Today is April 27, 2004. It is Tuesday morning. My cell phone alarm is going off in my ear painfully reminding me that I have to get out of bed and go to the dentist. It is 6:30 AM. I can see sunlight outside as I hear my little brothers scrambling to get ready to go to school. I hit the snooze on my phone and catch 5 more minutes of Zs. One of my brothers busts into my bed room to use the ironing board unaware that I was still sleeping. I decided to roll out of bed and jump in the shower at that point. I carefully brushed and flossed my teeth like I always do before going to the dentist. It helps eliminate morning breath and hopefully fools them into thinking I’m the best damn dentist patient there is. They seem to humour me despite reminding me to floss more often.
After packing my suitcase back up I went out to my car to get ready to leave. I sat down in the driver’s seat, closed the door, put the key in the igntion and turned it all the way. My automatic seatbelt slid into place with a click. The engine started to turn over and the car started to gently vibrate. Something was wrong. The car wouldn’t start. I tried again thinking it was a random quirk. The engine turns but still does not start. I have a full tank of gas, a charged battery, and no clue.
I run back in the house to call and cancel my dentist appointment and to let my job know I will not be making it in if I can’t get my car running. This has never happened before.
My dog Bongo stretches and gets up to beg for some petting. I humour him and scratch behind his ears. He smiles his goofy grin while letting out an approving grumble.
I recruit one of my brothers to help and try push starting my car. We positioned it at the top of the hill that is our driveway and let er’ rip. I had enough speed and time to try 3 clutch pops. Still nothing! We rolled the car to the side and out of the way. Time for plan B. Tow truck.
We went back into the house where I saw my brothers off to school. I spent the next couple of hours digging through my fix-it-yourself book and the engine on my 91 Honda Accord. I couldn’t find anything. I called up AAA and awaited their arrival.
Back inside the house I got on the computer to help out with work related email and give an update on the car to my coworkers. My mom made me breakfast so we ate together. Bongo sat anxiously next to me hoping I would throw some sausage his way. I got back on the computer to keep up the communications with work and answer whatever emails I could. As I got more submerged into the computer, my mom began to vaccuum. The doorbell rings. It’s 1PM, the tow truck is right on time. Bongo gets excited and runs to the door, tail wagging, barking enthusiastically. Who’s here? I open the door and uselessly try to keep Bongo inside the house. He darts out and starts sniffing the driver like he does to every visitor that shows up. Friend or foe, Bongo loves to sniff and say hi. He is the sweetest dog in the world. We push my car in alignment with the back of the tow truck. The driver gets in the truck, pushses some buttons and the front end of my car is locked in and suddenly raised 4 feet in the air. Neat trick. That’s one of the easiest tow truck jobs I’ve seen yet. I give the driver the car key and instructions to take the car to a garage in Madison to get it checked out.
As the tow truck leaves I race Bongo back into the house. He won. I get back on the computer to check my email and play with my new blogging site. Bongo lies at my feet and looks up grinning at me the whole time. My mom says goodbye to go hang out with her girlfriends and have tea and do whatever it is girls do during their secret daytime meetings.
Bongo and I sit at the computer for a while. At about 1:45PM we both heard the front door make a noise. Bongo was still lying at my feet calmly waiting for me to get up. Because our door does not always shut all the way I assumed it to be the wind blowing the door slightly ajar. With 7 family members that go in and out of the house, the door is commonly left to the wind. It takes a little elbow grease to get that door to shut. Thinking nothing of it, I decided it was a great time to go outside to play with Bongo. Little did I know what was waiting on the other side of the door.
I open the main door on my left and step out to watch Bongo run off before I chase after him. This time something was wrong. As I look to my right, I notice a young police officer standing there. I froze up with fear noticing his gun drawn aimed in my direction. He was looking away from t he house at who know’s what despite his gun being aimed in my direction. Before I could do anything, Bongo ran out from behind me towards the officer like he always does with visitors. Like I said, Bongo loves people regardless of who it may be.
A shot rang out in the silence causing time to grind to a snails pace. The bullet hits the ground 3 feet in front of me. As chunks of the driveway spray in my face I jump back into the house screaming at the cop to stop shooting. A second shot goes off, also missing me and my dog hitting the driveway somewhere else. Bongo starts to try and change directions but the rookie officer is too scared to be rational and fires off two more shots. One of the shots connects fatally with Bong’s neck and lodges in his spine. I’m not sure exactly how many shots were fired, but it may have been 4 or 5.
I look in horror to see a hole in Bongo’s right ear before he collapses to the ground about 8 feet from the officer. Crying histerically I run out to Bongo to try and comfort him. His eyes do not focus, he is not breathing. Blood flows out from somewhere underneath him onto my hands. Amidst my teers and rage I try to quietly talk to Bongo. I suddently realize the officer still has his gun drawn and pointed at me. He is demanding that I back away from my dog. I do as this maniac asks in fear of being shot myself.
The officer asked me if I knew why they were there. I answered no. NO! Why the hell were they here!? Why were their guns drawn, what the fuck made them shoot my dog!? The officer told me that a burglar alarm had gone off and they were responding to the call. I told him I was confused because I was unaware of any security system at my parents house - and why would it be armed if I have been home since 11PM the previous night?! A second officer appeared out of nowhere armed with a rifle. Squad cars had filled the driveway at this point. He asked me the same questions and told me the same story. I again told them I didn’t know we had an alarm system. My dog slightly twitches behind them alone. This information was relayed over the radio. With horror I overheard the police say that they had the wrong address. THE WRONG ADDRESS! They weren’t even supposed to be here, let alone have their guns drawn, let alone SHOOT THEIR GUNS at innocent people! The rifle bearing officer demanded my ID. As he went to run a background check, I go back to helplessly lay my hands on Bongo. He is not breathing or moving at all. Bongo was dead.
There are no words or actions that can comfort me at this point. I wanted to rip that officer’s head off. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him off the force. I wanted to know why the hell they were here. I wanted Bongo back.
I will not divuldge the rest of the details of today, but it involved painfully letting each of my family members know about the tragedy that was today. Watching each of their hearts break and reliving the story each time is too painful.
Today is April 27, 2004. Today is my brother’s 17th birthday.
