Once again, I've been gone. I wrote a nice little post about my son and his new bride last Summer. Then, just as I thought I may get back to something that represents normal....This happens.
It was a warm Saturday morning, the weekend of the annual peach festival in my little town of 2000. There are food vendors, games, and even a parade where the peach queen reigns over the festivities.
I had opted to miss the parade and had made plans with my daughter to bring my grandson out later, Sunday afternoon for games and fun.
Our little town swells by thousands with the arrival of a festival. Tourists and visitors from all over come to sample our sweet, tree ripened peaches or the latest wine from our award winning vinters.
We locals like to make an appearence but very briefly, due to uncommon traffic snarels and poor parking.
On this day, I was going through my usual morning routine. I was playing ball with the dogs, changing their water, oh and I had forgotten to get the trash cans from the street the day before. I had a letter my mom needed me to mail, so I headed out the back door and made my way to the front yard.
Apparently I have a bad habit of looking down and watching my feet (the dogs sometimes get tangled up in mine). By looking down and not watching what is in front of me, I missed what was going on in my very own front yard.
Just as I rounded the last corner of the garage and was heading towards the mail box, I looked up.
There, at the corner of my property and my neighbor's barn, I am looking down the barrel of two guns. (It felt more like 10). Suddenly I hear many voices at once, all yelling at me. Asking me if I live here and if that's my van.
What van? Oh, well once I get my bearings and look around, I see a mini-van (still running) parked at the end of my driveway.
I tell the officers I do live here and no that's not my van, and they proceeded to yell for me to come towards them. I have three dogs running loose, no leashes and I'm trying desperatly to get out of the line of sight for those guns. But I obeyed and walked toward them and moved by the barn. One of my dogs is trying to bite one of the officers for yelling at me and was only trying to protect me.
During all of this, I find out the bank had been robbed and he had left the get-away van in my yard. I began to shake.
So.... We moved behind the officers and more police showed up. They told me to move behind them and then more showed up. And finally a DOW officer with a big rifle yelled for me to get out of here...
Ok, but where? I have three dogs, my neighbors are all gone and I'm sitting on the side of the road trying to control my freaked out dogs. Two of the dogs decided to pick a fight with two huge dogs in their own yard, and I'm hoping this guy doesn't sneak around the corner and take me hostage. I think to myself, "I sure am glad I got dressed this morning before I took the dogs out."
There were literally ten different officers from at least four different agencies. State Patrol, Sheriff, City cops, and DOW.
While I'm sitting waiting for someone (anyone) that I know to drive by so they can at least help me with my dogs, I realize that more than likely those friends of mine are busy with the festival. (I sure wish I had volunteered now).
After what seemed like an eternity, a state patrolman comes over and asks if they can search my house and want to make sure I was alone in the house. I reassured them I was, and had to wait again. .....
Once they had searched my house, another officer came over and got me. They asked me to go into my house and lock everything up and leave.
As I was escorted by the get-away-van I commented to the officer standing there, "Who uses a mini-van as a get-away car?" I didn't even get a smile. I was trying to lighten things up.
When I went upstairs I was greeted by a huge mess in my son's room. The room is already sort of messy, then when they were looking for the perp (I've always wanted to say that) they broke a desk, overturned my son's recliner and generally made a big mess messyier. (Is that a word)
Well, I was asked to leave so they could process the crime scene and continue to look through my out buildings. Two REALLY messy sheds and a big field where my dogs are kept.
By the time I was allowed to come back, I had a huge crime scene tape in my front yard, a sheriff's deputy posted in front of my house and then eventually a giant CSI truck parked right in my driveway.
Long story I know, but as it turns out, the robber didn't even get any money. I will post about how that happened later.
What I came away with in all of this is to never forget to look up once in a while, and don't forget to get dressed before you go outside. :-)