Erin and I were among friends, in the midst of a long-planned and eagerly-anticipated Memorial Day weekend at Sunriver Resort south of Bend, OR, one of our favorite getaway destinations. Central Oregon can be beautiful this time of year, and Sunriver has been a frequent family vacation destination for years. It’s a great place to relax and enjoy life…which is exactly why we were there. We rented a house with three other families, 13 people all told, all people and children I truly enjoy being with. All the ingredients for a fun and relaxing weekend were in place.
Before I get too far along, travel back in time with me, to a time three months ago when Erin and I first moved into the house we’d just closed on. When sorting out the cable and Internet options with the Comcast installer, they offered us a deal on their security system, one that seemed too good to pass up. Neither of us had given any thought to the possible need for a security system, but I knew enough from my insurance adjustor days to understand that it couldn’t hurt when it came to our homeowner’s insurance rates. With that in mind, we agreed to have it installed. We hadn’t had an alarm system in our old house, but we’d move into a neighborhood with a higher crime rate, so what did we have to lose? That was the sum total of our thoughts about security in our new home. I’d never given much thought to what might happen if the house were to be broken into. Why should I? Nowhere I’d lived previously had ever been broken into. Why would I need to start worrying about it in a new house?
I know; I can be SO naïve at times….
We’d quickly become comfortable with the security system, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think that perhaps we were descending into something of a bunker mentality. Was it really worth it? Wasn’t setting the alarm almost every time we left the house kind of superfluous- silly and somewhat paranoid, really? That Saturday night the question was answered.
The eight adults had just wrapped up a rousing game of Cards Against Humanity, amply demonstrating that, given motive, means, and opportunity, we’re all pretty miserable excuses for human beings. We had a great time, and I remember thinking that it had been quite some time since I’d laughed that hard and felt so relaxed. Being with friends I love and respect made it that much better. The only thing on our minds was crawling into bed as we looked forward to what the next day held for us.
As we were saying our goodnights, I got a text message on my phone. When I heard the notification tone, I thought it rather odd. Who’s going to text me at 10:30pm? On a Saturday night? Then I looked at the screen and felt my stomach sink:
“ALARM IN PROGRESS! REPORTED BY THE BACK DOOR SENSOR….” At that moment I knew my weekend had just taken a turn for…I wasn’t quite certain what, but I knew it wasn’t good.
I have an app on my phone that allows me to view a live feed from a security camera installed on the outside of the house and trained on the side garage door. Twenty minutes after alarm, we watched in real time as three Portland Police Bureau officers walked through the back yard and to the back door of our house, shining their flash lights as they traipsed about. I had to remind myself to breathe and stay calm. Even though I’d spoken with a representative from the alarm company a few minutes before, they had no information to share…and yet police officers were crawling over our property. I knew I had to stay calm, if for no other reason than to allow Erin to be emotional if she needed to…and when I become emotional it’s often rather ugly. I didn’t think anyone needed to see that.
Around 11:45pm, I got a call from one of the police officers on scene. She explained that they’d responded to the alarm and arrived to find the back door open. She couldn’t tell me if Fred was anywhere to be found, but they saw no obvious damage and, at least so far as she could tell, nothing appeared to have been taken from the house.
At that point, there wasn’t much of a decision to be made. I had to go home to check on the house. More than anything, I needed to be certain Fred could be located and that he was safe. I was willing to go home by myself, and even tried to talk Erin into staying so at least one of us could enjoy the rest of the holiday weekend. She was having none of it, though, and so we packed quickly and left just before midnight.
Portland is every bit of a three-hour drive from Sunriver, much of it on Highway 26, a narrow, unlit two-lane highway that travels to and over Mt. Hood at Government Camp. I’ve made the trip at night by myself, and in some pretty miserable conditions- thunder, lightning, heavy rain- but doing it well after midnight was something altogether different and unpleasant.
Starting with a bit less than a quarter-tank of gas (I didn’t think I’d need to fill it up until we were leaving on Monday), we weren’t at all certain that we’d find a gas station open in Bend, Redmond, Madras…or anywhere on Highways 97 or 26. Fortunately, we found on open gas station in Redmond, and we were on our way, secure in the knowledge that at least we wouldn’t run out of gas and be stranded in the high desert.
As late as it was, my primary concern was being able to stay awake and alert. Normally on late night trips, I’ll let Erin sleep. That way, at least one of us arrives at our destination rested. On this night, though, I needed her to keep an eye on me, a responsibility she fulfilled with grace and humor. We cranked up the music on my iPod, and except for the fog, the rain, and the coyote that ran in front of the car at Government Camp, the long drive proved blessedly uneventful.
We pulled into the driveway well after 3am, not at all certain what we’d find. I knew from my conversation with the police officer that they’d been able to secure the house, but I needed to see for myself. A quick walk-through determined, much to our relief, that nothing appeared to have been stolen, but there was another problem: Fred was nowhere to be found.
I dashed out onto the back deck, to be almost immediately greeted by a very familiar and decidedly plaintive cry. It took me a moment to place it, and I wasn’t expecting to have to look up to find Fred…but there he was, on the roof of our detached garage. He looked rather nonplussed about his predicament, but he seemed happy enough to see me. Erin grabbed a chair from the dining room, and moments later I grabbed Fred by the scruff of his neck and rescued him. He was frightened- and who could blame? I’m not at all certain how he’d managed to reach the garage roof. There’s no obvious or logical way to access it, but at least he was smart enough to get himself to a place that felt safe.
It could have been much worse. With several feral cats constantly hovering about the yard, Fred would have been at a serious competitive disadvantage. Truth be told, he’s a threat only to himself, and the neighborhood feral cats would have, given the opportunity, torn him apart. At least one of the cats had gotten into a fight earlier in the week, leaking an impressive quantity of blood from a gaping facial wound onto our driveway. Ultimately, though, Fred was fine, if understandably a bit rattled.
Once we had Fred safely domiciled, we checked out the rest of the house. The police officers, to their credit, had done a pretty thorough search. Every single light had been turned on and every door was ajar. It seemed the alarm had done its job, making a helluva racket that no doubt made it difficult for any prospective burglar to be in the house for any length of time- especially at 10:30pm, when many of our neighbors would have still been awake. The molding on the back door was sliced from where the burglar secured entry, but that appears to be the extent of any damage done. We finally crawled into bed at 3:45am and held each other, grateful to have each other and to have returned to an undamaged house. The security system had done its job, and that events of the night had more than justified its continued employment.
A weekend that had begun so happily and with so much promise hadn’t ended in anything near the relaxed manner we’d expected. We lost most of our long weekend in Sunriver, but I found it difficult to be upset; things could have been SO much worse. Had we not decided to install the security system, we might well have returned home to something unimaginable. We’d had a rough and very long night, but that was the worst of it. All things considered, we were incredibly fortunate…and thankful for that good fortune.
I’m grateful to the alarm company for their part in preventing what could have easily been infinitely worse, and to the Portland Police Bureau officers for their professionalism. Their response and the information they provided made the long and very late drive to Portland far less stressful than it might have otherwise been.
There are lessons to be learned from an experience such as this, and I plan on learning and putting them to use. Our back yard is a security nightmare, something I’ve known since Day One but had yet to address. The garage door opens onto an unlit alley with no through access, which makes it perfect for anyone with ill intent. We have the one security camera trained on the garage’s side door, but what’s really needed is more illumination. I’m going to be looking seriously at installing motion-sensitive lights and perhaps putting a padlock on the gate that opens onto the alley. There’s also a gate at the front of our property which allows access to the side and backyard. This area is also unlit, and that may need to change. I’ll never be able to create absolute security, of course, and the last thing I want to do is to turn my home into some sort of fortress (though the idea of digging a moat and filling it with alligators has a certain appeal to it). Neither do I want to be stupid and not learn the lessons to be learned from this experience.
The biggest lesson of all is that things can be replaced, though in this case we won’t need to do that. We have each other; the rest is merely details. Here’s to learning those lessons, especially the ones that teach what’s really important in life. We have each other, our friends, and our families. Houses and things will come and go, but the people in our lives are what will and do sustain us.
My hope is that your holiday weekend was enjoyable…and didn’t include the phrase, “breaking and entering.” Cheers….
