It’s Day 206 of the Ohio Shutdown and Day 142 of Bowling for Bigots.
Deb and I are doing well.
With it being Throwback Thursday and all, and since “The Students’ Revolution” is slated for tomorrow, I’ve been thinking about a pivotal event here at Second Chance Ranch.
I could call it “The Day the Thugs Came to Town,” but in truth it was “The Day We Realized That the Thugs Are Already Here.”
On Independence Day 2014, our street was the scene of the usual celebrations. We, along with most of our neighbors, hosted family and friends for picnics and cookouts, watched the annual parade and anxiously awaited the fireworks show.
That particular night we noticed that the vibe was different than we’d felt in previous years, and not in a good way. On the sidewalk we saw far fewer young families with strollers and far more “roving bands” (for lack of a better term) of young men. Most seemed to take pleasure in traipsing as close as they could to the houses along their way, practically baiting residents to run them off.
A number of The Entitled Class also parked their cars curbside, blocking an entire lane of travel and interfering with emergency vehicles — I personally witnessed four runs that simply couldn’t pass ’til traffic, one car at a time, cleared the bottleneck. It was maddening.
When the occupants of the cars parked in front of our house returned, I approached and not-so-subtly told them to get the hell out. I could’ve made book on their reaction — nonchalance, entitlement and arrogance. One stayed put, apparently out of spite, yakking on her phone. She didn’t even budge when an ambulance tried to get through.
Later, one of our neighbors noticed that after all of his guests were gone, a car remained parked in his yard. And I don’t mean two wheels up on the curb — I’m talkin’ smack-dab in the middle of his front yard.
The neighbor asked Deb and me, along with several of our like-minded guests, to come over and provide a physical presence. Before long we spied one of those “roving bands” making repeated passes along the sidewalk, looking toward the car but not moving in our direction.
Eventually, a male and female veered off the sidewalk and approached the car. I spoke for my elderly neighbor, invoked the word “trespassing” and asked them to leave. They refused.
The woman, a pint-sized human, threw hands. That was when one of our guests, also a diminutive woman, enthusiastically got in the driver’s face.
It was entertaining as hell.
At that point the cops showed up, on foot, responding to six (count ’em) 911 calls from vehicles passing by on the street. Interviews followed. The officers, bless ’em, complicated the trespassers’ lives for about 20 minutes, then told the pair to get in their car and leave.
One of the responding officers, a sergeant, referred to the offending parties as “stupid people” (among other things). We all laughed.
That night was a microcosm of what we’d seen infecting American society and culture. And for my family and me, it was a wake-up call — we already knew that this isn’t Mayberry, but the events of July 4, 2014, let us know that The Mob had come to where we live.
Not close — right here.
As for tomorrow night… we’ll see. I have every confidence that our police department will take care of business. We’ll certainly do our part.
Take care of yourselves. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
And stand your ground.