View from the cop: Crime & punishment
View from the Cop is moving to a new site on Wordpress. Blogger Steve Rose of the Sandy Springs Police Department gives his take on crime, offers safety tips and give his weekly picks from the police blotter. Follow Steve Rose to the new blog site.
AJC.com > Metro > View from the cop > Archives > 2008 > January
January 2008
A smashing preparedness plan
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
As if the world wasn’t already going nuts with Brittney Spear’s on her “I’m Still Reasonably Nuts” tour and all, now we’re on the verge of being hit by the U.S. spy intelligence satellite that lost power.
One of the things that you don’t want to see in a single paragraph would be “spy,” “intelligence satellite,” “lost power,” and “we don’t know where it’s going to come down at.”
I read an online Reuters article. It was very interesting and, as a bonus, they provided a picture of Earth so that we would have a picture of what the satellite was going to hit. I do believe that it’s a pretty small satellite so I’m sure most of us will be okay but if you’re a betting human, you might want to check the Vegas odds.
Science Researcher Bob Feldman was quoted as saying: “Although the re-entry data does not allow us the luxury of prior knowledge of its exact path, we can predict with reasonable accuracy that it will hit a trailer park.”
Read it and weep my mobile friends. You and I both know that some poor trailer is in for a whupp’in’ courtesy of the intelligence community. Many meteorologists agree on two things: 8 out of 10 contributing factors causing tornados have something to do with mobile homes; although meteorologists have very little to do with meteors, it’s better than being called “Rain Men.”
Right now the odds are 487,204 to 1 the satellite will hit earth intact enough to create a “small and insignificant impact” on the American public—similar to Dennis Kucinich’s presidential campaign.
How do we prepare for the impact? First, we know it will be sometime in February or March, along the same scheduling timeframe as a service call from your cable company. Realistically however, it is never too early to prepare. Several metro areas are knee-deep in preparation for the event. Up near Ball Ground, plans are already in motion. The local Emergency Management Authority will meet daily at the new EMA headquarters located in the banquet room at Two-Brothers BBQ.
Starting in mid-February, active EMA patrols will commence daily on FEMA-donated Vespas. (We kind of got in late on the EMA vehicle grant.) Area residents are urged to report any unusual airborne activity that appears to be threatening or suspicious. As a result, Spanky Tarte’s Moonlight Zeppelin Rides, located in metro Nelson, Georgia will close after-dark rides until April. As an added precaution, Uncle Dewey will have the antique fire truck stationed in downtown Ball Ground, next to the Marble Hall of Fame, just in case. Although the truck’s water tanks are rusted and won’t hold water anymore, several local beer distributors have donated over 400 cases of Zima Beer that was apparently just collecting dust anyway.
What if all of this doesn’t work?
Plan B
Bruce Willis.
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Crime & Punishment
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Some incidents reported to the Sandy Springs Police over the past week:
A woman robbed the Wachovia Bank in the 8700 block of Roswell Road. Afterwards, she ran behind the bank where the money exploded and turned everyone red. She ran to the Publix, changed clothes, and then ran over to Hope Road and Dunwoody Place where she tried to catch a bus at the bus stop. Didn’t work out for her. Twenty-two-year old Chanel Monae Gaskin is in Fulton County Jail charged with the robbery of the bank and another Wachovia in DeKalb County earlier this month. Look, if your getaway plan includes a bus stop, you probably need to go back to the drawing board.
Signs you need a new roommate
Gregory called and reported a theft and the following story: He allowed a guy named Craig to move into his apartment. They verbally agreed that Craig would help with the rent. After a short time, the place was a mess and Gregory suspected Craig was on a booze and/or drug bender. Shortly thereafter, he noticed $320 missing from his account and two cameras were missing. Craig’s girlfriend, now in transition to ex-girlfriend, called and said Craig had taken his bank card. She offered to help set him up for arrest. Gregory said he doesn’t know if he wants to prosecute. He wants Craig back in rehab.
Clean out your car so you don’t get cleaned out
Someone stole the victim’s car-charger for her phone while the car was parked for servicing. (When you leave a car for service, take everything you like out of it, especially if it’s in for the night.)
Don’t forget to stash your GPS units, remembering they are VERY popular with our crooked friends right now.
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Some advice for bank robbers
'Financial planning' has a new meaning when robbing a bank
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
There should be a law on the books called “Failure to Think It Through.” Recently we had a bank robbery where, as a result of not thinking the plan through, the robber’s crime spree was short lived. Why? No plan.
Let’s say you are the robber - meaning you are the central figure of the crime. Why wouldn’t you have a solid plan?
Most bank robbers think the hard part is the actual robbing the bank. I disagree. The robbing of the bank is actually the easy part. Bank policies are designed to minimize risk to the employees and customers so as a result, getting the money is as simple as the demand or the traditional note of demand. There simply is no need to be dramatic. For instance why climb up on the bank counter and run up and down waving a shotgun all over the place when a simple demand for money, all the while standing nice and still on the floor, will do just fine? Besides, if you don’t properly stretch ahead of time, you could be looking at a hamstring issue.
The fact is that Hollywood has no place here. There’s no need to grandstand. No need for that whole Symbionese Liberation Army (S.L.A.) thing, you know, with the trench coats and the berets. (Especially the berets—they are soooo out.)
Also, we’re in the south. Try to show some manners.
Here’s another important point. Most of us don’t have good handwriting. We tend to scribble. A number of bank robbers could have gotten more money from the bank if the teller could have read the note! If you’re going to write a robbery note, think about your penmanship. It’s not like you have to write it there, at the scene. Write it when you’re relaxed and in your happy place. For example, let’s say you, the robber, intended to rob the bank using this message: “This is a robbery. Don’t set off the alarm and don’t put a dye pack in the bag. Give me all of your cash in the drawer and act normal.”
Because your handwriting was so bad, here’s what the teller thought she was reading: “This is Robert. Don’t be alarmed. I could die for that bag! Did you pay cash for those drawers at Normans?”
She’s just going to look at you like you’ve got three heads. You’re going to stand there longer and don’t forget, you’re on camera.
This next area is where most robbers lose focus.
Let’s say again that you are the robber and you’ve gotten this far. With good handwriting and a little posture, you should be sailing right along. Now it’s time for the money to be transferred to you. Don’t waste your time and the teller’s time insisting the teller NOT include dye pack. It doesn’t matter how much you don’t want it, you’re gonna get it. It’s a package deal—like when your parents made you take your little brother with you every time you went out to hang around the neighborhood with your buddies. The only difference is your little brother didn’t usually explode.
Whoever invented dye packs had a sense of humor. Nothing says funny like an explosion that has just enough power to blow your pants off and paint the rest of you at the same time! How great is that? Not only that but you stay that way for a while because that stuff isn’t coming off any time soon! The money is no good because it’s orange or blue and now you’re walking around looking like Ziggy Stardust—with blown up pants. In an urban location where the post-crime blending is so crucial, it’s going to be hard for you to blend in at the bus stop when you face is orange and your pants are half blown off. Unless the circus is in town, you’ll stand out. Now it doesn’t sound so appealing does it?
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Snowed under by reporting of a non-event
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Once again we came close, but managed to survive the dreaded annual snow and ice non-event. Mass-media coverage of the snow was excellent. From what I can tell, the reporters extensively covered this almost-event with such depth that I learned several new things including what is known in the business as “The Involuntary Endless Reporting Cycle” or IERC, Pronounced “IRK” or the British version “IRKE” or the French “LE-IRK-MOU” which also translates to “I surrender, may I borrow your deodorant?”
It was a time for all meteorologists to rise, roll their sleeves up, take off that coat, undo the tie, and show us just how and when that snowflake will hit earth. Five helicopters (and one cable public access blimp) circled the sky, covering the falling flakes. On the ground, the ground reporters, the grunts of the local news force, took to the streets. Along with their camera-persons, armed with macro lenses and Chapstick, they covering the sand pits of the D.O.T. (“We are ready to go. We’ve been up all night moving the sand around. See that pile of sand? An hour ago it was all the way over there.”)
Some of you say it is overkill. Hah! I metaphorically laugh in your faces!!
Seriously, here’s the way it is: At some point, some ten minutes or so after the first broadcast, they’ve pretty much covered it all. We know a lot going into the broadcast. We know that if everyone hits the roads, traffic will be more screwed up than normal due to the exodus to the grocery stores. We also know that most humans will die within 48 hours without bread and milk. We know that once there is the slightest hint of snow and / or the “I” word, the schools will close. Perhaps the 12-month employees will be required to show up, as if they’re expendable, something that recently prompted an increase of requests to be an 11-month employee.
This year, the almost-event has been divided into three phases. Starting with last week’s prediction of doom, it is followed by Saturday night’s second coming of doom and now the 40-percent chance of doom for tonight and tomorrow. This is known as “The Perfect Doom” of reporting. The truth is, as much as they want to, the reporters cannot stop reporting on the non-event.
It’s like a giant game of Chicken. They can’t deviate from the story if there’s the slightest chance the other reporters might find something beyond what has already been reported so the depth of the reporting can be, and sometimes has to be endless. It’s not their fault! They don’t make the news, they just sail it our way, like a giant Frisbee or maybe a cow chip! Whatever.
Head for home or hang out at the local trendy coffee place, sipping something like a Latte Grande Mocha Excelso Supremo, brewed in an Espresso Restretto style, made with a single coffee bean from the deep jungle region of Gambia—on a Tuesday. Kick back people. Film at eleven. Be there!
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Crime & punishment
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
These are some, but not all, incidents reported to the Sandy Springs Police over the past week.
Burglary
Someone forced the victim’s door open in the 600 block of Spring Creek Lane and took a laptop computer and a lockbox containing personal documents. (Lockboxes aren’t any good if the perps can pick them up and walk away with them.)
Someone forced entry into a café located in an office building in the 6500 block of New Northside Drive. The door was forced and over $2000 in cash was taken as well as cigarettes, candy, and soft drinks. (Make that night drop.)
Someone shattered a glass door with a rock and entered into a salon in the 5900 block of Roswell Road. A total of five bucks in change was missing. (That sounds a lot better than $2000 missing. Make those deposits!)
Someone forced entry into a restaurant in the 5800 block of Roswell Road after closing time and ransacked it. They took chickens from the freezer and threw them out into the parking lot and did a considerable amount of damage to the large television on the wall, the cash register, bottled beer, and a number of other items. Nothing was taken. It looks like the intent was either revenge or intimidation.
Thefts
(When an incident report starts like this one, you know it has a bad ending) A woman allowed her ex-boyfriend to take a shower in her apartment bathroom. The ex asked the victim about a diamond ring he saw in her jewelry box. He asked if he could borrow it. She said no. Later, she noticed that it was gone. She asked him if he had it. He said he sold it for $900. Okay, when the ex asks about anything, the car, the jewelry, your i-Pod, pets, anything, that’s a big CLUE to hide them well.
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Skiddish about driving in ice and snow?
A few clues that you're losing your grip
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Winter months are especially hazardous to Atlanta area drivers. There are only a few weeks each year that present the opportunity for dangerous driving conditions in the form of ice and snow. It is important to recognize when road conditions become hazardous so that you can take immediate action. Here are some examples of changes that may indicate a decline in weather and road conditions.
While in the car, look for the following clues that icy road conditions are too severe to drive:
You’re driving backwards when you had no intention of doing so.
You’re driving driving sideways when you had no intention of doing so.
Both No. 1 and 2.
You can see the car next to you, then the car across the street, then the car next to you, then the car across the street. This should be recognized as a sign that you are spinning out of control.
You have an ache in the pit of your stomach that the bumping sensation your car is displaying may have something to do with pedestrians.
You can see the pedestrians next to you, then the pedestrians across the street from you, then the pedestrians next to you, minus one, then the pedestrians across the street from you. This is an indication that you are spinning out of control while hitting pedestrians at the same time.
In your mind, you clearly want to stop for the red light but it just isn’t happening.
You can see the guy next to you smile and wave goodbye as you pass each other going backwards.
Again with the pedestrian next to you and then across the street. It seems there are not many left.
And finally….Please be careful and make sure the rear-view mirror is clean.
When police die, where are activists?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Today is one those days that I could do without. I got in the car and as I headed down the road, I heard the radio report where two police officers in DeKalb County were shot and killed this morning. I guess it’s a sharp reminder that no one is immune from all this crazy violence.
My first thought was how ironic it is that it happened in DeKalb County. I would guess those people who demanded all the investigations of police-related shootings and the police have a common bond now.
I wonder if they’ll show up, with their agenda-ridden activism, to support the families and fellow officers of these two officers.
I doubt it.
A lesson of sorts about ice and snow
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Here we go again. Sleet and ice expected. This is the only time that Atlanta’s weather goes north. I hate the one or two times a year it happens but when it does, you would think the end of the world was near. I have written about this before but it warrants a second look. The bottom line is we don’t have enough really bad weather to justify a bunch of money for snow plows and other snow stuff. What we do is suck it up for a week each year. Sometimes it happens twice meaning, more than anything else, the insurance adjusters will be occupying most of the bar seats during happy hour. We hate ice and rain. We rarely see snow and we really don’t know how to act in it.
The last big snow that hit put 4-5 inches on the ground. We lived way up in Cherokee County in a neighborhood of first-house owners. In those days we were all pretty close and quick to make a social occasion of anything. So snow and icy roads was a perfect opportunity for us to gather outside and do something stupid.
None of us had a sled so we appropriated someone’s wheelbarrow, took the wheels and skids off of it and presto, we had a sled.
We lived on a sharply inclined street that went straight up where it dead-ended at my house. As you went down it, the street leveled out just before crossing an intersecting street. We weren’t quite sure how far the wheelbarrow would go once it got up to top speed so, to ensure safety, we had Darryl get on his riding mower and guard the intersection in case the wheelbarrow made it past that point. He could then tow the wheelbarrow back up the hill on the mower.
Skeet, who was a little wiry guy, started in on the hot buttered rum a bit earlier than anyone else and immediately volunteered to take the first ride. If successful, he would cover about a hundred yards and then cross the road while Darryl held traffic. All bets were placed on who could travel the farthest. Each of us would take a run and the winner took all.
On the first run, Skeet tried a bobsled move by pushing the wheelbarrow for a few yards and then jumping in. It was legal since we had not yet forbid it. The wheelbarrow however, was moving faster than Skeet so when he jumped, he missed it completely, sending it down the hill unoccupied. It did however give us a gauge on the distance so we went ahead and placed our bets. While Darryl drug it back up behind his riding lawn mower.
On the second try, Skeet got about 20 yards down the hill before he hit a mailbox that ejected him onto the roadway while the wheelbarrow ricocheted in the other direction and through my neighbor’s front yard, killing a small plastic gnome. We drug the wheelbarrow back up the hill and then discussed trajectory strategy at our new impromptu bar that we built out of cinder blocks and some 2 x 4’s. Behind the bar was a nice warm bonfire (which became the final resting place for the gnome.)
During the short break in the action, Darryl apparently became bored so he walked back up onto his driveway and started working on his unfinished weekend project involving a 50-gallon drum and a welding torch. In the meantime, my neighbor and his girlfriend, a girl whose name escapes me but her fondness for Quaaludes does not, walked up the hill, which took some time due to her frequent falls.
In an effort to make the run more efficient, Skeet proposed that we position the wheelbarrow directly in the center of the street, noting that on the first run it hit the groove along the curb, which caused it to hit the mailbox. It seemed like a good plan so we toasted the plan and the wheelbarrow was placed in the center of the road. All bets were taken and we toasted the gnome, which was now on fire and producing black smoke, and prepared for action.
It is amazing to me how timing can be so perfect and so imperfect at the same time. In my opinion, at that very moment, all of the planets of the universe aligned just enough to cause the following sequence of events:
My neighbor’s girlfriend, stoned and bruised from falling down half a dozen times, apparently mistook the wheelbarrow for a chair. At that very same moment, Darryl applied his welding torch to the upside-down fifty-gallon drum. Just when Skeet turned around and said “Dude, is that your girlfriend?” I turned around and saw the wheelbarrow, containing my neighbor’s girlfriend, begin its descent down the center of the street, moving much faster than anticipated. That immediate thought was shattered by the loudest explosion that I had ever heard in my life.
As I looked up I remember seeing the 50-gallon drum flying through the air, leaving a trail of bluish-gray smoke stretching from the driveway to it’s current position, some fifty feet in the air. Darryl was lying on his back on top of the large Juniper bushes that lined his front porch. The wheelbarrow containing my neighbor’s girlfriend was racing down the hill towards the now unguarded intersection. Her legs were pointed straight up to the sky like some sort of bizarre sailing ship masts. I suddenly realized that we had grossly underestimated the wheelbarrow’s capability of speed and I was sure that we were on the way to making the evening news:
“Two people were killed today when a fifty-gallon drum exploded, vaporizing a welder and sending a woman down a large incline in a wheelbarrow whose wheel and skids were blown off by the blast. The woman was killed when the wheelbarrow impacted a large cow, standing and possibly mooing for help as it stood in a pasture at the bottom of the long roadway. Local residents said they did not hear the blast that broke out windows for miles around, and did not recall seeing an impromptu bar, located at the end of an off-duty police officer’s driveway.”
You could hear a pin drop among us at the impromptu bar. In slow motion, our eyes were glued on the 50-gallon drum, following its descent back to earth, landing just behind the wheelbarrow, now traveling at Mach 4, and closing in on the intersection. Just beyond Darryl’s body, still lying in the Juniper bush, and whom we now assumed was dead, a deputy sheriff’s patrol car slowly approached the intersection. I was quite sure he was interested in the sonic boom that originated some 30 yards from his car.
Although I had a strong urge to run, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the wheelbarrow as it approached the intersection where the deputy sheriff, now stopped and out of the car, was standing in the road holding any traffic that might be approaching. I was now sure that we would all go to jail.
Just as fast as the wheelbarrow was heading to doom, it all ended.
The wheelbarrow did in fact rocket well past the intersecting roads but thanks to a sharp incline just past it, the wheelbarrow slowed to a stop some 50 yards beyond. My neighbor’s girlfriend was still intact and assisted out of the wheelbarrow by a couple of teenagers.
The deputy recovered and then delivered my neighbor’s girlfriend back to the top of the hill with some advice—something about getting her sober and getting her some underwear. (A month later they broke up after she almost burned his house down shooting off bottle rockets in the living room.)
Darryl survived the welding explosion although he had to shave off what was left of his seven-year old beard and twenty-five year old eyebrows. We didn’t see him for a month.
As for us, in order to satisfy our bets previously made, we planned to race the wheelbarrow down the hill again but having seen how fast it could move, we made some safety changes in the form of a cinderblocks from the impromptu bar. We tied the cinderblock to a rope that was tied off after running it through one of the holes where the wheelbarrow handles used to be. We figured the driver needed to throw the cinderblock out, at some point, as he approached the intersection. In theory, it should stop the wheelbarrow in a reasonable amount of space. In reality it didn’t work all that well.
Towards the end of Skeet’s first and only run, he veered off to the right and took out his second mailbox of the day. The sudden stopping of the wheelbarrow however did not deter the forward motion of the cinderblock which caught him upside his head, sending him to La-La land for a few minutes. His wife, who was never all that social to begin with, later demanded we cover for the co-pay at the ER. As a tribute to Skeet’s future lost freedom, we did.
The moral of the story? There is none except, unlike me, please be careful in this mess and remember that ice, snow, welding torches, and vapor-filled fifty-gallon drums may seem like a good idea at the time but like Oprah, should be taken in moderation.
Hot tips on pepper spray and staying safe
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Remember to use some commons sense during all this nice warm weather. If you’re going to run or jog after work, remember that it gets dark earlier and that cars, when they hit pedestrians, generally come out in better shape. Make sure you have a vest or jacket with reflective material on it. You could carry a light or a large torch or maybe just duct tape some flashlights on your head. Whatever.
The other warning is this: Don’t get out there and get yourself isolated, after dark, where you’re vulnerable to being robbed. Street-level robberies are all based on the opportunity, which in this case is darkness and an isolated victim. Running with someone else greatly enhances your chances of NOT being attractive as a target. If you run and especially if you’re a woman, do yourself a big favor and buy a can of pepper spray.
Pepper spray is a non-toxic self-defense product derived from hot cayenne peppers, the same type of peppers used when cooking. Most pepper spray contains 15 percent Capsaicin* as the active ingredient. This in turn produces a defense spray measuring 2 million Scoville Heat Units, probably named after a guy named Bob Scoville.
More Than You Want To Know *Capsaicin is the oil extracted from the placenta tissue just below the stem of the hot pepper. Capsaicin determines the pungency of the red peppers. The pungency of these peppers is measured in Scoville Heat Units (SHUs) and is not to be confused with OC percentages. OC percentages only measure the amount of pepper. Scoville Heat Units is also known as the dry weight of Capsaicin in the spray. 2 million SHUs is the maximum amount of pungency contained in any defense spray.
Bottom Line: Good Stuff. You can buy it online. Remember the contents and don’t buy the key-chain mist type of pepper spray. You want something that will shoot a distance of about ten feet. If you are having problems finding it online, send me an e-mail. Remember that although pepper spray isn’t lethal, it is effective so be careful and remember the first rule of pepper spray: Know which direction it’s pointed in.
Some, but not all, incidents reported to the Sandy Springs Police over the past week:
Office Creepers
A woman said that someone took her wallet from her work desk, at her office at 5670 Peachtree Dunwoody Rd. She said she observed an unauthorized male in the office. She asked the man what or who he was looking for. He replied that he was looking for the Pharmacy. She said she thought he had something in his jacket. Her credit cards were soon used for over $1000 in the metro area.
A woman reported that a man came into her business in the 6500 block of Rowell Road and asked to use a phone, located at the rear of the office. She walked back, retrieved the phone, and when she returned, the man was gone. He had taken her black back bag from a shelf located at the front of the office area. (You should seriously consider keeping all employee personal items safely secured in a rear, and preferably locked area. The man ismelled of intense body odor. (Homeless guys have little to lose and make good office creepers. They’ve got all day to do it and a night in jail is like a hotel stay.)
Friends You Don’t Need
Benjamin reported that he let Calvin spend the night at his apartment along with some other friends. The next morning, Calvin said he needed bus fare so Benjamin gave him two bucks. Calvin said he was thirsty so Benjamin laid his wallet down and went into the kitchen to get Calvin some water. When he came back, Calvin had taken the rest of Benjamin’s money from his wallet and was doing the 100-yard dash down the road. Benjamin chased him but finished second. All he knows is that the man’s name is Calvin. He doesn’t know his last name and said Calvin lives in West End.
Keep walk in the park from turning deadly
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Isn’t it sad, that in this day and time, when we’ve solved so many problems in so many different areas, we find ourselves still subjected to the animalistic behavior of goons who prey on people, in this case Meredith Emerson?
Gary Michael Hilton, charged with allegedly kidnapping and killing, appears to be an example of everything that we need to protect ourselves from; a reminder that you can never really afford to let your guard down.
This girl left to walk her dog in Vogel State Park, a place that I’ve been to a dozen times. It’s a nice place with a lake and paddle boats and cabins and a lot of acreage to enjoy just being out and about. Its relatively isolated surroundings provide the necessary cover to commit the crime.
It could just as easily been a parking lot or the interior of a home or backyard or just about anywhere that provides some privacy. How are you supposed to know when and where something like this can happen? There’s no way to predict it.
Beyond the psychology of the criminal mind and the reasons that may be offered to explain why Hilton did what law enforcement officials say he did once his trial begins, here is what I think: Meredith Emerson’s killer is defective. Somewhere in the murderer’s mind, he rationalized that his actions will feed the demons, or the voices, or whatever it was that led him to cause this girl’s death. It wasn’t enough to take her life. He had to subject her to the suffering, of God knows what, for perhaps three days before he killed her and then decapitated her. It’s almost like he needed to inflict a final cruel insult to her.
To read about this in the paper, or online, or watch the news video showing, you see it at a distance. The thing that always amazed me about walking into a crime scene and viewing the victim of a violent homicide, is that there is no where to hide from it. You can’t switch the channel. It’s total exposure to the graphic end to someone’s life. The first thing you try to figure out is why would someone do this to another person? Who knows? There are a million reasons humans deviate from normal, decent behavior, but one thing is sure. They are defects not intended to be among us. They should be in jail—or beyond. On television however, you remain at a distance and it never really sinks in—at least as it should, that this could happen to any of us.
Long past yours and my lifetime, these goons will still be out there. They will blend right into the community and by looking at them; you wouldn’t know what’s going on in their twisted little minds.
Women are especially vulnerable because they’re women. As such, if this case doesn’t do anything else, I hope that it will open the eyes of all of us but specifically women who may think that this happens to other people and not them. Just take a few minutes and think ahead when you plan an event. First of all, get over the anger of realizing that crime is unfair. We all want to live in a place where everything is lovely and everyone loves one another. Let me know if you find this place. I’m so there if you do!
This stuff can happen to you, male or female. Probably the worst feeling in the world is realizing that you are about to be victimized and you are totally unprepared. You don’t know when something is going to happen but maybe you need to think about “what if,” and “worst-case scenarios.”.
For example, if you jog, run, walk, or whatever, at night, you’re at risk more so than if you do this during daylight hours. That’s not to say something can’t happen in the daytime but your chances are better that it won’t. Running with a large dog may make one feel safe but don’t count on it.
Running or walking: Don’t go alone. I can’t tell you how much better your chances are of deterring a crime simply by having another person with you. Think, at least for a minute or so, of what you are doing and what could happen. If you’re on a walking trail, seclusion is not your friend. If you’re going to walk trails, especially alone, you’re crazy not to have a can of pepper spray in your hand, as you walk and you really, really, need to take a friend with you. Bike trails are no different and we know that based on the murder of Jennifer Ewing in July, 2006. Long stretches of secluded areas present opportunities for someone who is capable of a crime and maybe now looking for a place to commit it. You just don’t know. What you can do however is look at things a little differently.
When you go out. When you’re at home alone, or in the car at night, or jogging, or wherever you are, what is the worst thing that could happen. What if someone approaches you and asks for directions or just walks in one direction and then turns towards your direction or something else that brings someone into your personal space? What do you do? The first thing you should do is totally disregard any worry about “awkwardness” in social situations. What is your personal space? Is it twelve feet? Twenty feet? What do you do when someone gets in it? I’m not suggesting that you taser the pizza guy when you answer the door but even thinking in that direction is a good move. “What if” is worthy of some thought before you do whatever it is you’re going to do on that day or evening.
Some folks send me mail from those who say “I’m not going to live my life in fear. You’re trying to make me afraid to even go out!” Not so—but, I would bet that if you decided to walk down a street late at night, knowing that it could be dangerous but then saying to yourself “I’m not going to live my life in fear,” and then, while walking down the street, you get mugged, well, I’ll bet that at least once, you would say to yourself: “Man, I wish I would have thought that one through a bit.”
Don’t live in fear but do realize that bad things happen to good people. One of the contributing factors, always present at a crime, is opportunity.
All I’m saying is work on reducing that opportunity by just thinking ahead.
Be safe, buy pepper spray, and remember to point it in the right direction!
Crime & punishment
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
A 14-year old juvenile reported that just after 10 p.m. he was walking on a wooded path behind the tennis court at 100 Hampton Drive when he was jumped by five males. The suspects hit him several times and then took about two-bucks from him. He suffered bruises and cuts to the face. He was taken to Scottish Rite Hospital and checked out. He will be okay. The suspects were described as in their mid-20’s. The report said that they called out to him and told him to “come over” to their location. That would be the clue to turn it up a notch and get out of there—quickly.
A woman said that someone used a key to enter her apartment at 144 Allen Road and then took a vase and three cans of Coke.
This victim said that he believes he was pick-pocketed while shopping at the Kroger Store in the 4900 block of Roswell Road. Gone are his wallet and credit cards as well as $40 cash. Here is a good idea. Male or female, wear jeans and put your wallet or your debit/credit cards and cash in your FRONT pocket. It is hard to steal from your front pocket.
A woman, described as elderly, came into the Kroger Store on Dunwoody Club Drive, lined her cart with newspaper ads, as to restrict looking into it I guess, and filled the car with about 40 items totaling $181. She then kept on pushing the cart past the checkout and out the door. The employees, who actually recognized her from internal memos describing her as a shoplifter, followed her. They asked her to stop and come back inside but she refused, got into her van and left—without the cart of groceries. The tag is registered to an address which is less than a mile from the Kroger.
Scenes from Bad Movies
Alex was out with a girl. They went out on New Year’s Eve in once-fashionable Buckhead. They got into an argument and then, just after 4 a.m., drove back to Peachtree Dunwoody Road, where she lived. Alex said the girl’s brother drove up and her brother’s friend got out with an ASP baton, which is an expanding baton that hurts when expanded on your head. Alex did what was probably the smartest thing he did all night and ran off before any expansion could occur.
Oscar Alcantara-Rosas, age 26, from Northwood Drive, Sandy Springs, was arrested for his attempt to shoplift the following at the Target Store: Two leather jackets and four packs of watches. He concealed the four packs of watches in his pants and then put the jackets one, one on top of the other. Now picture this: Oscar looks like he’s on some serious steroids which by appearance alone, made it appear that he had serious anatomic deformities. So there he goes, walking out of the store looking like Frankenstein, with his arms sticking straight out because he can’t bend his arms. That attracts a good bit of attention to the security staff monitoring the cameras. On top of that, everyone he passed on the way out the door, said: “Hey look! That guy’s %#$@ is shaped like four packs of watches!!”
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