Interrupting Our Scheduled Programming

The house on the left lit up with police everywhere is the neighbor’s house, and the house on the right with the little question mark is our house.

So, no this doesn’t have anything to do with Sexual Assault Awareness, but it did happen in my neighborhood last night and was basically a trigger of epic proportions so I need to write about it and get it all out of the way.

One of our neighbors decided it was a grand idea to fire off somewhere in the neighborhood of 24 rounds outside his back window last night, then refuse to cooperate with police, barricading himself in his house for somewhere in the neighborhood of five hours. Hubs ran back into the bedroom where I was just about to fall asleep with my headphones in, and turned on the bedroom light. He asked me if I still had my headphones in, to which I replied yes before removing one to talk to him. As soon as I did I heard multiple shots ring out. Like, not two or three, but at least three full semi auto clips. We estimated there was about 24 shots. Hubs looked at me and said: “Is that gunfire?” To which I replied: “Uh… yeah. That’s definitely gunfire, and it’s definitely a lot. Call the police.” He looked at me and said: “Well, I don’t know…” before wandering over to our gun cabinet and loading up his 44. I asked him how many shots had gone off before he came to get me and he said there had been at least 18 total, so I immediately dialed 911 to report it.

After we hung up with dispatch police descended on our neighborhood circling around trying to find the source of the gunfire. It took them about 30 minutes to zero in on one house across the street and three houses down from ours. A county car, all of the undercover cars, and two detectives rolled up and parked on our side of the street. We couldn’t really see much aside from their lights flashing. Really the only reason we were able to see anything is because everyone had to drive by our house to get there. The detectives were there for about twenty more minutes until the squad cars started to arrive. First it was just one or two, then slowly they began to block off our entire neighborhood. I’m not sure how many officers we have on the city force currently as they’ve been adding more over the years, but I’m fairly certain everyone on duty showed up.

I was hovering around the back of the house ready to grab our Little and defend our home, Hubs was in the front of the house peering through the blinds trying to figure out what was going on. I had calmed down significantly after the police arrived. It had just been detectives and squad cars, no EMT’s or coroner vehicles had showed up so we assumed someone had just had too much to drink and forgot about the city firearms ordinance. We do live in a small rural town. Gunfire on weekends isn’t exactly unusual, but that much and that close is what made it scary. I headed back to the bedroom just sitting down to check the local news when Hubs ran back into the room and yelled: “The SWAT team just showed up!! Get the Little.”

I replied with an astounded: “WHAT?!” before bolting out of bed and racing into our Little’s room. Instead of grabbing her out of bed, I snuggled in beside her. She sleeps low enough to the ground that I wasn’t worried about an errant bullet, and I figured that if we were in significant danger some one would knock on our door and let us know or usher us out to safety. I stayed there until the voice of the police echoed over the loud speaker demanding that Richard Johnson (seriously. That’s his name, and yes in the intensity of the moment I made the obvious joke about our neighborhood being hijacked by a dick) come out of his home. At that, I left our Little to sleep in peace and raced to the front of the house to stand by Hubs and see what else we could hear. We listened as best as we could from the relative safety of our back yard, but couldn’t really make anything out with the wind blowing in the opposite direction.

The loudspeaker conversation was brief, before the two hours of limbo we all waited in to see what was going to happen. I was all over every social media outlet I could think of trying to get information. Twitter works people. My frantic tweeting to the local newspaper caught the attention of the news stations in Indianapolis who began following the story and updating us with as much information as they had available. That lasted for another two hours before the neighbor finally sobered up enough to surrender peacefully. Hubs watched the police file out of the neighborhood and then my phone buzzed with the word that the standoff was over.

That my friends, was one of the most intense situations I’ve been wrapped up into in a very long time. Making it exceptionally more surprising is the fact that it happened in our quiet little town. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of police activity and been stuck in the house during a police situation before, but that was living down town in the straight up ghetto. Never in a quiet little rural town, and especially not so close to home. So anyway… I’m a little bit frazzled and edgy today, but on the plus side no one was hurt, and I didn’t have any nightmares or flashbacks! Small victories, in a crazy ass world.

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