As I stood outside waiting for the police a number of neighbors came out of their houses, each with a tale to tell. The policewoman, when she arrived, recommended that everyone get together and call on the association to do more to protect the property. The association dues are fairly high already, and I suspect a security guard, even just at night, would not add much to the cost. Probably shouldn't add anything, considering.
My car window was broken:
My satellite radio was ripped out, my glovebox opened and everything emptied, my map compartment also, and the little change I had for parking meters was of course stolen.
Worse, they got in the trunk and took two camera lenses, a good tripod, a camera bag, other camera equipment (but fortunately not the cameras themselves; they were inside), plus two boxes of emergency equipment: tools, cleaners, stuff like that, and my auto first aid kit. They probably needed the first aid kit because someone got cut while breaking into these cars. There was blood on a rock as well as on my door handle.
I am telling myself that it's only money. Money will fix this, will replace what I value, over time. Yet I still feel weepy, ready to burst into tears at any second.
The police did arrive, which at least is one good thing. Elaine tells me they wouldn't even show up for her car burglaries a couple of years ago - three of them. Perhaps it was the blood. Or the fact that at least three of us were burglarized. I have the police report number, a form to fill out with details of what was stolen. I called my insurance company and learned that they wouldn't cover anything that was stolen (I don't have a homeowners' policy - we may recall I don't have a home, for that matter, yet) and I have a $500 deductible. My insurance rate won't go up if I file a claim but it may not be worth the trouble.
I'm taking a few breaths now before I decide on my next move.
