Sandy Supposes....

I've Been Arrested...

PROMPT: Fun Fact Friday! On this day in 1903, Barney Gilmore of St. Louis, Missouri was arrested for spitting. What's one of the dumbest things you've ever gotten in trouble for?

          This must have been a slow news day back in good ol' 1903. So, someone spat, oh horrors, oh shudder. I wonder if Mr. Gilmore was a serial spitter? Did this weather the passage of time because he was a repeat offender? Maybe part of the original tale is missing like who did he spit on? Where did he spit? Hmmm, is there a medical condition that causes one to spit spontaneously and uncontrollably in public? I can imagine his epitaph. Here lies the St. Louis Spitter. He's spit his last spat. If you must, feel free to spit on his grave.

          I'm not in Barney's league. I've never deigned to spit, but I will confess that I've been arrested. It was not something to spit at, although it brought to mind my mother's expression, "I'm so angry I could spit nails." And so my tale of woe unfolds...

         Yes, I did a dumb thing, but hindsight beckons a bit too late. One afternoon, when my eldest daughter was twelve, she burst in the door shaking and crying. Amidst sobs, she explained that she'd been attacked in the nearby park by three girls she'd never met before. Within minutes, I'd hustled the two of us over to that parcel of land intent on confronting the bullies. What was I thinking? The answer is I wasn't. I just believed that this was not an incident to ignore, no turning of the other cheek.

         The culprits were easy to spot. They were lingering, and bullying other kids. I approached them. I gave them a piece of my mind. We returned home. Within twenty minutes, I heard a knock at my front door, and I opened it to see a police officer. He asked if I'd been at the park, and if I'd spoken with "three young ladies." He then proceeded to inform me that those girls had filed an assault charge against me, and I was under arrest.

         I was spared the indignity of being hauled away in hand cuffs. I was handed an order to present myself to the local station the next morning for processing. At that time, I was photographed, finger-printed, and released on my own recognisance. Then I needed an attorney...

         The real injustice was that I had no idea as to the identity of my accusers, but I made an attempt to find out. I traced them to a nearby Catholic school where the principal admitted to knowing the students in question. He apologized and said that he could not reveal their names, but he did admit they had a reputation as bullies and trouble makers.

         I wasn't worried about the possibility of a trial, in fact I relished my day in court to defend myself. I had not assaulted the girls. I had not touched them. They were striking presumptively. I knew there were a parkful of witnesses to corroborate my innocence. The girls had learned my name and my address from others at that park. I had a reputation as the local school volunteer, the local Home Care worker, the local babysitter, and a local Girl Guide Leader. I was not anonymous, but they were. All of this, and I still was forced to hire an attorney.

         Waiting outside the courtroom for the first segment of the trial, those three girls sauntered up to me, and threatened me. I wasn't frightened. Then a strange man I'd never set eyes on also promised I'd live to regret this. They were quite the bunch. Anyway, we all sat for hours only to hear our trial had been adjourned to a different date.

         On the day of the trial, the girls and their male counterpart failed to appear. Hmmm, suddenly their accusations weren't important to them. They'd tired of their complaints. The case was dismissed.

         So, yes, my impulsive stunt cost me. It incurred legal fees. The attorney came out ahead. Was what I did dumb? That's debatable. I'd like to believe that I taught my daughter to stand up for herself.