Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Just wait until I get you home!

Boy, oh boy. I'd never laugh at another person's misfortune, but the kids who dodged a bullet yesterday in Glendale might benefit from the humiliation they suffered for their recklessness.

Much better than the trauma they might have suffered had things ended with a more tragic turn.

About seven kids were crossing the railroad tracks to play over in an empty industrial/warehouse property. Six kids made it across the tracks with no problems.

One of the kids was hit by a train.

The kid is okay. He only suffered cuts and bruises. I felt pretty down heading out to scene. These are the types of accidents that usually end in a fatality. I was relieved to find out things didn't end with a dead kid.

The kids were lucky. Well, for the most part.

They were all cited for trespassing and held at the scene until their parents could come and pick them up. You can probably imagine how the parents felt getting that phone call.

This is where it really got good.

Sure, it was a bad enough that a kid got hurt, but the terrible thing that almost happened is almost too horrific to imagine. That's the kind of thoughts the parents must have been having as they drove out to claim their offspring.

Four sets of parents came out and a couple of them were nearly homicidal in their anger at their kids. One parent took out his frustration on a skateboard.

I hope nobody was so angry they might actually hurt one of the kids, but you could see the fire was in their eyes. It may have been just talk, but one parent told us his kid was lucky the cops were there.

I'm not really laughing at them. I'm just remembering what it was like to be that age. I don't know anybody who didn't do similar (or worse) as a kid. As I watched the tearful youths being marched away by their angry parents, I had one thought.

I sure wouldn't want to be in their shoes when they got home.

Dang, phone call from the station. I'm heading in to help cover a missing hiker story. Anyone who wants to compare notes on their misspent youth, I'll check in later.


freakangel said...

There is nothing quite like that sinking feeling. Knowing you've been caught red-handed doing something wrong.

In college I snuck out of the dorm to go meet up with a guy I was seeing. I tripped down a flight of stairs and ended up breaking a bone in my foot (sexy, I know).

After an excrutiatingly painful night at the guys apartment (he never called me again), I had to walk the three miles back to my dorm on my swollen, broken, foot.

Boy, did I have the time to think about what a stupid idea that had been. And I couldn't call and ask anyone for help because then I would have had to admit where I had been. My mom never suspected a thing when she brought me to the doctors, and I never told her. Knowing you'll get in trouble has a funny way of helping you endure a lot of pain!

turdpolisher said...

Tortured cats. Flourescent paint, a black light and a frog.

The worst beating I ever got was for locking the neighborhood spinster in her bathroom. She was too cheap for indoor plumbing...No hick jokes please. Every time she poked her head out of the outhouse, I slung a mud clod at the door with my sling-shot.

Sometimes I still feel it

beFrank said...

freakangel - That's funny, but it still sounds like you got away with it.

turdpolisher - Strong memories of getting caught (and the repercussions) are part of what keeps me honest today. There's a fine line between discipline and child abuse.

I'm not entirely sure my folks didn't cross it.

freakangel said...

One of the only times I ever did. My dad ruled with an iron fist. Once when caught skipping school, he grounded me for six months, from everything, phone, tv, computer, music, going out, having friends over. Believe me, I never tried it again.