I didn’t yet know that my car had been broken into, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, and didn’t answer. A few minutes later I received the voicemail transcript which, although slightly mangled, was clear enough:
“Hello, my name is police services Aid Wong w o g with the San Francisco Police Department. I’m calling looking for Andy Brandon Earthling. Anyway, I had some probably dropped off at our station today that looks like it may belong to you or someone, you know….”
This was Tuesday, the very first stop on our short vacation. I was standing in the DeYoung museum with my wife, eleven-year-old granddaughter, and her friend. “I need to return this call. Meet me in the lobby.”
It turns out that some random citizen had found our luggage somewhere, probably along the road in the general area of the Fillmore District. It had been riffled through and dumped. The person finding them apparently gathered things up, put them back in the bags as best they could, and dropped them anonymously at the police station. One of my calling cards was inside, and that’s how officer Wong got my number.
The bad guys had made off with a laptop and tablet, irreplaceable jewelry, and a variety of personal items. However, the good guys had returned two suitcases, three daypacks, and two handbags, all full of clothes and travel stuff, without which our vacation would have been completely over. So, before we even got to the car, or knew anything about the break-in, the score was tied: bad guys 1, good guys 1.
We got to the car and surveyed the damage. Two windows gone, glass all over the interior, all luggage gone. I called an Uber to take Anne and the girls to the hotel, while I stayed to deal with the car. With no passengers, I decided to drive it as it was to the police station to pick up our stuff, and then to the hotel parking garage.
By the time I got to the hotel, I learned that another citizen had found my personal cell phone by the side of the road, apparently tossed out by the bad guys. By coincidence, it rang, the finder answered, and the connection was made. Good guy #2 decided to have the phone delivered by Uber to the hotel, at his own expense. It was already there when I arrived. We never even got to learn the guy’s name.
In the morning, I started making calls. The first person I reached was Collin, at Don’s Auto Body. I don’t know what he was doing in the shop at 6:30, but he answered the phone. He made some recommendations for glass repair, and said that, if we couldn’t get it fixed to bring it to them and they’d fix it up for me so I could drive it home.
By 9:00 AM it was apparent that I was not getting glass. I took the car to Don’s, and walked the three blocks back to the hotel. When I picked the car up in the afternoon, Collin had vacuumed up all the glass, fitted cardboard and plastic to the broken windows, and gave me an extra roll of tape for the road. He refused to accept any payment, and only apologized for the conditions in his home city of San Francisco.
I want mention that our plans for the trip, including the DeYoung, dinner that night, card games in the hotel with fun snacks we’d brought for that purpose, the Exploratorium at 10:00AM, and back to Auburn in time for Amalie’s dance rehearsal – none of these things were canceled, or even impacted in any way. Yes, we lost some valuables, including several sentimental items. There was the fear and sense of violation that comes with such a theft. Driving home was slow and loud with the plastic in the windows, but we stayed dry and made it home just fine.
In case you lost count, the score at this point is: bad guys: 1, good guys: 3. I haven’t been to the Subaru dealer yet, but they’ve already checked on the availability of glass, and offered me a loaner car. The score keeps improving, the bad guys are not winning because they are consistently outnumbered by the good guys. I hope we all NEVER forget that.
Dec 23 2022
Good Guys vs Bad Guys
I didn’t yet know that my car had been broken into, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, and didn’t answer. A few minutes later I received the voicemail transcript which, although slightly mangled, was clear enough:
“Hello, my name is police services Aid Wong w o g with the San Francisco Police Department. I’m calling looking for Andy Brandon Earthling. Anyway, I had some probably dropped off at our station today that looks like it may belong to you or someone, you know….”
This was Tuesday, the very first stop on our short vacation. I was standing in the DeYoung museum with my wife, eleven-year-old granddaughter, and her friend. “I need to return this call. Meet me in the lobby.”
It turns out that some random citizen had found our luggage somewhere, probably along the road in the general area of the Fillmore District. It had been riffled through and dumped. The person finding them apparently gathered things up, put them back in the bags as best they could, and dropped them anonymously at the police station. One of my calling cards was inside, and that’s how officer Wong got my number.
The bad guys had made off with a laptop and tablet, irreplaceable jewelry, and a variety of personal items. However, the good guys had returned two suitcases, three daypacks, and two handbags, all full of clothes and travel stuff, without which our vacation would have been completely over. So, before we even got to the car, or knew anything about the break-in, the score was tied: bad guys 1, good guys 1.
We got to the car and surveyed the damage. Two windows gone, glass all over the interior, all luggage gone. I called an Uber to take Anne and the girls to the hotel, while I stayed to deal with the car. With no passengers, I decided to drive it as it was to the police station to pick up our stuff, and then to the hotel parking garage.
By the time I got to the hotel, I learned that another citizen had found my personal cell phone by the side of the road, apparently tossed out by the bad guys. By coincidence, it rang, the finder answered, and the connection was made. Good guy #2 decided to have the phone delivered by Uber to the hotel, at his own expense. It was already there when I arrived. We never even got to learn the guy’s name.
In the morning, I started making calls. The first person I reached was Collin, at Don’s Auto Body. I don’t know what he was doing in the shop at 6:30, but he answered the phone. He made some recommendations for glass repair, and said that, if we couldn’t get it fixed to bring it to them and they’d fix it up for me so I could drive it home.
By 9:00 AM it was apparent that I was not getting glass. I took the car to Don’s, and walked the three blocks back to the hotel. When I picked the car up in the afternoon, Collin had vacuumed up all the glass, fitted cardboard and plastic to the broken windows, and gave me an extra roll of tape for the road. He refused to accept any payment, and only apologized for the conditions in his home city of San Francisco.
I want mention that our plans for the trip, including the DeYoung, dinner that night, card games in the hotel with fun snacks we’d brought for that purpose, the Exploratorium at 10:00AM, and back to Auburn in time for Amalie’s dance rehearsal – none of these things were canceled, or even impacted in any way. Yes, we lost some valuables, including several sentimental items. There was the fear and sense of violation that comes with such a theft. Driving home was slow and loud with the plastic in the windows, but we stayed dry and made it home just fine.
In case you lost count, the score at this point is: bad guys: 1, good guys: 3. I haven’t been to the Subaru dealer yet, but they’ve already checked on the availability of glass, and offered me a loaner car. The score keeps improving, the bad guys are not winning because they are consistently outnumbered by the good guys. I hope we all NEVER forget that.
By andybrannan • Essays 0