The last day of February was my brother-in-law's last day at the salt mines. He, gratefully, retired. Adios, so long, good bye! Weather wise, it was a typically cold, stormy February day. Rain blown sideways by a strong, steady wind. Eighteen wheelers blasted volumes of spray on the windshield, as we drove up to Portland to celebrate Jack's retirement with a family dinner gathering and the whole group attending an Eric Clapton concert in Portland's Rose Garden.
Most of my siblings, some of the in-laws and my eighty six year old Mom were there to send Jack off to a happy retirement with a mighty fun event and dinner. And it was special. Los Lobos opened the concert with a loud, refined, spicy set. Then we all leapt to our feet to welcome Eric Clapton to Portland Oregon with a rousing roar. He played many of our old favorites and some new ones, with all the vim, vigor and vitality that he almost always does. Truly, the best concert I have been to in quite some time. We all loved it.
Surviving the traffic jam afterward, we found our way back to my sister's house in South East Portland for a pie and ice cream. The cold, wet and dark night made the drive through an unfamiliar city an adventure filled with small talk about the concert and family gathering. Two different pies and delicious vanilla ice cream were a perfect ending to a perfect retirement celebration. We all stayed up late conversing and contemplating Jack's future endeavors with good feelings and laughter! A good night.
We had traveled two hours to get to Portland and did not wish to drive home late at night on a blustery night. My sister had graciously invited us to spend the night in a spare room, which we welcomed eagerly. Their large and roomy house was a century old, firmly planted in a stately old neighborhood filled with similar houses. The hour was late and we were warned that my nephew, Clark, would be coming in late. No worries. I was tired and surely would fade quickly as soon as my head hit the pillow. A firecracker would not wake me, being that spent. Ellie stayed up and chatted with my sister for a while longer. I vaguely recall her coming to bed sometime later.
Three a.m.: this was my sudden wake up alarm. "DAD, SOMEONE'S BREAKING INTO THE GARAGE"!!!First, Clark's heavy footfalls running down the hall and down the stairs. Then Jack's equally heavy footfalls closely followed. I became wide awake VERY quickly, aware that both Clark and Jack were in pursuit of a burglar. I took just a couple seconds to collect my thoughts and formulate a plan of action. I knew I had to get involved in this. What if the scumbag was armed? Gun? Knife? Club? Accomplice? 6'5" 250 lbs? In light sleeping shorts and t-shirt, after I found my glasses, down the stairs I too, flew!
The back door was open and out into a freezing rain I went, barefoot, barely clad and a bit apprehensive as to what lay ahead.......The garage was a separate structure located out back, accessed by a half-assed paved
alley which paralleled the street. Running down the sidewalk toward the alley, I saw the broken window and somehow missed stepping on the shards of glass with my bare feet.
Jack suddenly appeared from the freezing drizzle in the alley darkness. "CLARK'S GOT HIM DOWN" he shouted as he headed back into the house! "HOLY SHIT", I thought. Complications clouded my racing mind.
What if Clark is overwhelmed? What if? What if? What if???? In the dark of the night and in the adrenaline of the moment a 2x2x4ft garden stake said "Take ME". I did and up the alley I flew!! Apprehensions cast aside, fearing my nephew might be endangered by an unknown evil burglar, adrenaline racing through my veins. My course was set!
Clark, too had a club. He was on top of the scumbag with the club firmly around the front of the perp's neck. He had made the creep drop a large folding jackknife just before I flew onto the scene. My college and high school wrestling experience told me that Clark was too high on this burglar's back and could be overturned. Clark, the hero, dressed in only his underpants let me take over pinning the dude down. An uncle's adrenaline and concern prevailed as I sunk my 240lbs onto the small of the scumbag's back with one knee and slammed my club horizontally across the back of his neck, forcing his face into the hard cold pavement. "SPREAD 'EM" I screamed. One of his hands was under his body and could have had a weapon in it. I eased up just enough to let him slowly get his arm out. "KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE 'EM" I screamed, while I firmly pressed his head and shoulders back into the freezing pavement. "DON'T MOVE!!!!" was my next loud bellow!
Jack had retrieved his cell phone from the house and was desperately trying to dial 911 as he made his way back up the alley in the freezing darkness. Amazing how the fingers fumble under the duress of a freezing night and scary circumstances. It seems like only a few minutes passed after he made contact with the 911 operator when THREE of Portland's Police patrol cars showed up with six officers ready to cuff the creep and throw him in the rear seat of a squad car. We were VERY grateful for their quick response on such a damn cold and wet night. "We were in the neighborhood" Officer Young replied, when I thanked them for their sudden appearance in that dark, damp, cold alley.
Clark and Jack were responding to all the officer's questions, when I asked with a shivering voice "Can we go inside and finish this" And so we did.
Who could have known that Jack's retirement evening would end in the alley, with three cop cars, a captured burglar and us freezing our scantily clad butts off!
