Monday, September 05, 2005
Today was a first. I've lived in this neighborhood for 14 years, and although there are a few shady characters renting houses a few blocks east of here, it's always been a quiet neighborhood of dog-walkers and kids on bikes. Sure we have our share of teenagers in their baggy pants and slightly askew ball caps trying to look tough, but they're just kids. Right?
I was cleaning up some stuff in the yard today, picking up what people typically throw out of their cars - a couple of fast food cups, a plastic grocery bag. But the grocery bag had something in it. I opened it up and looked down on somebody's discarded meth kit . . . three syringes, one still had a few cc's left in it, and a couple of spoons.
After thinking about all the little kids that live next door and across the street, I decided to call the police. I didn't really think they could do much, but I figured it might confirm what they already suspected about a certain house - maybe a red flag that might get them patrolling the neighborhood more often. I guess that's a good thing. The nice lady on the phone told me SPD didn't send officers to pick up syringes anymore - too many calls, I suppose.
She told me to very carefully place the syringes and spoons in a milk carton or some closed container and throw it in the trash. (This caused me to think of Mayor Carlson's son, whose arrest we talked about a few months ago. One method of investigation the police used in that case was sifting through the suspect's trash. In fact, they did find seeds and stems that served as a basis for his arrest. Now, the nice police lady is telling me to go ahead and throw the syringes in my trash. I guess the police can tell you to throw drug paraphernalia away, and it's all okay. I think there might be a dusty old bong in the attic - might as well toss it in for good measure.)
But seriously, the discovery of this stuff laying in my yard was a little unsettling. I haven't told the neighbors yet. Children ages 11, 6, 5 and 2 live in homes surrounding the dumping spot. Imagine one of them pulling dirty syringes out of bag - gives me chills.
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