by A. C. Kleinheider

I woke up on Memorial Day thinking that it would be a pretty good day. It was a holiday after all, a day when we honor those whom have died in combat to preserve our way of life. Granted, the blood spilt by my countrymen was not at the forefront of my mind that day. In fact, until noon there was very little on my mind, other than some incoherent dreams, because I was still in bed. That morning I was, as Homer Simpson once said, "a warm toasty cinnamon bun" tucked firmly in my bed resisting any urges to arise.

I did eventually leave my cinnamon bun status behind me in order to whip up some of my world famous onion, garlic, and cheese scrambled eggs/aborted omelet special. When I did emerge from my apartment later that afternoon, the sun was out and I felt relatively at peace with the world. My mood was about to change.

As I took my first glance towards the parking lot something seemed amiss. Although I was looking at the passenger side of my car, it appeared that something was different about the driver’s side window. Surely this was not the case, I assured myself, it must be the glare. When my brisk walk towards the driver side ended, what I had feared proved to be reality. My window had been smashed to bits.

What happened next is sort of hazy. I just stared in disbelief at my window for a good five seconds, then quickly regaining my senses; I investigated to see if anything was missing. Apart from a superficial attempt to extract the CD player there was no further damage and nothing had been stolen. Satisfied that I had fully assessed the damage, I firmly shut the driver’s side door. As the remaining window glass crashed about the floor of my car and the ground around my feet, I began a lengthy and descriptive streak of expletives and had one clear thought: I need to get a gun.

Some of you are saying, "What does having a gun have to do with your car window?" True enough, if I had a gun my window would still be broken. But a violation like damage to your automobile causes you to think about how secure you are and how involved you are with that security. I have never owned a firearm. It’s something I’ve meant to do but never got around to. I grew up in Middle class New Jersey suburbs; my parents were not "gun people". While I was interested in joining the gun culture, it never seemed like an imminent necessity. Having your property violated wakes you up to the fragility of your personal safety and security.

I didn’t file a police report. In part because there was nothing actually stolen, but also because there was nothing the police could (or would) do about it. Being a cop is an honorable profession and seeing them around does make us feel secure, but they are a mop-up squad. We call them and they start work AFTER we have been robbed, raped, or murdered. Few crimes are actually stopped "in progress" by the police. Cops serve an important function in our society but you can’t rely on law enforcement for the protection of your life, property, and loved ones. Law enforcement deals with the "administration" of justice. Their job is not watching your back. That is your job.

A couple of years ago a friend of mine was in a similar position to my own. He too was a victim of primarily vandalism. His window was broken and his CD changer had been tampered with but not stolen. They did, however, steal his emergency roadside kit (I don’t know either) and a vacuum cleaner (don’t ask) out of the back. So he called the police.

He was told that an officer would be dispatched shortly to make out a report and was instructed to contact his insurance company. When my friend inquired as to whether someone would be coming to take fingerprints, he was told, after a slight snicker, that in property crimes such as his that was not common procedure. The police’s job in his case was to make out a report for the insurance company. Case closed. Even if it were a crime worthy of opening a "case", most crimes remain unsolved and when a suspect is arrested the prospect that true justice will be served is unlikely.

Memorial Day is a day when we remember those who died to provide us with freedom. I received an additional reminder about what freedom means. The State can only provide minimal security and little justice. We have to watch our own back. We are not alone, however. We have friends, neighbors, and family and we must rely on them to provide our security. In all likelihood my car was broken into on Sunday night. My alarm must have gone off some time during the night and my window was broken all day. Why did I not know my car had been violated until I rolled my lazy ass out of my apartment in the late afternoon? Because I don’t know my neighbors well enough.

Security comes from the strength and resourcefulness you have as an individual and the strength and resourcefulness of those who are close to you. Security is not an easy state to arrive at. The police are a resource that can be used to provide security, but they are only one resource. The most important resources for true security are those that you find inside yourself, in the people close to you, and, yes, in things that strap to your belt.

June 5, 2000

Copyright © 2001 A. C. Kleinheider