Canyonville Chronology - March 26, 1999 - April 4, 1999
3-26-99-Fri The tow truck to take the big trucks will be here soon. I go to get their keys. Someone has broken into my house and taken the key board from the kitchen. It's sat there, out of sight in plain view for six years, holding the spare keys to every rig we've ever had. Now it's gone. I have no idea when they broke in.
Compared to the other things, this is very minor. But I get mad. Livid. I call the police. I say that I know they are not going to do anything, but they are going to take a report. I am not very polite.
Suddenly we see a tow truck driving up and down the street. I warn my neighbor. We watch. We can hear him thinking, “Well, that crazy old woman is standing out there, we'd better leave.”
The judge told my neighbor that the city can't send out a tow truck. If they do, he is to call the police. Right. Call the police. The tow trucks will be in Portland before the police arrive - to take a report.
I go inside to wait for the police to call to take a telephone report on the breaking and entering and burglary.
A friend knocks on the door. A deputy sheriff is with her. “Hey, he's here about them breaking in,” she says. I am amazed. I continue to be amazed as the young officer not only takes a report, but talks with me about the other thefts, vandalism and terrorism. His attitude is totally different. He has completed several forensic courses, and tells me what evidence can be obtained from crime scenes. This is not TV, with hair and fiber convicting the dastardly villain, but it's a far cry from Mayberry PD.
I show him where someone has ripped my back license plate half off. He examines it, but the likelihood of matching tool marks is remote. He tells me that I need to get a new plate because the section showing the date is destroyed, but he's certainly not going to hassle me - just get one as soon as I can afford it, and if that takes four weeks, that's OK with him.
As he leaves, I lean against the door way, amazed and stunned. Suddenly I stand upright and yelp, “That was a police officer!! You idiot” I say to myself, “Suppose he'd been here to arrest me!” Victoria looks up at me. “I sincerely doubt that they would ask that particular young officer to arrest you.” She doesn't have to say anything else.
The tow truck takes my trucks to safety. The Challengers are safe for a little while. My body puts in a demand for rest. Finally, I can listen. For days I sleep off and on, waking only to feed every one, visit my therapist, feed the pets, and check to be certain the Challengers are still safe.
4-1-99 I call the judge. She will not give me any thing in writing saying she is not going to sentence me. She will just send me a copy of her notes saying the case is closed. Right. Closed. Except for sentencing.
3-27-99 I run errands that have been put off for too long.
3-28-99 I take no medication. Finally, the pain subsides enough so I can sleep. For several days I will sleep off and on, slowly recovering.
4-2-99 Pick up letter from court which says case closed. Right. The ordinance says the fine and jail time may be suspended. I am still in limbo. A friend says it's very suspicious that she will not say she is not going to sentence me, or that the sentence is suspended. A case can be closed except for sentencing.
Join for 8.99 a month another legal club. Is the latest rip off?
4-4-99 “Shut up or go to jail. Understand.” This phone is a bit more coherent, and, a bit more frightening.