I wasn't home when it happened. I was at work. Came home and noticed a light on upstairs and thought I'd accidentally left it on. Unlocked the front door, went in, and turned on the Christmas lights, shocked to find several presents torn open and thrown about. At first I thought a wild animal had gotten in and gone for the smell of the candles in the presents (Christmas cookies, chocolate chip cookies, etc.). Then I noticed a light in the kitchen and cautiously went out there and turned on the lights. The fridge door was open, some food laying out on the floor. Again I thought it was an animal that had gotten in somehow. Then I noticed cupboard doors open and the back door unlocked. I realized somebody'd been there and then began wondering if they were still there. Realizing there were three doors between me and the front door, I wasted no time in running back outside and calling 911 on my cell phone. While on the phone, I walked around to my back patio and saw the broken basement window where they'd gotten in. Two officers showed up. When I told them I hadn't checked the whole place out and didn't know if anybody was still inside, they had me wait behind the cruisers while they went in with guns drawn. It may look dramatic on COPS, but in real life, seeing cops go into your home with guns drawn is the scariest thing to see.persephone wrote:Yikes, Kevin! I hope everyone was OK and nothing taken! I have suffered break-ins too when I lived in Atlanta. It is the weirdest thing to walk around your house realizing some stranger -- or worse yet some fiend who might not want to just steal -- has been walking around your own home, poking into things. These guys could have taken jewelry or any other thing of value in the home (three peeps shared the home, so there was plenty there) but they went straight for my Technics turntables. Vintage 1200's. It was like being ... violated. Sorry to hear of your ordeal.KevinW wrote:A year ago, my home was broken into, and the five minutes I was on the phone with the police was the longest five minutes ever. I'm certain I was probably hysterical in trying to get info to the 911 operator.
A week before Christmas, the kid behind the nearly 30 burglaries in my neighborhood was arrested while breaking into another home. By how my stuff was gone through (in my closet, they took a Budweiser shirt out of the middle of about 30 T-shirts, so they took the time to be selective), I know there was at least one other person in my home. Turns out I'd seen him next door before at my neighbors' kids' parties (he was 20), and he lived a couple blocks away. Since gloves were not worn, finger prints (as well as shoe prints left in the styrofoam on my model reailroad layout in the basement where whoever came through the window stepped on it) linked him up to all of the crime scenes.
I lost about $2100 in DVDs, food, jewelry, clothing, and cameras/film. I've improved security as much as I can since I'm renting my townhouse. My insurance replaced most everything. Had a $500 coverage in my renter's insurance for jewelry, and my high school and college rings alone cost over $800 to get replaced. I'm working now on listing everything I own and trying to get pics of everything for if I would ever need it again in the future. I'm also still dealing with the memories of that night. I'm doing better than I have been in the past, but it still haunts me when I go into a room and remember how it looked that night.
What is really weird is that the day it happened, I was at work and suddenly had a feeling all day that something was wrong and that I shouldn't have been at work.