Henderson, 2007
Five years ago, I was a private individual, a father of two kids, a husband to a wonderful woman married for fifteen years. I was and am a salesman and about as ordinary as they get. I drive a twelve-year-old Chrysler and I pay my taxes regularly and otherwise lived an ordinary life.
My life changed permanently one day, and it can never be the same again. You see, I discovered in a moment, like a bolt-out-of-the-blue, that I am a Citizen and that I have responsibilities to help deliver the outcomes that I expect from the Society that I live in.
Five years ago, I was minding my own business in New Zealand, driving between Client sites and listening to the radio. The news was running, and top of the news was the discovery of a P-Methamphetamine lab — a huge one — right across the street from where my wife teaches music part-time. Luckily, the cops busted the lab before it could explode. Had it exploded, it would have taken out the school and possibly killed people in it. Including my wife and kids.
I was badly shaken.
A few days later, the cops busted a P-Methamphetamine lab just down the street from where I live. It, too, was huge. And a bit too close to home. And so I got angry. Really angry: pig-biting mad.
I picked up the phone and was about to call our Mayor, Bob Harvey. Because that is what Citizens tend to do when they get upset.
But I never made the call. Somehow, in midair, I came to a realization. It was an epiphany. The Mayor was doing his best to curb Crime in our community, and so were his Councilors. Our Police were doing their best: they had, after all, busted two labs within a few days. And even our Government was doing its best with my money, and if I wanted them to do better they would surely oblige, by raising my taxes.
The person who wasn’t doing their best was me: the average Joe Citizen.
I recalled an interview with Barbara Walters, back in 1983, with a guy named Curtis Sliwa of the Guardian Angels, and I remembered being impressed by the vision that he had: ordinary Citizens taking responsibility and cleaning up their neighborhoods. So I hopped onto the Web to see if the Guardian Angels organization was still around. And lo! It was!
I made my phone call, but this time to New York City. And thus began the most amazing journey of my life.
Folks, you do not need to tolerate crime in your community. Crime is entirely optional. The criminals took over bit by bit, piece by piece, because we let them. We listened to the siren’s call of “don’t get involved”. We listened to the advice of the experts to “call 911 and let the police handle things. Don’t get involved or you could get hurt.” And in this process our give-a-dam’n got busted.
Your neighborhoods can be taken back incrementally, too: bit by bit, piece by piece.
I am not Bruce Lee, and I am not Chuck Norris. I am an ordinary guy, fat and overweight. About as average a Citizen as we can get. But my journey with the Guardian Angels has been a life-transforming event.
The day came for me to launch my Chapter, having taken my training by e-mail and correspondence: it is a long swim from NYC to Auckland and so there was nobody who could easily train me — I had to do it on my own — and many a midnite hour was spent reading The Manual.
At last I was ready to go.
My press release was loaded into the fax machine, with all the media outlets programmed in. And my hand couldn’t quite press the green “GO” button: it was an irreversable step. From that day forward, my life would change permanently if I hit the “Go” button. I was about to become the New Zealand National Spokesman for an organization formed in the Bronx in 1979…
…and then I remembered what had happened that day. I had been in Taupo on business, about a hundred miles away from my family. My wife and two kids had been driving thru Henderson to do some shopping. And a nut, probably strung out on P-Methamphetamine, had gone into my friend’s sporting goods store, carved up my friend giving him serious injuries, and run outside and stabbed an old-age pensioner to death. Right in front of my wife and kids while she sat waiting for the traffic lites in her little van. The cops had attended, and one officer had shot this crook several times with a Glock. And he still kept coming. Finally, a heroic parking warden crash-tackled the guy to the ground…
…all of this in front of my wife, who was talking to me on the cellphone, terrified, giving me a blow-by-blow account of what was going on.
I had never felt so helpless in all my life!
And so, naturally, I closed my eyes and hit the “Go” button on the fax machine. Never again would I be powerless against criminals. Never again would I want to feel like I did that day, in Taupo, on the end of a phone desperately wanting to be able to do *something* and being physically unable to do anything.
Two years on from our launch, we opened our second Chapter. The Lads have stopped two knifings, two riots, one kidnapping, multiple domestic disputes, and multiple drug deals. We have resussitated multiple street people and prevented two beatings. We have cleaned up our neighborhood.
The first time you save someone’s life, it is addictive. Better than any drug, better than any opiate.
And we have only used force once.
Folks, you do not need to tolerate crime in your neighborhood. Get involved!
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This entry was posted on February 15, 2010 at 06:43 and is filed under Guardian Angels, Public Safety, Social commentary, Volunteerism. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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Where Angels Dare to Tread
Henderson, 2007
Five years ago, I was a private individual, a father of two kids, a husband to a wonderful woman married for fifteen years. I was and am a salesman and about as ordinary as they get. I drive a twelve-year-old Chrysler and I pay my taxes regularly and otherwise lived an ordinary life.
My life changed permanently one day, and it can never be the same again. You see, I discovered in a moment, like a bolt-out-of-the-blue, that I am a Citizen and that I have responsibilities to help deliver the outcomes that I expect from the Society that I live in.
Five years ago, I was minding my own business in New Zealand, driving between Client sites and listening to the radio. The news was running, and top of the news was the discovery of a P-Methamphetamine lab — a huge one — right across the street from where my wife teaches music part-time. Luckily, the cops busted the lab before it could explode. Had it exploded, it would have taken out the school and possibly killed people in it. Including my wife and kids.
I was badly shaken.
A few days later, the cops busted a P-Methamphetamine lab just down the street from where I live. It, too, was huge. And a bit too close to home. And so I got angry. Really angry: pig-biting mad.
I picked up the phone and was about to call our Mayor, Bob Harvey. Because that is what Citizens tend to do when they get upset.
But I never made the call. Somehow, in midair, I came to a realization. It was an epiphany. The Mayor was doing his best to curb Crime in our community, and so were his Councilors. Our Police were doing their best: they had, after all, busted two labs within a few days. And even our Government was doing its best with my money, and if I wanted them to do better they would surely oblige, by raising my taxes.
The person who wasn’t doing their best was me: the average Joe Citizen.
I recalled an interview with Barbara Walters, back in 1983, with a guy named Curtis Sliwa of the Guardian Angels, and I remembered being impressed by the vision that he had: ordinary Citizens taking responsibility and cleaning up their neighborhoods. So I hopped onto the Web to see if the Guardian Angels organization was still around. And lo! It was!
I made my phone call, but this time to New York City. And thus began the most amazing journey of my life.
Folks, you do not need to tolerate crime in your community. Crime is entirely optional. The criminals took over bit by bit, piece by piece, because we let them. We listened to the siren’s call of “don’t get involved”. We listened to the advice of the experts to “call 911 and let the police handle things. Don’t get involved or you could get hurt.” And in this process our give-a-dam’n got busted.
Your neighborhoods can be taken back incrementally, too: bit by bit, piece by piece.
I am not Bruce Lee, and I am not Chuck Norris. I am an ordinary guy, fat and overweight. About as average a Citizen as we can get. But my journey with the Guardian Angels has been a life-transforming event.
The day came for me to launch my Chapter, having taken my training by e-mail and correspondence: it is a long swim from NYC to Auckland and so there was nobody who could easily train me — I had to do it on my own — and many a midnite hour was spent reading The Manual.
At last I was ready to go.
My press release was loaded into the fax machine, with all the media outlets programmed in. And my hand couldn’t quite press the green “GO” button: it was an irreversable step. From that day forward, my life would change permanently if I hit the “Go” button. I was about to become the New Zealand National Spokesman for an organization formed in the Bronx in 1979…
…and then I remembered what had happened that day. I had been in Taupo on business, about a hundred miles away from my family. My wife and two kids had been driving thru Henderson to do some shopping. And a nut, probably strung out on P-Methamphetamine, had gone into my friend’s sporting goods store, carved up my friend giving him serious injuries, and run outside and stabbed an old-age pensioner to death. Right in front of my wife and kids while she sat waiting for the traffic lites in her little van. The cops had attended, and one officer had shot this crook several times with a Glock. And he still kept coming. Finally, a heroic parking warden crash-tackled the guy to the ground…
…all of this in front of my wife, who was talking to me on the cellphone, terrified, giving me a blow-by-blow account of what was going on.
I had never felt so helpless in all my life!
And so, naturally, I closed my eyes and hit the “Go” button on the fax machine. Never again would I be powerless against criminals. Never again would I want to feel like I did that day, in Taupo, on the end of a phone desperately wanting to be able to do *something* and being physically unable to do anything.
Two years on from our launch, we opened our second Chapter. The Lads have stopped two knifings, two riots, one kidnapping, multiple domestic disputes, and multiple drug deals. We have resussitated multiple street people and prevented two beatings. We have cleaned up our neighborhood.
The first time you save someone’s life, it is addictive. Better than any drug, better than any opiate.
And we have only used force once.
Folks, you do not need to tolerate crime in your neighborhood. Get involved!
Like this:
This entry was posted on February 15, 2010 at 06:43 and is filed under Guardian Angels, Public Safety, Social commentary, Volunteerism. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.