A few days ago, I went out to my car only to find my car stolen! I was not a happy camper, nor was this the end of my worries!
My first instinct was not to call the police, but my landlord! Why? Simple. I DON'T TRUST HER AS FAR AS I CAN THROW HER WITH MY PINKY FINGER WHILE IN A COMA UNDERGOING A TRIPLE BYPASS!! And besides, we are supposed to have security here on the premises, so why not call and ask the landlord? Who knows? Maybe our security guy was out with the rest of the cops at Dunkin Donuts while my car was stolen.... I don't know, but I had planned to find out!
She (the landlord) had no clue. The security guy could not be found. I suggested he was out sleeping off a donut-and-coffee-induced hangover. The landlady was not amused, but, then again, neither was I. It was my car that was stolen! Her Cadillac was still parked outside! After that meeting proved to be fruitless, I called the police.
Nightmare #2 begins here.
The policeman who responded took too long (by my estimate) to get here. My first instinct told me there was a traffic jam in front of the donut shop. But as I looking up the number for Dunkin Donuts, a policeman pulled up. (He looked a bit thin, though. He had obviously been late getting to the donut shop and sent ahead to answer my call.) I quickly told him about how and when I discovered my car was missing, when the last time was that I knew my car was there, and I even showed him where I parked my car and the glass fragments around the spot my car was parked. I gave him a description of my car: year, make, model, tag number, even the VIN number! I had it all! Then he asked me to show proof of ownership. I couldn't show a title because I'm waiting for a replacement title to be mailed to me from my state capital. That's when I was told that he couldn't file a report on my stolen vehicle.
It was then that I found out how far a little self control could go. Every muscle within my body was screaming to lunge for his throat when he told me he couldn't file a report. I showed him the broken glass again. He even told me he was certain that my car was stolen. My problem to him was that I didn't have a title on hand yet. Furious, hurt, dejected, and ready to scream, I thanked him for his time and left him to look for my car on my own, on foot.
Since I used to drive a taxi cab here in this city, I knew where all the 'hot spots' were and I started my search there first. I remember my wife saying, "What if they have guns? Scourge2, you don't have a gun!" I honestly didn't care about that. All that mattered was getting my car back.
And I did!
Somebody upstairs must have known something that I wasn't willing or able to see in my rage: the fact that I was going to need help. Soon after I left, I ran upon an old friend of mine. I jumped in his car, told him what happened, and together we went to find my car. My adrenaline and rage were both high, and my friend knew it. He even made me promise to call the police if we found the car, instead of me trying to play hero. I think his exact words were 'Do it for my safety, then!'
About an hour after the officer left my house, my friend and I were riding through different 'high crime' areas and I found my car in one of them. Someone abandoned it in front of a low income housing area, one rear window smashed in, the steering column punched out beyond repair. I was as angry as I was happy to find it. I did remember to call the police, though, and this time a report was filed. (The coffee and donuts had obviously put them in a more cooperative mood.) I was still furious, though. I called the police earlier expecting them to perfom a duty, but in the end, it was me who ended up doing the job they refused to do!! Now that I had accomplished the job (with a little help from a friend), the police wanted to do a follow-up report. "Follow up?", I said. "For what? I did the work and found the car myself, and it only took me about an hour to do it!"
Although the story has me finding my car, the ending is not exactly happy, for now I'm without reliable transportation to work and I have to arrange an alternative means to get my oldest child to school. All because some idiot (or idiots) wanted to go for a joyride, or maybe snatch a car to sell dope from or to take to a 'chop shop'. I don't know why they took it, and I probably never will because the police have no leads (which is no big surprise to me). If some miracle does happen, and the police do catch up with the person(s) who stole my car, jail time wouldn't be good enough. I say they ought to be made to carry us around like the old rickshaw drivers do in China! That would be a start....
A friend of mine, Robyn, sent me a link to an organization that helps to locate missing children. This is one of my very few weak soft spots (and I don't have many, trust me), but when I saw the link, it really got to me. I have kids of my own, and, regardless as to how much they yell, scream, and cry, if anything ever happened to them, I would move Heaven and Earth to find and help them.
I checked out their organization even further and decided that I wanted to do my part to help. I joined their mailing list, and it gave me the idea that lead me to do the following.
If a disclaimer is needed, then here it is:
I decided to provide links to the charts that this organization provides. They are done in alphabetical order by state. Just click onto the state of interest below and you will be sent to a chart that displays missing children from that state. If you have seen any of these children or can provide any information about the whereabouts of these children, please call the numbers provided. This effort was totally my idea, done by my own free will, without anyone's urging or permission, and I take full responsibility, right or wrong, for it.
I believe in what this organization is doing and I applaud their efforts in locating missing children. If this helps in any way to locate a missing child, I'll be satisfied with that.