Sunday, October 17, 2010

This Mysterious Street with no Accountability

I had the scare of my life about a year and a half ago.    I always felt real comfortable walking the streets of Cambridge and not having a care in the world.  It's not that I had a pattern of walking the same route every night, but it was a late night at work and I wanted to catch up on an impending deadline.  So I did my usually walk this time deciding to walk down Brattle and up "Sparks".  I am always aware of my surroundings, so I was cognizant of every move, every snow flake and car passing by.  When I was about to proceed up Sparks I saw a man run out of his car and hide behind a fence in somebody's yard, so I  continued to walk up the street, which I felt  was my only option, because if I continued down Brattle, turned on Craigie, up Buckingham,  he could of followed me, because they were all one ways to my destination.

As I proceeded up Sparks the man jumped out of the gate and I said if you come near me, you are going to get your  $$#%$*@  head knocked-off.  So he stared at me and then looked back into the yard that he jumped out of , and I started walking backwards up Sparks with my cellphone, while calling the police.  What a waste of time calling the police I could of been assaulted or killed, because the response time was unacceptable. The police can be slow in their response,  especially if they are somewhere sleeping or harassing somebody for no apparent reason and another thing most of the Cambridge police are not from Cambridge and they have no idea of  where they are or how to get there. What Cantabrigian doesn't know "Henry Louis Gates".  This incident might of given me an opportunity of a Beer Summit with the President, had it been reported, we'll never know.

The police finally came after about 15 minutes after I fended off this nut and walking down Huron Ave. What is also so disturbing about the Cambridge Police is that they never took a report and to think a murder happend on the corner of Sparks and Brewster, some 20 years ago, it didn't seem to be significant or that important to take a police report from me.  All they asked me was what did he look like.  I said a white male, tall, glasses and about 45 years old, that didn't matter that he sort of fit the description of a man about 20 something lurking in the neighborhood the week Mary Jo Frug got murdered 20 something years ago.

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