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Jewish World Review Dec. 27, 2010 / 20 Teves, 5771 I Was A Crime Fighter and Super Hero By Alan Douglas
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
Izzy was hurt. He had argued with his parents over the phone about changing his major. It cost a lot to keep him in school but he decided he didn't want to be a political science major. Sure, they had warned him about it, and changing majors would mean an additional semester to graduate, but did that justify not sending him a birthday card?
Morgan was mad. His father had started a new family after divorcing Morgan's mother, but he always sent a gift of some type to Morgan on special occasions. But for Morgan's upcoming graduation from college, only a cute congratulatory greeting card arrived. Morgan figured this was a clear sign that he was on his own. His old man was too busy spending his money on his trophy wife and new baby.
Izzy and Morgan were both wrong. The real cause of their problems was a sinister criminal conspiracy so dangerous, so cunning, that it could only be defeated by committing the full resources the United States government, the skill of federal law enforcement officers and …. Me.
The phone rang on my desk one afternoon and it was the Director of Campus Housing. As a lowly Administrative Assistant working in a college dormitory, it was my responsibility to keep the office open, keep schedules, report problems to maintenance, sort the mail, sign for deliveries, answer student questions, and refer students to the proper sources. Broken toilets, disputes in the television room, and complaints about the universe, composed the majority of my workload. The Director of Housing told me that a Mr. Baldwin (all names in this report have been changed to protect the innocent) would be calling me later that day and I was to cooperate fully with him. I expressed my thanks and gave the usual assurance that I would be ready, willing, and able with the same enthusiasm that enlisted military personnel, McDonald's team members, and administrative assistants the world over, have given for centuries. Baldwin called a few minutes later and scheduled to meet me in the dorm office after hours. Agent Baldwin, in his official conservative suit, with an official looking briefcase, flashed his enormous and very shiny badge. He was a federal field investigator, a United State Postal Inspector, sworn to uphold the law and catch bad guys, and he even had a gun. He explained that I would be working with him on a case, but I should not tell anyone. And so I became an undercover operative for a federal sting operation.
Agent Baldwin told me that birthday cards, Christmas cards, and other greeting cards sent to students at our college dormitories were being steamed open and the money or gift cards were being stolen. The United States Postal Inspectors had done surveillance in the post offices to check on those sorting the mail and spied on the letter carriers delivering the mail to the university. They concluded that the post office employees were "clean" and the thefts were being made in the university mail room. Our job was to find and arrest the offenders. We did not want to tip them off or cause a panic, so from now on Agent Baldwin instructed me that we would meet away from the dorm. The plan was a simple one. Baldwin gave me a list of names. The feds would send fake greeting cards containing cash that were addressed to fake students at my dorm. I would intercept the fake cards that came through and return them to Agent Baldwin. By sending different cards at different times they could make sure all the shift of mail room workers would have an opportunity to steal. The cash in the fake greeting cards was coated with an invisible powder that showed up under ultra violet light. Each night the agents would check the mail room employee time cards and areas with ultra violet light to see who had "touched" the missing cash until they could catch them.
For the next three weeks, Baldwin would call me and we would meet on street corners or in his car so I could hand in the cards and money. One time when we were in the car, Baldwin yelled, "Get Down" and I dove for the floorboards. There were no bullets, no car chase, just Agent Baldwin crouched beside me whispering, "I think one of the guys from the mailroom is across the street." I started to giggle. As the years pass I am tempted to tell this story saying I laughed or chortled, but the truth is I giggled. Baldwin straightened up a minute later and asked for the envelopes. Following a few more weeks of secret meetings Baldwin called to tell me they had apprehended two university mail room employees. Their time cards carried the tell-tale powder and they had some of the marked bills on them. He wished me well and reminded me that the university and agency wanted the investigation to remain confidential. I hope that Izzy, Morgan, and the other students who never received their cards and gifts eventually found out the truth, but as a junior G Man, crime fighter, I was sworn to secrecy, and never said a word, until now.
And then another fake greeting card arrived, and another, and another until I had about five fake cards. I called Baldwin to report this new development. "Case is closed. I guess there must have been a few cards still in process. Don't worry about it" Baldwin explained, adding, "Just throw them away." After three more weeks I had fifteen more fake cards with money. "I told you the case is closed" Baldwin said with noticeable irritation. "Do whatever you want with it, the case is closed".
And that is how one Friday afternoon I became a super hero, when our dormitory hosted a free TGIF Pizza Party for all our students. The guy delivering the pizza was puzzled when I paid him in cash, wearing gloves. I can honestly say that I did not touch any of that money. At the party I wanted to put up one of those signs you see posted at highway construction sites that read: Your taxpayer dollars at work . But I was sworn to secrecy.
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JWR contributor Alan Douglas, an author, media executive, speaker, and attorney, lives con brio- except when he is grumpy.
Comforting with Sympathizing
© 2010 Alan Douglas
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