The Police rang my doorbell at 5:30 this morning. I was very slow to wake up when the bell rang. Saoirse wasn't barking right away, and there was someone on the porch with a flashlight. It took me a minute to stumble to the door and recognize the silhouette of a cop out front. I opened the door, and looked over his shoulder. My first words were, "How in the hell did I sleep through that?" Apparently several minutes earlier, there was another hit-and-run on our street, the second in a month, the third in as many years. This time, it was Mr S-P's cars.
Yeah, I said cars. Plural. This kid not only smashed one of them. He got three in one hit. The junky farm truck was parked under the streetlight. He hit that hard enough to move it into the 4runner, which rolled from north of the driveway to south of it (40-50 feet), and the truck rolled up on the sidewalk, and scraped a wheel against the grill of the Focus. All three of the Mr's drivable vehicles in one smash. He is fairly certain if the 4runner hadn't taken the first hit, his truck would have been t-boned into his Focus. Heck, at that point it might have hit mine too.
We wandered around with the cop for a while. We found the ripped up front license plate of the truck that hit our cars, as well as the grill that identified it as a Dodge Ram. One of the cops looked up the address and went to arrest the driver. Turns out it was the 13 year old child of the truck owner. This kid was taken into custody, and taken to the hospital for blood tests to see whether they were intoxicated, and if so, with what. I suspect this is as far as we will ever know about what happened, unless it gets written up in the paper.
And once you see the photos, ask yourself how I possibly could have failed to hear this. No, I had not taken any sort of sleep aid. I don't think I have ever slept so soundly in my life.
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