Posted by
AJH on Monday, June 02, 2008 6:23:00 PM
Shortly after graduating from high school I began working the graveyard shift at a convenience store. It was a rude awaking to the societal ills of Salem. I was young and quite naïve, though I believe most residents of Salem are also ignorant of these problems.
About 2 a.m. in the dark of night all of the strange oddballs come out. What they do during the day I have no idea, but many of these people were quite scary. Some were addicted to drugs or alcohol; others were hookers or johns. Prostitution was and still is prevalent in that part of town and a very serious concern. Every once in awhile the city police target the area, usually focusing on the street walkers and the customers.
Poverty was a common affliction. One of the saddest aspects of this story is that the neighborhood is centered on a school where young kids congregate, Highland Elementary. The store, a 7-Eleven, is nearby at the intersection of Pine and Broadway in northeast Salem.
Often for a few hours traffic into the store would be virtually non-existent, so I would always look for something to do rather than be lazy and bored to death. One night I noticed a peculiar man in the front of the store, loitering outside for a very long time. He must have been waiting for someone or just avoiding the wife at home, I thought. I went on working. Then, after some time, as I was busy cleaning the top of the ice making machine, the man approached the register with a ton of food, haphazardly putting all sorts of junk on the counter. It was just weird. I had never seen someone buy so much stuff at the store before, but I ignored this and kept working while my co-worker handled the customers.
With my head down cleaning, out of the corner of my eye I noticed another much taller man bound around the counter into our workspace, obviously for employees only. At first I thought he was just drunk and excited about something, maybe looking for some new friends. Boy was I wrong. I knew my fellow employee could handle it and would. He was a Marine, a bit older, but intelligent and not someone to mess with. After looking away for a brief moment, my eyes returned to the counter area, seeing a short knife at the throat of my co-worker.
Thankfully, the tough Marine had his hands up in a non-confrontational manner, politely asking the thug what he wanted. The tall man responded that he wanted the register opened, so we complied. We gave him what money we had, around $75 I think, which was a bit much for that time of night. We’d just had a few customers and hadn’t had the time to drop the money into the safe.
It was obvious that the man was high on something. He was literally bouncing as he walked, much like Winnie the Pooh’s friend Tigger. The man who had cased the store was sweating and nervous. He was standing at the same place where he had dropped his load of groceries from his fake shopping spree. He clearly did not want to be there or a part of it. He was very passive and didn’t say a word. His partner did all of the work and talking, controlling the entire situation.
The main man was quite funny. He wanted to know what was in a plain brown paper bag. It was full of redeemed lottery tickets, which we explained were used, torn in half and worthless. He grabbed the bag anyway. This lead him into the idea of stealing quite a few new lottery game cards. He made off with a bunch. If I remember correctly, he asked a lot of questions, but was quick about it. On their way out, as he ran off, he snatched a couple of the pink-frosted muffins or cupcakes his friend had brought up to the counter. Both men scuttled out the door.
As I was about to follow them to see which way they were running, my co-worker, who was older, probably a little younger than my father, told me to run after them. I gave him a look and then he said, “I’ll follow them. You call the police.” We didn’t have a gun or anything. The nearest thing to a weapon was a broom or mop. I wish we had a shotgun or something. I would have had no problems shooting these guys in the a** from behind. They certainly had it coming.
At any rate, as the Marine ran after them somewhat, I was watching and fortuitously right at that very moment, a city police car was driving south on Broadway just north of the traffic light at Pine. Immediately, I flagged the car down, motioning that something was wrong. I looked into the window and was a bit surprised. The cop was a woman. Quickly she rolled the window down and I filled her in on what was happening. Before I knew it she was out of the car, running in the direction of the criminals. They had been jumping fences, making their way through people’s backyards.
It was certainly an exciting night, one which I retell to friends from time to time. My co-worker and I returned to the store and waited, telling the story to other officers for the record. After awhile, the policewoman returned mostly empty-handed, except for the bag of lottery tickets and two rather squished pink-frosted cupcakes. She never found the men or anything else, which was disappointing. She was right on them, and I still don’t understand how she could not have found them. A few well-trained dogs would have easily tracked them down. I had a feeling they were breathing heavily, hiding in bush in someone’s yard, watching and waiting. Thankfully, no one was hurt and the damage was minimal.
I have always wondered about these men and the incident. I have a sort of journalistic curiosity. Questions I would ask include:
What drugs was this man taking?
Why did his nervous friend accompany him?
Why did the police who were right on the criminals’ tails fail to find them?
What other crimes and how many had these men committed and would commit?