MOLI VIEW™

My possessions seem to be running off into the world. Last weekend, while I was away, someone broke into my house and stole two computers, a video camera, a Playstation 3, and my mother's diamond tennis bracelet and matching necklace. This just a week after I watched a stranger snip my bike lock and ride away right outside my office. Three weeks before, a neighbor chased four preteens after they snatched another bike out of my backyard, but couldn't catch them.

I don't really care about the guy who snipped my bike lock. It was a cheap lock. The bike was on a deserted street in a business district on a Sunday afternoon. He looked to be in his 40s, wore a neatly pressed shirt, and showed no sign of distress when I ran out of the office and tried to stop him. He's been at this game a long time. From now on, I'll use a better lock and keep the bike inside.

But I am worried about the kids in my neighborhood. If they're stealing bikes at 10 or 11 years old, it's a safe bet they'll be after bigger and more dangerous game soon enough. Maybe it was even the preteens, or their brothers or cousins, who broke into my house last weekend. And if it wasn't them, it was probably some other young men from around the way. Maybe friends of my 16-year-old son's friends or friends of their friends. It seems pretty clear that it was somebody who knew us well enough to know our stash and to know the house was empty.

If they're lucky, these kids might end up at the youth crisis shelter where I volunteer on Monday nights. I've seen plenty of stick-up kids and gang-bangers there and they always seem just like my son: rambunctious, creative, eager for praise. I'm always worried about where they're headed next, if they don't turn around.

Previous Page  1  2  Next Page