How are you doing? You rode your bike away afterward, so not too bad, right?
I think shock must have helped me ride away. I sure couldn't come close to riding now. Standing up it a real challenge. Walking hurts.
I foolishly didn't take pain meds last night (I guess I want to be tough.) I couldn't get out of my chair. I am amazed how much I hurt. Here's a photo of my bloody knee (as link rather than embedded image so you can skip it.) My cracked rib isn't as visually dramatic, but it's what causes the most pain. It seems almost every movement we humans make connects to our core, and involves that area.
We all know the definition of "minor injury" is an injury that happens to someone else. I'm sure legally I'm "minor." But it happened to me, so it sure doesn't feel minor. It's difficult to predict the future, but I'm worried about the start of the Los Medanos College semester in two weeks, and wondering how I'll negotiate all that entails.
How am I doing? I wouldn't call it "OK." But I could be a lot worse.
Why didn't you get a better description?
It was all so fast. I rode almost past the two people, seeing only their backs. I could feel, or see in my peripheral vision an explosive move toward me, then boom, I was on the ground, and hurting. All my memories from this point are disjointed and blurred, like an action sequence in a bad movie. I remember them yelling "Where's your wallet," waving a gun, and reaching into my jersey pocket to grab my phone. I have a flash of a shiny gun, and — this makes no sense — the other person holding, perhaps fumbling, with a hand full of bullets. The next thing I remember was them quickly moving away across the Turner School field, glancing over their shoulders.
I'm not military, nor do I have police training. My athletic-processor brain just isn't that quick (ask my tennis partners) and I wasn't expecting it. I just didn't see much, and I processed even less.
I did get a crime-stopper tip that I hope you'll never need: Note the shoes. People change shirts and jackets when running away, but not shoes. Alas, I remember no shoes.
Why didn't you track your phone?
I tried. As soon as I'd ridden to the hair salon where I called the police and Tricia, I used my laptop, their wi-fi and iCloud to "Find my iPhone." The bad guys had turned it off. It can't work with the phone off. I tried many times throughout the day, but never got a signal.
iCloud has a feature you can set that issues a command to wipe (delete all data) on the phone next time it connects to the internet, which pretty much means next time it's turned on. I used that feature. I also set it to display "Please return to Los Medanos College Police Services." In theory that's all it can do now. At around 1 A.M. I got an email informing me my phone was being erased. The date time on the message says 4:16. I'm not sure if that's PST or Eastern, or if it matters.
My phone also had a long password, so I'm reasonably sure my data isn't compromised.
Perhaps I should have used the "lost phone" feature that merely locks the phone and displays a message I could choose. It also would have reported the phone location to me. But I was still in a bit of shock, and was thinking it was more important I do what I could to not let any data fall into the wrong hands. And, really, are the police going to come screaming down upon some location I give them? I certainly wasn't going to go there and ask for my phone back.
My phone was insured, and a new one is on the way. I had a large deductible and need a new protective case, so I am out a bit of money.
I was surprised how smoothly dealing with Sprint, my cell carrier, was. The woman I spoke with was kind, sympathetic and made the process easy. The insurance part was a simple web page. Perhaps that's really all bad news in that so many phones are stolen they have the process down.
Are you going to keep riding your bike, and riding this trail?
I'm telling myself this isn't a good time to make decisions. Sure, I'll ride as soon as I can. How I'll commute, I just don't know. There really aren't any good alternate routes. And, ironically, in the last two weeks Los Medanos College installed a very nice paved connector between the trail and campus. I'd been advocating for his path for years. Can I really not use it? I don't know what I'll do. I'm postponing decision making.
Could you have prevented this? Can you be more safe?
I've asked myself this again and again. I don't know. Do I reverse course whenever I see two young men if I'm alone? Is that practical? How unsafe is this area? Am I riding through a truly dangerous area every day? I just do not know.
I know that if I'd had pepper spray, a baton or a Taser it wouldn't have helped. They'd likely have taken it away and used it on me. And heck, they had a gun. A GUN! That's option-limiting. I'm not a quick-draw artist. If I had a gun I'd have to ride with it in my hand to be ready. What could possibly go wrong? A gun just does not seem practical, or even a remotely good idea.
People have been so nice to me. And even though I'm a grumpy old guy, having my friends, relatives, and even people I don't know, reach out with a kind word, a short email, or a Facebook comment has made a me feel so much better. I really enjoyed the Editable Arrangement from Jaime and Ganesh. The fruit was good, and I used the helium to make my voice sound like a chipmunk. Tricia's taking good care of me, and even my kids Erin and Eddie came over to visit.
My questions about crime and life in general
Has Antioch come to the point where a 61 year old professor can be assaulted, injured, held up at gunpoint and it's just business as usual? I don't expect the PD to conduct a house to house search. Heck, I don't know what I'd like done. But the apparent fact that this is not a big deal at all makes me sad. That means it's not news. It's something that happens all the time. And that frightens me.
There's an old story that goes "How do you boil a frog?" The answer is that you start with cool water and then slowly turn up the heat. The frog doesn't notice until it's too late and can't get out. (Apparently this isn't really true, in reality the frogs just jump out.) But I'm wondering about Antioch and myself. I love my house, I love teaching at Los Medanos College. I love being able to ride my bike to work. But at what point is enough too much? When did some Jews realize things were going south in Germany and bail out? Is it silly to stay, or silly to plan to spend money I don't have to move to somewhere that's farther away from work and that would give me an unpleasant commute (in a car!)?
And what about my fellow man? Do I live in fear of young men? Of people with short hair? Of people about 5'6"? Of people with any of the surface attributes my attackers have? What's prudent? What's paranoid?
My good friend Trine is so positive about, well, everything. She points out that while Antioch has problems, there are also numerous kind and caring people here. I'm trying to channel her good attitude. But, I find myself asking not if there are good people here, but rather, have we've reached a critical mass of not-well-meaning people? What is the tipping point? Are we there or past it? As the Clash sang back in the 80s, should I stay or should I go?