A couple of weeks ago we had a huge apartment fire that burned for three days and destroyed 135 units in near-zero weather. Firefighters with ladder trucks plucked 62 people from balconies while many others had jumped and tossed their children down to neighbors. The building, which had recently been inspected, was built in the 60's before a lot of the modern fire codes were in place and went up like a box of farmer matches.
It was 5 alarms and took a battalion of 100 firemen, many of whom responded within 3 minutes, over 72 hours to put out. It was in a busy, built-up part of town and it is much to the fire department's credit that the damage was contained to the one building of 135 units and a church. If you look at the slideshow and/or video you will see that it is a miracle that only two people were killed. 31 people were treated at the hospital including a firefighter who sprained his ankle slipping on the ice and many hypothermia cases from standing around in pajamas when it's 8 degrees. Still, it could have been a lot worse, which the arsonist, who was mad at his girlfriend, was hoping. First degree murder of two people he didn't even know. The fire forced some residents to leap from balconies in their nightclothes. Firefighters plucked 62 people from windows. The place was destroyed partly because CSFD put people's lives first and saved all but two people.
Now, because of one man's foolish anger and stupidity, 2 people are dead and almost 200 people have lost everything they ever had. These were poor people, squeaking by from week-to-week, who couldn't afford renter's insurance.
One of the many things that makes me proud to live in Colorado Springs, CO, is that, even though the city has grown (In some cases irresponsible growth, but that's an issue for a Colorado Springs blog) to quadruple the size it was when we moved here 18 years ago, it has always had a small-town feel. People come together and help. We are a giving community and whatever and wherever the disaster; hurricanes, tsunamis, 9/11, earthquakes or whatever, there is always a radio station(s) or newspaper or TV station(s) or church (es) that will start a drive to take donations to help victims. There are always so many ways to offer help.
Janet, Margaret's sister, who is relatively new to the community, is not aware of all of this yet, so when a pair of high school age girls came to the door carrying a coffee can with a picture of a small child on it, the old softies, her and Grandma, gave them some money. They were told, "We're from Coronado High School Student Council and we're trying to raise donations for little four year old (Insert some name here) who lost everything in the Castle West fires," immediately their soft little old hearts were crushed. "That poor baby! No toys or clothes! Oh my! Oh my! Here. Here's some money. It's all we have, but you take it!" Thank goodness it wasn't payday.
Trusting souls. Gullible. They didn't ask where Coronado is (way over on the West side of town) or even to see their ID. She didn't know that this is not an acceptable way to raise funds in this town and on the rare occasions when it is done, children (and the parents who go with them) are instructed on how to identify themselves, etc. When Margaret heard about it she called Coronado to confirm what we both knew, that it was a scam. "This is not a normal way we do fundraisers." Neither Janet nor Grandma could give a reasonable description of the girls and so the matter was chalked up to experience and used to lecture on what to do in the future.
A week later Margaret happened to be working for Mrs. Neighbor-On-Top-Of-The-Hill when the doorbell rang and Margaret answered the door. Standing right there at the door were what turned out to be the same two smiling, cheerful young people. Well, one looked bright and cheerful and one seemed kind of worried and agitated and didn't say much.
"Hi there! We're from Coronado High School Student Council and we're trying to raise money to help 4 year old Little-So-And-So who lost everything in the Castle West fire."
"Coronado, you say? What are you doing over here?"
"Oh, we're going all over town."
"What's your name?" Worried girl looked even more nervous.
The girl gave her real name to Margaret and said she had just moved here from Alabama a week ago. Margaret, playing her cards close-to-the-vest as it were, did not openly question how she got elected to Student Council, then.
"How do I know you're from Coronado?"
The girl opened her jacket and proudly displayed a Coronado t-shirt.
"Uh-huh. Well, (girl's name goes here) I don't think so."
"But the people across the street are bagging up some toys right now."
"Um. No. You have to leave now."
The more you know Margaret, the more you will know that there are three things you must never, ever do. Don't ever lie to her, don't play her for a fool and don't try to harm someone she cares for, friend, relative or client.
I returned from my errand to pick her up at Mrs. Neighbor-On-Top-Of-The-Hill's house and there was steam rising from the top of her head, lightning flashing from her fingertips and fire shooting out of her eyeballs as she told me what had just happened. Mrs. Neighbor-On-Top-Of-The-Hill didn't want to call the cops herself as she feared someone returning to get her back.
"This little (long pause while she searched for an appropriate word) Girl-Who-Gave-Her-Real-Name thinks I'm stupid! How many people has she hit in the last week, like Janet and Grandma or Mrs. Neighbor-On-Top-Of-The-Hill? And then to tell me she moved here from Alabama a week ago and is on the Student Council of a high school that is not even around here? Mrs. Neighbor-On-Top-Of-The-Hill probably would have given her money, too, if she was able to answer the door and I wasn't there." Along with assorted other fumings, ventings and vituperations.
Margaret talked to Janet and verified the description of the two girls, and after a brief call was again placed to the principal at Coronado, who does NOT have any student with that last name at all (but did have a police officer standing there) a call was placed to the El Paso County Sheriff's Department. I don't recall the officer's name and don't want to go look for it, but it was a redheaded female officer I shall dub O'Toole. A very professional woman, but you could see why, even though she was professional, redheads and the Irish have a reputation for anger. Margaret told Officer O'Toole the whole story with Janet and Grandma verifying details.
"And you gave them money?"
"Um, yes."
"How much did you give them?"
"Four dollars." A collective "whew" went up all around. We hadn't known how much she had given them and were afraid to ask.
"Well, I'm going to check with the local schools and see if they have any students registered under this name." We knew at the time that the girl must be stupid, but not that she was stupid enough to give her exact real name.
We received a message a little later in the day, "Officer O'Toole calling. We have both girls in jail. Since your sister gave them money and they represented themselves as a charity that doesn't exist, they are charged with felony fraud, which automatically requires us to take them to jail. They confessed to everything. You and your sister will likely be asked to testify if the case goes to trial. Would you be willing to testify?"
Um. Yeah!
Remember, The Good Book says, "Thou shalt not steal." It also ought to say, "Don't mess with Margaret!"
P.S.
I haven't changed my mind about moving, but having received excellent advice from several sources I am taking my time on deciding. I appreciate everyone's help, thank you so much. Thank you, too, for stopping by and reading my stuff.
