Someone recently made a comment to me: "Seems everybody that lives in the South, wants to fight or shoot something!" Not exactly sure if they were referring to me, the Egg Nazi or just people in general. Considering they live in the "South" six months of the year, I'm not at all understanding their thought process or if any thought was put into that ridiculously stupid statement in the first place. Yes, it was a resident of my community, they reside the other six months in a suburb of Detroit. Guess they don't read the newspapers when they are in the "North" or listen to the television. I am quite sure Detroit TV stations report on all forms of crimes, much like TV stations all over the place, people love violence. The source of this person's discontent....Someone shot out the windows at a local convenience store. No injuries, just a broken window. It did however, bring back a long forgotten incident at Fred's News.
It had been a turbulent week at Fred's News. We had suffered a fire, completely burning our garage, Mr. Bill's pickup truck and our beloved Corvette. The garage also housed extra equipment for Fred's News, an antique, ornately carved bar mirror, about twenty feet in length that was once was part of the original Fred's News decor, having been removed by "the brothers", during an upgrade to the place. Lots of irreplaceable items, now nothing but ash. Thankfully no one hurt, our home and business intact, it did change the face of the neighborhood. By most accounts, it was neighborhood redevelopment at its' best. Unfortunately, we did not see it that way. Just a few days later, I began my morning ritual of baking muffins, bagels, starting the daily specials, but as I opened the rear door of Fred's News, something was terribly wrong, the front door shattered, glass everywhere. Not knowing what was wrong, I approached with extreme caution, "what if someone had broken into the restaurant?" "What if they were still in side?" About face..out the door...back upstairs..."Bill, the front door is smashed, I don't know how, don't know if anybody is still there, what a mess, I'm calling the State Police!" I screamed, all in one long breathe, only to have Mr. Bill stick his head out of the bathroom, calmly asking, "Did you say something to me?" I wish I had taken a picture of his expression as I repeated that long winded sentence.....he's trying to get dressed, I'm dialing 911, pissed off, loudly saying, "what the Christ is going to happen next." Of course as the dispatcher answers the call, I calmly relayed the incident and was told..."Do not enter the premises until the Trooper arrives." Really! Like I hadn't thought of that one! Actually the Trooper arrived within minutes, it was obvious, no one had entered the place. The only foreign object in the place was the shattered pieces of the bullet that had penetrated the glass, hit the back wall coming to rest alongside the old Coca-Cola cooler. Nothing taken, nothing else damaged, frazzled nerves turning to a very pissed off angry feeling..Who and why was this done to us? That question haunted us for months. No one saw or heard a thing, the Trooper saying "it was a random thing." It did prove that people love violence...the story repeated countless times, people we hadn't seen for quite some time, stopping in to check out the story. I don't think anyone ever said "seems like everyone in the North (Baltic) wants to fight or shoot something.!"
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