Scotiabank in Lanark Village to close next week–Lake 88
This is a story to remind you what happens to stolen cars sometimes– and it could happen to you:
The first gentle snow of the year cascaded out of the sky as my late husband Angelo and our sons exited the Carleton Place Arena. A difficult hockey game had been won, and smiles were plastered on my sons’ faces until Angelo stopped and stared at a now empty parking spot. They had parked the Jeep Cherokee only a few hours before and now all that was left in that space was accumulating snow. No longer was there a trusted vehicle ready to take them home and sudden panic filled the crisp night air.
Angelo scratched his head as tiny voices began to ask their father where their vehicle was. They wandered through the beautiful snowy night looking in the parking lot for the Jeep that was not there. Slowly walking home toting their heavy hockey gear, they left footprints in the new snow while silently asking themselves what could have possibly happened to the Jeep.
I stood on the kitchen verandah gazing at the beauty of the new snow and told myself that the night could not be more perfect. In the distance I heard noises and wondered if the young children next door are coming out to make snow angels. Instead I see moving snow covered figures and a gentle cry I recognize coming from one of my children.
“Mum”, my oldest said. “Someone stole our Jeep!”
The tears on their faces were now mixed with snow flakes and I heard the crunch of their feet in fresh snow while they climbed the stairs of the verandah. Inside, safe from the cold and wet we discussed what could have happened and call the police, who advised us of a long wait due to the snowstorm.
Sleep was deprived all that night while the snow fell and the constables told us that our Jeep was probably stripped down never to be seen again. The next morning the sun gleamed brightly on the new snow, and also on the empty spot in our front yard where the Jeep once sat.
The first snow stayed for a week and slowly it melted under a warm sun and turned into puddles much like the tears that I shed for our lost Jeep. That Thursday it snowed once again, and as I shoveled the walkway our neighbour Joyce White poked her head out of the front door and asked,
“Linda, isn’t this your Jeep?”
I walked slowly across the road as my visibility was impaired from the snow and grabbed the Lanark Era newspaper that she held in her hand. There in the newspaper was a picture of our stolen snow covered Jeep. Our vehicle had grabbed front page news as it had been used in a bank robbery in the fair quiet village of Lanark, Ontario. The thieves had left it there after the heist and had escaped through the deep snow to the woods never to be found.
Immediately we called the police to report that the renegade Jeep had once belonged to us. After going through much red tape the tow truck brought back our still snow covered Jeep and as it was released in the yard it made a loud icy thud. The books full of my sons’ sticker collection still remained, but my Verdi CDS were gone, probably used by the criminals to enhance the mood of that first snowy night.
We looked at it closely and then walked away as the vehicle was now at peace – but were we? The next week just as it reached dusk I saw foreign headlights inch their way down the snow covered driveway.
Was it our once stolen Jeep I asked myself?
No, it was a new one that shared the fresh snow as Angelo slowly told me while the flakes hung to my hair,
“I know I said we would keep it and it was a good ride,
But each day as I drove it I felt like Bonnie and Clyde!”
Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.
Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News and now in The Townships Sun