A Police Officer Drove Me Home After My Bike Was Stolen
Continuing the collection of stories for my grandchildren… One day, when I was in the 7th grade, my bike was stolen, and a police officer drove me home. Here’s the story of how it happened. I was reminded of this incident after I published a related story — The Day An Ice-Cream Man Saved My Life.
When I told the story about getting mugged in Detroit — almost getting my bike stolen — and how the ice-cream man saved my life, my friend Arklie Hooten asked if it was a Schwinn 10-speed bike. (Those Schwinn 10-speeds were popular back in the 70’s.) That reminded me of the green Schwinn bike I used to ride to school back in the 7th grade.
I was in 7th grade back in 1972. I attended the Dearborn Christian School, located at the corner of Rotunda Drive and Audette Street in Dearborn. It was about a 2 mile ride to school each day, from my home on Linden Street.
During the warmer months, I would ride my bike to school every day, and park it in the bike rack.
In those days, many people would use an inexpensive ‘dog-chain’ combination bike lock, similar to the one in the image. What we didn’t know back then was that bike thieves could easily cut through those chains in a few seconds with a cable cutter or bolt cutter.
When school let out that sad spring day, I went out to jump on my bike and ride home, but to my surprise, the bike was gone and all I found was the cleanly cut chain lying on the ground.
So, I ran back into the school holding the broken bike lock, crying and shouting: “Someone stole my bike!”
The school principal called the Dearborn Police to report the incident, and 5 or 10 minutes later a young officer arrived in his blue squad car to investigate the crime.
After talking the situation over with Mr. Mulder (the principal), the officer said he would take me for a ride in the squad car, and we would drive around the nearby streets to see if the bike could be found.
I rode in the back seat of the squad car as we drove down Audette Street and Outer Drive, and looked out the window to see if we could find a thief riding my bike, or maybe find my bike abandoned somewhere. But my bike was long gone. After riding around for 15 minutes or so, we pulled up at my house, and the officer walked me up to the front door and talked to my mother. The officer explained the situation, and said that the bike was probably in another city by then.
My mom could see that I was upset about the stolen bike, and tried to break through my downcast disposition — by joking about me arriving home in a police car. In fact, she joked about me getting a ride home in the squad car for several years after that.
The green Schwinn 10 speed bike was never found, but I purchased a sturdier bike lock when I bought my next bike. The old bikes are long gone, but I still have the old (now rusty) chain, and the stainless steel donut lock. In fact I took a picture of the chain and lock, after finding the old chain in my garage this morning. It used to be coated in red rubber.
To read another story about my bike adventures see The Day An Ice-Cream Man Saved My Life.