April 22, 2010 a local Sneads Ferry resident girded his loins and decided that around 2 a.m. was a great time to kick in my front door.
Here’s how it played out, a crash rang through my house waking me and the wife up instantly. We woke up to pitch darkness and Mandy whispered, “It’s ok. The key rack near the front door just fell…” No sooner had those words left her lips than our stair light turned on…”…and hit the light switch,” she added. There was a rustling downstairs and the stair light turned on and off four or five times.
Pardon my the following language: “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, there’s someone in our house…it’s not the fucking key holder.”
I jumped up, threw on some jeans, grabbed my shotgun and jammed a handful of 12 gauge shells into my back pocket and dashed to the stairs.
Two things happened at this point; the jack-off realized he had the wrong house or he heard my shotty.
My shotgun is a break-action 12 gauge, when inserting a shell and closing the breech there is a quite audible, ‘business’ click.
When I got about two steps from the top of my stairs I heard the door slam and it was over…
The whole time I’m thinking I hope this guy doesn’t come back because I’m not excited about shooting someone in my living room with a 12 gauge…
He didn’t come back and we called 911. Sneads Ferry isn’t incorporated so we don’t have our own police, EMS or fire department. We’re at the mercy of the county sheriff’s response time. Fortunately for us the deputy was sitting at the Subway down the road and the North Topsail police officer was at the end of our road. They were there here in about three minutes.
They walked around the house and asked us what happened and I recounted the events that had transpired only 10 or 15 minutes prior. They checked out the door and we couldn’t find any visible footprints from it getting kicked in, or trauma to the door whatsoever. There weren’t any footprints or disturbances to anything in the yard. It was all very strange.
They called the CSI van out from Jacksonville, when it pulled up Grissom didn’t jump out with that hot, gap-toothed chick. Instead it was a short, stocky, flat-top wearing, groggy deputy who sauntered up to my house, spitting every couple of steps.
He got half-way up my walk and turned around and exclaimed to the other deputy, “See, you guys can’t do anything without me. Ha Ha Ha.”
I started poking around in the yard and front porch with his flashlight. He looked at the door-jam and the door.
“He definitely used something to flex the door before shouldering it in. Probably a screwdriver or something…” surmised the deputy.
He took some photos, using a yard stick for scale and got stuff to dust the light panel and door knob.
“This guy knew what he was doing, these prints are pretty small, probably your wife. I’m guessing he had gloves on…”
By about 4 a.m. everyone had cleared out and I was left with the task of screwing my door-jam back together in order to close and lock our door. It was ugly but from the outside you couldn’t tell someone had kicked it in.
A special thanks to my in-laws for letting us crash at their house that night and get some good sleep.
This event has opened my eyes to how vital it is for American’s to own weapons. I’m positive if I had a handgun they would’ve had a blood trail to follow, but because I had to grab shells and my shotty, that bastard got away. I’m soon to be the proud owner of a beautiful Sig Sauer P226.
So yeah…eventful week. Be safe out there. I’ll field any questions if you all have them.
Thanks for reading.