Sometime after dark on March 5th my car was broken into and most of the things inside were stolen. Normally, I don't leave much, if anything of value inside my car. I know better. But on this particular evening I happened to be particularly stupid. Not only did I leave a bag full of valuable items in the back seat, I parked outside my gate, on the street.
I live in a small cottage that shares property with a Montessori school. On occasion, the school holds events in the evening, and my driveway is used as a parking lot. Not a problem. I park my car on the road until the event is over, then move it inside the safety of the driveway gate. I did not move my car off the road on March 5th. I fell asleep before the event ended.
The next morning I expected to see my car in the driveway. It took me a few moments to remember I had left it on the road. I walked out to my car, opened the back door and tossed my bags on the seat. It wasn't until I was sitting in the driver's seat that I realized something was amiss. Why are the contents of the glove box tossed across the passenger seat? My first thought was innocent: I left the window open and monkeys got in! That would have been nice. Instead, I found the passenger window had been shattered, an impossible feat for even the craftiest of monkeys.
Reality sank in. My car had been broken into.
I did a quick inventory of what was missing and what had been left. Phone charger: gone. Sunglasses: gone. Imbali J art supplies: untouched! At first, the damage seemed minimal. Insurance would cover most of the cost of a new window, and my most valuable possessions, 6 boxes filled with colored pencils, scissors, and glue sticks, had been mercifully left behind.
I reached into my bag for my wallet, containing insurance information. No wallet. I had left the wallet in my gym bag. Where is my gym bag? I had left the gym bag on the back seat of the car. Gym bag: gone. Damage reassessment: shit. Forget car insurance; I called the police.
While waiting for the police I made a list of everything that was in my gym bag, including the contents of my wallet. Then I set about calling banks and credit card companies. I have lost wallets before. Practice makes perfect.
Here is a list of everything stolen from my car:
Surprisingly, I was unruffled. Perhaps because I was too busy chastising myself for being so irresponsible. I also knew that everything could be replaced and my car window could be fixed. I counted myself lucky the car was there at all.
Two friendly policemen arrived at my house and recorded the report. An hour later, a fingerprint specialist came by to dust my car. I was fascinated by his tools and bottles of colored dust. He explained the process and pointed out traces of the intruder, who had cleverly donned gloves.
As the fingerprint specialist continued to work, I examined at the mess on the passenger seat. Amongst the scattered items of my glove box I noticed a small knife – not mine. I pointed it out and suggested we dust it for prints. Detective Regina, at your service. No luck – only the clear print of a gloved thumb.
The prints revealed by fine black dust told a story about the thief who broke into my car – shadows of a destructive act. Broken glass is broken glass; finger prints are palpable traces of a human being. A person, like me, had broken the window of my car and took my things. Suddenly, I felt distinctly violated and hurt.
Over the next couple of weeks I steadily resolved the damage that had been done. The broken window has been fixed; the contents of my wallet, including the passport have been replaced; I ordered new sunglasses (an identical pair to those that had been stolen) and a new iPod Shuffle; and I bought a new pair of running shoes, which I broke in right away.
As I ran through my neighborhood I noticed workers making their way toward the taxi rank or riding in the bed of a bakkie. I could not help but wonder if any of them had left their glove prints on my car. I hate such thoughts. People are good. It is unfair to look on others suspiciously because of one unfortunate event. I resolved to smile and wave as I always do. But I will never park outside my gate again or leave valuable items in my car. Lesson learned.
I live in a small cottage that shares property with a Montessori school. On occasion, the school holds events in the evening, and my driveway is used as a parking lot. Not a problem. I park my car on the road until the event is over, then move it inside the safety of the driveway gate. I did not move my car off the road on March 5th. I fell asleep before the event ended.
The next morning I expected to see my car in the driveway. It took me a few moments to remember I had left it on the road. I walked out to my car, opened the back door and tossed my bags on the seat. It wasn't until I was sitting in the driver's seat that I realized something was amiss. Why are the contents of the glove box tossed across the passenger seat? My first thought was innocent: I left the window open and monkeys got in! That would have been nice. Instead, I found the passenger window had been shattered, an impossible feat for even the craftiest of monkeys.
Reality sank in. My car had been broken into.
I did a quick inventory of what was missing and what had been left. Phone charger: gone. Sunglasses: gone. Imbali J art supplies: untouched! At first, the damage seemed minimal. Insurance would cover most of the cost of a new window, and my most valuable possessions, 6 boxes filled with colored pencils, scissors, and glue sticks, had been mercifully left behind.
I reached into my bag for my wallet, containing insurance information. No wallet. I had left the wallet in my gym bag. Where is my gym bag? I had left the gym bag on the back seat of the car. Gym bag: gone. Damage reassessment: shit. Forget car insurance; I called the police.
While waiting for the police I made a list of everything that was in my gym bag, including the contents of my wallet. Then I set about calling banks and credit card companies. I have lost wallets before. Practice makes perfect.
Here is a list of everything stolen from my car:
- 3 pairs of sunglasses, including my favorite, which were a gift from my sister
- 1 phone charger
- Gym bag including, iPod Shuffle, heart rate monitor, water bottle, clothing, my trusty running shoes (5 years of service), swimsuit, swim cap, goggles, shower bag, and wallet
Surprisingly, I was unruffled. Perhaps because I was too busy chastising myself for being so irresponsible. I also knew that everything could be replaced and my car window could be fixed. I counted myself lucky the car was there at all.
Two friendly policemen arrived at my house and recorded the report. An hour later, a fingerprint specialist came by to dust my car. I was fascinated by his tools and bottles of colored dust. He explained the process and pointed out traces of the intruder, who had cleverly donned gloves.
As the fingerprint specialist continued to work, I examined at the mess on the passenger seat. Amongst the scattered items of my glove box I noticed a small knife – not mine. I pointed it out and suggested we dust it for prints. Detective Regina, at your service. No luck – only the clear print of a gloved thumb.
The prints revealed by fine black dust told a story about the thief who broke into my car – shadows of a destructive act. Broken glass is broken glass; finger prints are palpable traces of a human being. A person, like me, had broken the window of my car and took my things. Suddenly, I felt distinctly violated and hurt.
Over the next couple of weeks I steadily resolved the damage that had been done. The broken window has been fixed; the contents of my wallet, including the passport have been replaced; I ordered new sunglasses (an identical pair to those that had been stolen) and a new iPod Shuffle; and I bought a new pair of running shoes, which I broke in right away.
As I ran through my neighborhood I noticed workers making their way toward the taxi rank or riding in the bed of a bakkie. I could not help but wonder if any of them had left their glove prints on my car. I hate such thoughts. People are good. It is unfair to look on others suspiciously because of one unfortunate event. I resolved to smile and wave as I always do. But I will never park outside my gate again or leave valuable items in my car. Lesson learned.
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