I owe someone some thanks. And I have no easy way of reaching them. But what the heck – we’ll try it the hard way:
Last night, I woke up to a knock on my door at 11PM.
After a quarter-century of living in the Midway, I know that there’s no such thing as a good knock on the door after dark – so I took, er, the necessary precautions, and went to the door.
A young woman identifying herself as “Shelby” told me she’d seen a car run into my daughter’s car, which was parked out on the street, and then drive off. She got the license number, called the police, left a note under my daughter’s windshield wiper…and then came and knocked on the door.
First, let me say two things; it takes guts to walk up to a stranger’s door at all, much less in the middle of the night, much less when you’re a (near as I could tell) 5’3, 120 pound woman.
Second thing? I’m happy I live in a neighborhood where people feel they can walk up to a stranger’s door and knock in the middle of the night.
But I digress.
It was miserably cold last night, and I wasn’t in a state to let anyone in, #ifyacatchmydrift, but she basically told me everything I needed to call the police and the insurance company to get things taken care of.
To my astonishment, the cops actually found the car, and the driver – a woman from up north somewhere who was apparently lost and claimed not to have known she’d hit someone. I can find no record that charges were filed – the woman wasn’t drunk, according to the officer I talked with. I’m going to guess she was texting and didn’t see a black car on a dark street. That’s just a guess.
Thankfully, at least both parties are insured.
Anyway – I don’t know who you are, Shelby, and I hope you’ll forgive my less than stellar late-night hospitality, but I thank you for all you did last night.
And if someone out there in the Midway knows Ms. Shelby (twentysomething, African-American, probably 5’3, possibly a Hamline student), it’d make my day if you could pass on my thanks!
I had a similar experience a couple of years ago, but not late at night.
I was at a Caribou Coffee joint off of 62 and Shady Oak Rd. meeting with a networking group at about 8:30. About 30 minutes later, a women came in asking people who owned the car. She was the manager of a hair salon in that strip center and happened to be looking out the window when she observed a man in a pick up with a drop down hitch back into my front bumper, punching through it and my windshield washer tank.
She got his license number, a description of both the driver and the truck and had already called the Minnetonka police.
The police reached the driver by phone and he proclaimed that he didn’t realize that he hit me. He called me that evening and arranged for payment for the damage and all turned out well.
Needless to say, I was very greatful that Michelle got involved and had the chance to thank her by getting my hair cut and (despite her adamant protest that she was only doing what she hoped would do for her), giving her a large tip.
Did ya send a note to the Pioneer Press? That might be in order if you haven’t already.