Barry was in his office, and I was in the living room. Sound familiar? We both heard a HUGE thud.
I called from the couch, "Barry, are you okay?"
He replied, "I thought that was you."
Notice I did not say either of us ran immediately to check on the other. I actually thought something had fallen off a shelf in the garage, so our search began there.
Then we stepped outside. Our mailbox was lying on its side about four feet from its original spot. Intact as far as we can tell.
Car parts were distributed all over the flowerbed.
Car tracks were in our flowerbed and our neighbors yard.
Barry and Trey (our neighbor) followed the tracks in the street and found the hit and run driver a few blocks away.
I called the police.
Since this is not a major crime, like putting your registration stickers on the wrong automobiles, no ticket was issued. According to the police, if someone is in their house when the police get there, they can't do anything. (surely I missed something in that statement from the policeman)
My nephew, Joe, said this is good to know if you want to commit a crime. Note to Joe: Don't admit to the crime, leave no evidence, and you may be correct in the assumption that you will get away with it.
This young man did fess up. Barry said he seemed a little strange, but forthcoming with all his information. Now that we have seen the crash in the daylight, we fear he may have hit his head and maybe that is why he seemed strange or maybe not.
We did not initially think it was car wreck because there was no screeching of tires. It appears, he was going too fast, hit the mailbox full speed, mailbox flew head over end, and THUD, hit the ground.
Of course, Barry made a comment at the end of the evening last night that made me laugh. He said, "The mail carrier is going to have to deliver the mail in a go-cart."
Tonight, Barry spoke with the teen's mother. She knew nothing about this being a hit and run. She knew nothing about where the accident took place. She knew nothing. Barry told her she should have the young man checked by a doctor if he hit his head, because it had to be quite a blow. There were other things that he wanted to tell her, but he bit his tongue. How could a mother see this kind of damage on a truck and not ask questions?
This is where blogging gets hard. I don't feel it is the place of this blog to give unsolicited advice. It may creep in at times. However, if you would like to comment on how you would handle this as a parent, feel free. If you want my opinion, Barry's opinion, or you are a child of mine, and want to guess our opinion, be our guest.