POLICE PRESENCE: BLESSINGS FOR OFFICER FRIENDLY

A police presence in some neighborhoods means one thing:

Go inside, lock the door, and stay away from windows.

But it’s my neighborhood.

So I checked in with the police on site.

“Should I go inside and lock the door and stay out of the windows?”

“We’re here to monitor traffic.”

“So it’s not about my barking dog?”

“No.”

Traffic? On a cul-de-sac?

I spoke to the officer following the neighbor who wants everyone to know they’ve got the inside line on information. Have you got the ‘Man In Charge’ in the neighborhood?

If you do, then you’ve heard the talk: They’ve been everywhere, done everything, and they are the shining light in the dark wilderness of suburban living near Portland.

I say ‘near Portland’ because my zip code comes up Portland. I waited my turn in line at the police cruiser.

Is the police presence across the street from my house the same as Portland police?

No one would say that inner-city police work is the same as this.

But when the party comes to the neighborhood, traffic follows.

Crime Dog On The Lookout With Police Presence

This is my back-up, my partner in solving problems big and small.

Which isn’t to say my fluffy is a problem big, or small. But she’s still big with a big bark.

We both reported in to the officer on duty.

“That’s my house right there. I lived here for the first SWAT TEAM assembly, and the second.

“The part that bothers me is it’s my house in the photos of drug activity.”

Which is the reason for the police presence. I live near a house classified by law enforcement as ‘Meth friendly.’

The second SWAT team assembly ended with one man doing time.

Then he got out, moved back, and traffic on the street picked up.

If it’s not the abandoned looking car parked down the street with a slouching driver waiting for the sign, it’s the bicyclist with the backpack making deliveries.

Or it’s foot traffic walking up, turning onto the private street, and coming out ten minutes later.

I’ve seen it a few times because my workspace faces the street.

“The hard part is the neighbors between my house and the monitored house. They’re afraid to let their kids play in the driveway. They’ve had people passed out in the street in front of their house. Now they’re so frightened they are moving after less than a year.”

So I live in a drug infested ‘hood? And I’m in the line of fire between police and meth house?

2

I lived in an infested ‘hood in Philadelphia’s Center City where drunks crashed under my second floor bedroom window.

More than once they woke up with a song in their heart. Which woke me up.

The small building I lived in had a plumbing shop on the ground floor, my apartment on the second, and another on the third.

It sat in the middle of a paved city parking lot, like it was the last building not torn down.

Without telling them anything, I brought them food a few times.

“What kind of booze do you drink?”

“Whiskey,” they said.

“How about hard drugs?”

“Whisky does enough.”

3

One of my Brooklyn places was more down and dirty.

I met the local dealer, a young white man working his territory to get back in the good graces of his ‘Family.’

He broke it down for me.

“I don’t want to hear about you buying coke or heroin from anyone but me, understood? I’m the guy arounds here and the sooner you know it, the better.

“I’ve got what you want, and if I don’t I’ll get it. I also specialize in Mercedes Benz hubcaps. If you need a set, see me first.”

So he had three products I didn’t need.

But, the guy was all business. I asked him about his Family. He said his father was a Captain, and that he was on the fast track until he made one too many mistakes and got demoted to his current job.

He had hopes of making it back into the good graces of people who mattered.

I like guys with ambition.

The Big Investigation In My Driveway

I live in Oregon, so I’m a nature boy if you listen to outsiders.

However a real nature boy could explain how a snail made it to the side of my car.

Did it jump? Not likely. Fly in on a breeze? Not with that house on its back.

And it kept going, headed for the door handle.

This snail is obviously a car jacker. It shows all the signs.

It wants my car, and wants it bad.

Should I call the police and ask what to do?

Gangster snail?

I took matters into my own hands. From the side of my car to the fence, where it fell off, I redirected this guy to a more productive life with a bright future.

Unless my wife catches him eating her flowers.

Then it’s lights out.

The police presence at the curb feels like a lights out moment for traffic and traffickers down the street beside my house.

When I took my assistant over to talk, the officer got out and petted her.

I’ve seen the same police news you’ve seen and come away disappointed.

Then there’s the story of police being called because kids were playing basketball too loudly. The police officer shows up and joins the game.

It’s heart warming, and so was seeing the officer on the street interact with my guard dog.

Here’s to hoping this all works out.