NotTheRock Musings

No, I don't mean modern-day criminals of the 21st century -- I mean criminals born in the 21st century. Like in 2000.

Last night, I made it home at about 8:20 PM and noticed as I pulled up that two packages that had been delivered were somewhat ripped open on my front walk. This can't be good, I figured. I then noticed some large rocks in my driveway. Rocks I hadn't left there. Then, as I approached the house, I found a couple of bricks on my front walk and yard. In my mailbox, instead of mail, there was a brick. Either the bricks were attacking or I had been targeted and the United American Bricklayers Association was trying to send me a message.

Somewhere around this time I decided to go back and investigate the garage some more. Sure enough, the side window, which was never what you'd call "quality," was smashed thoroughly and all the lattice was destroyed. I found lots of glass and four rocks in my garage but nothing appeared to be disturbed (except for the window). I also noticed that the flower box below the window was ripped down.

I went into the house and decided I should probably call the police and report this, just so it's on the record. I didn't really care that much about the garage window since it was shitty to begin with but I did care that my mail was apparently gone, which is a federal offense.

As I waited for the police, I went outside again and only now did it begin to occur to me that I should start inspecting the property more throughly. Armed with my maglite, I went around the side of the house and saw that the side basement window over my washer/dryer was destroyed. I continued around the back and came upon my back door. Now, my back door has never been the best. When I bought the house, it was simply a steel and glass storm door that was "locked" by two screwdrivers blocking the frame like a latch. Beyond that door is a little room with my oil tank and my lawn mower. Then there's another door that I keep hooked from the inside. On the other side of that door is my basement.

Well, the back door (the steel and glass storm door) was destroyed. Every piece of glass was smashed out, it was ajar and the next door was also open. A porcelain sink that I was keeping in the basement for potential future use was also smashed to shit with rocks that were still there. I found several more rocks in the basement that had come sailing through the side window, bouncing off my dryer and nicking it up. My original bass guitar had been taken from the middle of the basement and dragged to the back door area. My mail was ripped open, stepped on and left scattered near the back door as well.

The first local officer arrived and I told him what I'd discovered. He was pretty casual until he came around back and saw the state of the back door. When I confirmed I hadn't touched anything and that it was this way when I got home, he got a lot more attentive and immediately asked if anyone was inside the house (i.e., wife, kids, etc.). I confirmed it was just me who lived there and he immediately called for another unit and a detective.

About this time, down on the street that is behind my house (through some small woody area and a steep incline) two young teens were bounding up the street on foot. The officer and I shut off our flashlights and watched them for a minute. As they went into a driveway, he asked if there was an easy way down and said he was going to go check them out. He bolted down there and the kids seemed to disappear. He searched the woods behind the houses on the other side of that street for a while and the other cruiser arrived and went up and down the street with the spotlight lighting up the yards. It was entertaining from my backyard and I was hoping to see these punks busted. I was also hoping I could punch one in the head but that's neither here nor there.

After while, both officers came back to my house, empty-handed. They said they wanted to "clear" my house, standard procedure, I guess, when a perpetrator could conceivably be hiding in my closet. I told them I'd already been in there but they insisted I stay outside and they drew their pistols and went in and thoroughly searched my house.

The detective showed and we walked him through the scene, too, and he said not to touch anything. He took pictures and was going to dust things for prints. He also called for a K-9 unit and, sure enough, here comes a Sherriff's office SUV with a German Shepherd, eager to sniff things out. They went around the neighborhood for a while after getting a scent off my back door area. After a while of the cops huddling two doors down at a neighbor's house, the detective came up and gave me the news.

"Well, we figured out who did it."

"Really?" I asked. "Who?"

"Your two neighbor's have sons... they're both six years old."

The detective looked at me in a odd way. He knew I was pissed at my place being violated like this and he looked pained to have to explain the sadness that it was two six-year-olds who did this.

Another officer approached and said the parents wanted me to come down, if I was willing, and have the kids look me in the eye and apologize to me directly. I decided that this was probably a good idea. The officers also said I didn't have to say much if I didn't want to, since it was their job (and the parents) to scare the shit out of them, which they were all in the process of doing.

At the house, I stood in front of them, with two police officers next to me, and let them say they were sorry. I confirmed they wouldn't do it again and their mothers' prompted them to tell me that they were going to "help me" this Spring/Summer with yardwork, cleanup, etc. I said that sounded good and also decided to make them feel even guiltier by telling them my girlfriend was on the phone crying because she was worried someone had come to hurt me. This definitely made their little heads sink lower and, truth be told, I said this also for the impact on the moms sitting nearby.

When I had entered the room where the kids were being detained, I saw both moms and, as I've said to a few people, man did that bring back flashbacks. Seeing that Angry Mom look... where it's kind of like a cross between mortified and....murderous. Those kids were in deep trouble and the moms were just horrified that their six-year-olds could possibly do such a thing.

The next step was to bring the two fathers up to see the extent of the damage so that they fully understood this wasn't just a broken pane of glass in my garage. They came up and, while they had been apologetic to that point, they were even more embarrassed and saddened when they saw that the kids had actually entered my house. One father said when he went back home to get his tools to help board the windows up, he was almost in tears telling his wife how much damage they had done and seeing him that way pissed his wife off even more and she went back into the room to have another go at the kid again. He said at that point he knew he wasn't needed there for discipline and so he came back over to do the cleanup. I know what he meant. We were all afraid of dads growing up, but when mom truly got angry, you knew you were in deep doo-doo.

They cleaned up all the glass and other debris and we recovered my mail as far as I can tell. The handier of the two guys is actually fixing the windows and door today and, really, that's all that was truly damaged (that and an old, useless sink) so I don't expect much in the way of problems with them making things right. If I do, though, I've got a police report coming to me soon. And on it, there will be the suspects names and vitals. I even heard the officer taking things down from Dad #2:

"And what's his birthdate?"

"Five-nine-two thousand."

Two thousand. 2000! And he's already on a police report. I made sure to point out that they're kind of lucky this wasn't occurring in 5-10 years, because then they'd be old enough that I wouldn't feel the least bit bad about them seeing what the inside of a cell looks like or spending a few nights in juvenile hall.

Criminal mischief, breaking and entering, vandalism.... nice start, kids.

Labels: neighbors, police, six year old criminals, suburbia