... an encounter with the fuzz...
July 5, 1996: Phone rings - 6:05AM - "Officer Dragnet" is calling: "Ma'am, we are calling to tell you the police are on their way to your son's residence. This alarm has gone off."
Being ignorant of the proper procedure I suggested he call my son. Officer Dragnet reiterates in his unflappable voice, "The police are on their way, Ma'am. Will you please call your son and tell them the police are on their way." I was hoping to sleep a little later this morning, no appointments until 2PM.
"Ma'am, will you please call your son and tell him that the police are on their way?" (Is this a question or an answer?) I, not being "hep" suggested that he call my son. Without a flicker of a change in his voice, he repeats, "Ma'am, will you please call your son and tell him, the police are on the way."
I did as I was told, and woke my son up to deliver Officer Dragnet's message. Frank said that Samantha was home, and the he would call me back. Next, Officer Dragnet called again to inform me,"The police have arrived. The basement door was found to be open. They covered the first floor of the residence. Nothing has been disturbed."
I asked if they had searched the three floors. He answered in his immovable voice, "Ma'am, they found everything OK on the first floor."
"But my granddaughter is on the third floor. Will you please check upstairs?" His answer: "Ma'am, the police investigated the first floor, everything OK. The cellar door needs a new lock."
7:30AM. My son just called. He has reached Samantha. She and Nancy are roller skating this morning. The alarm was in an incorrect mode (or mood). So much for modern gadgets. And I was intending to sleep later than 6AM.