Sgt. Mom’s post from a few days ago reminded me of an incident I had some 8 or 9 years ago. It turned me into a proud gun owner quickly afterward. I have since moved from the place where this event happened.
Like Sgt. Mom, I lived in suburbia in a pretty quiet neighborhood. This area isn’t as social as Sgt. Mom’s group – we would wave here and there to people we knew, but there was a general malaise as far as neighborhood associations and the like went.
It was 4am and my doorbell started ringing over and over and over. I grabbed the baseball bat I kept in my bedroom for just such an occasion, told my wife to call 911 and slowly walked downstairs. I checked the back door first and there didn’t appear to be anyone out there so I slowly went to the front door, all the time the doorbell constantly ringing. I peeked through the glass pane on the side of the door and there was a guy ringing the doorbell with his nose.
In my most courteous voice, I screamed at him “What the f*ck are you doing?!” He backed away from the doorbell to reveal that he had his hands zip tied behind his back, had one sock on, no shoes, and a towel wrapped around his neck. He looked like he had just ran a marathon at top speed and had some sticks sticking out of his body.
He started yelling at me – he is coming to get me! He has a gun! Let me in! At this point I slowly walked to the back door again to make sure this wasn’t some sort of a ruse and told my wife to get my other child in the furthest room. The back door once again seemed clear. My wife was 8 months pregnant at the time, I might add. I asked her again if she called 911 and she said she did. She was on the phone with them and asked me what the hell was going on down there.
I told her that I figured that a guy hopped up on drugs was at the door and I was not going to let him in.
I went back to the front door and the guy started getting more agitated. My mind was racing and so was my adrenalin. He screamed at me again pleading to let him in and I told him that if he tried to come into this house that I was going to tap a tune on his cranium. In not so nice words. At a very high volume.
I started to think that there was perhaps a bomb or other nasty device under the towel that was wrapped around his neck. I asked him not so politely to remove himself from my front door area.
He did so probably after seeing me with the veins in my neck bulging out and me waving the baseball bat at him. He stood in my front yard for the better part of ten minutes. I started then screaming at my wife asking her where the cops were?! In the tiny suburb I lived in, I could practically throw a rock at the cop shop. I could hear her swearing at the 911 operator too. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, a cop from another district arrived and picked the guy up. But they didn’t seem to arrest him, they snipped the zip tie from his hands and put him in the squad. The cops got my name and drove away. My wife and I sat down on the sofa, looked at each other and didn’t know what to say. I got a drink. It was about 4.30am by this time.
The next day a cop came by to ask us some questions and we found out what the deal was. Up the street about a mile or so there were some gay guys that lived together and there was some sort of lovers triangle. The owner of the house was actually a once prominent state of Wisconsin politician who was retired and on a vacation in Europe. The house was a rental.
The lovers triangle went south and two guys tied the other one up and were beating him. The towel was a gag. He escaped through a basement window. One of the other guys chased him with a gun. At this time the cops showed up to that house. The guy with the gun shot at the cops (!), got in a car and a car chase ensued to another town. So ALL the cops chased that guy, while the tied up guy who still thought he was being chased by the guy with the gun started heel-toeing it through my neighborhood. After getting several firearms pointed at his face from people on the block, he ended up at my house and got the bat pointed at his face.
The guy who shot at the cops and who was leading the chase stuffed his car into a field, ran a short distance, then shot himself in the head before the cops could arrest him.
I honestly don’t know what happeed to the guy who ended up on my porch. But it taught me that I needed a gun and that crazy stuff can happen anywhere.