Not much excitement in this little town on a daily basis. So, when the doorbell rings at 12:45AM on a Thursday night, I’m a little startled…. O.K., set the stage - Thursday night and it is not really business as usual as we are watching Barack and HIllary “duke” it out or, as I read it, kill each other with kindness. I don’t know when my brain shut down, but Owen’s must have at about the same time. We both awoke when the “debate” was over, which was about 9pm. We were, thankfully, spared from most of the foolishness that went on between those two.
We head to bed and I fall asleep fairly quickly. I had slept lightly the couple of nights before as Samantha had spent the night with us. So when my head hit the pillow last night, I was down for the count. Then, the doorbell rings - and I don’t mean just once. It was many, very fast rings. At first, I thought I was dreaming and that Owen’s snoring was what awakened me, but as I put my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes, there it was again. I jumped up, calling for Owen to get up and get his “friend” — something was wrong. We both head to the closets for our robes. I head out the bedroom door and grabbing the portable phone in the office, get to the window of the breakfast room. All I could see was a string of flashing lights lined up down Routt Rd. There were probably seven police vehicles in all and a fire truck with all the lights flashing. Now, that will wake you up in a hurry! I decide that it is probably safe to go to the front door, which I get to through the living room. In the meantime, Owen is coming down the hall with his “friend” at the ready not yet aware of the scene outside. As I got to our glass front door, I could clearly see the sheriff was the one ringing the bell. When I opened the door, he calmly (well sort of - he was a little out of breath) instructed me to have everyone stay inside, not go to a window or door nor open them. They were in pursuit of a suspect in the area and would keep us informed. He inquired about who owned the property on the side of the house and behind the fence line. I told him that we owned the whole corner. He told me that a car had driven through the yard and was somewhere on the property and again said that he would keep us informed. O.K., now this really gets my mind to racing… Just as I close the door, the phone rings. It’s the dispatcher from the sheriff’s office asking if I am in my residence and if I am o.k. I was very impressed with the thoroughness of the Washington County Sheriff’s office. Though there were police from Waller County also, it was the sheriff’s office in Washington County that was taking care of us. And I thank them because they didn’t know at this point what exactly was happening other than they had been chasing a suspect in a car that had sped off from a police officer who had tried to stop them.
A few minutes later - probably less than 3 or 4 - the same deputy sheriff comes back to the door to inform us that they have found the suspect — in his car. I relate to him the story of another car having run through our yard last year and that I was happy that at least we would know who it was so we could have him pay for the damages. Deputy says, “Mam, he probably won’t be paying for anything.” Hmmmmmm. I’m assuming that he must have hit the ground really hard - you know… “Happy Trails to You”. Deputy asks for my driver’s license (What?), my name, phone number, etc. I ask if he would like to step inside out of the cold. Says, “I prefer not.” O.K…. I say, “I’m sure glad that my house is over here and not where he came through.” Deputy says, “You located well.” At this point, I was chuckling to myself. But, I guess you had to be there. I wish I could convey on paper the way this conversation sounded. When I thought about it later, I just laughed and laughed. So, off they go to finish their business. By this time, it is sometime after 1am. Owen takes off outside with the spotlight and to turn on some floodlights for them and to survey the damage to our property - at least what he could ascertain on such a dark night. Unfortunately, he wasn’t awake enough to think about taking the camera with him - nor was I. However, as we were sitting having our glass of milk, I had the thought that if our son, Bradley, was here he would be gathering evidence. Since I didn’t want to go out in the yard where all the policemen were (must have been more than a dozen…), I decided to get my little camera that has video on it. This is the only thing captured last night. Not much to see but lights and listen to my silly comment. I was still dumbfounded about what was going on. At this point, we didn’t know much. But here it is…
The crowning event of the evening was after we had finally gotten back into bed and had just fallen asleep, the doorbell rang once again. This time, it was a couple of different deputies at the door making a request. First, they politely apologized for disturbing us again, but wondered if it would be possible for us to turn the sprinklers off so they could get done with their job a little quicker. I don’t know why I found this funny at 3 o’clock in the morning, but I actually laughed at the request, but told them we would oblige. But, I had to wake up Owen since I didn’t know where to turn them off!
Here are some pictures taken this morning. They were kind enough to pick up most of the debris, but you can clearly see the damage done. In addition, here is the link to the Brenham Banner Press article in today’s paper.
Looking South down Routt Rd. from where the suspect came.
Not sure why markings were made here.
His first “hit”, destroying a large oleander. This is where he went airborne for about 100 feet.
The back bumper apparently landed here.
His second “connection” with the ground. It’s difficult to see from the picture, but this is a huge hole in the ground.
The mess he made as he skid across the yard…
Loosing parts along the way.
This orange tree probably needed topping anyway. LOL
I had not even picked all the oranges on this tree.
This post was put in the ground to last. He went airborne for another 15 feet or so after hitting this fence post.
A view from the other side of the fence.
His third encounter with the turf…
This is where he ended it - literally!
And the car continued for another few feet.
What a night! And you thought we lived the quiet life in the country! Y’all come now, ya here?
(L-R) “Me”, Sheila, Dave, Bradley, Kimberly, Don; Richele with her back turned. Waiting for a parade in Algiers - February, 1979. Yeah…almost seems like yesterday!
