Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Feeling useless at a crime scene

So here's the short version: Teenage girl, presumably home for the summer from college, gets robbed at knifepoint in a study room in Glastonbury's library this afternoon.

I got involved when the girl came running into the study room I was in (right next to hers) and, frantically and hysterically, screams that a guy walked into her study room and, after pulling a knife on her, demanded money and anything else she had that was worth money.

This is not the kind of thing one would expect on an otherwise calm late afternoon in an affluent Connecticut suburb.

After the girl came to me, she led me toward the front door, as if in pursuit of the thief. He stole her laptop, cellphone and some cash. Although she did not get physically hurt, the girl had suffered emotional damage, and you could tell this was the kind of thing that could possibly generate nightmares and issues with being alone down the line.

Here's how the girl explained it to me: The guy, who fit the description of the guy who was in the study room I was in before I arrived (I had to kick him out because he didn't sign out the room), knocked on her door and asked for change for a dollar. She proceeded to look for the money when he came into the small room (about five feet by eight feet), turned the lights off, pulled a knife, and demanded her money and anything else of value. She ended up giving him her laptop (you could tell it was prized and done probably with some hesitation), cellphone, and cash. He told her to turn around before he opened the door, then he left.

After that, she came to my study room, where I was tutoring, and just fell apart.

You want to think that you can be of some help in cases like this, times when you are called upon in emergencies and stressful circumstances, to truly provide assistance. I was able to help the girl communicate to the librarians to call 911 after explaining what had happened. But the poor kid. She was not just in shock from having a knife pulled on her (the last thing she probably thought would happen while studying for Organic Chemistry - I saw the books and chemical formulas spread across her desk), but then she lost her personal possessions.

In the end, I was of minimal help - the case was in the police's hands within 10 minutes. As they began to question her, I felt that even they were of limited help at that point. Ten minutes had passed; the crook was miles away. The damage was done. Today will be a horrible memory for her for a long time.

I have to say, as a witness to the aftermath, both library staff and police seemed to respond slowly. Perhaps it was me, being caught up in what had happened, my adrenaline was certainly flowing, but the librarians barely moved after she explained what happened. They did little to console the girl. Police talked with the girl for a while, but they spent more time walking around the library, slowly, aimlessly, than anything else. I understand they thought the guy could have still been in the library, but a witness who saw the guy leaving contradicted that. For half an hour, the cops walked around, seemingly doing nothing. Perhaps they felt useless, too.

I would have expected a little more assertion on their part. A young girl was robbed at knifepoint in the center of Glastonbury in the library! Are you kidding me!

I checked in with the girl a couple of times, asking her if she needed anything, or if I could do anything for her - her parents couldn't be reached when she first tried to call them - but I knew when I asked that, as essentially a complete stranger, my efforts to help were exhausted. She didn't come to know my name; I didn't know hers. I was just the first person she talked to after being threatened with a knife. It was the strange sort of life experience where you feel personally involved with someone one minute, and then you'll probably never interact with them again.