The Unlocked Door: Crime in a small town

We moved in 1949 from Seattle to Deer Lodge, Montana, a small agricultural community of about 5000 population. My husband, Spencer, who was more familiarly known as “Smitty”, had purchased a welding shop and dubbed his business, “Smitty The Welder.”

Being a country boy from Arkansas, Smitty was in his glory. He spoke to everyone he saw and before long was on a first name basis. I was more laid back, preferring, I thought, the anonymity of my beloved Seattle, but soon learned that this friendly small town was an ideal place to raise our four-year-old twin daughters.

As they grew older, if we didn’t know where they were or what they were up to, every one else did and never hesitated to inform us. We were within walking distance to the movies, their schools, and favorite eateries. We never worried regarding their safety, whether in cars or afoot, even during their infamous teenage years.

Crime was at a minimum. No one, at least none of our close neighbors, even felt the need to lock their houses while absent. So, we didn’t either. We reveled in our relaxed feelings of security.

After our daughter, Susie, was married and left the nest, she lived in various rural areas, ending up in a small town in Wisconsin. There she has carried on the unlocked door policy. Lancaster reminded her of Deer Lodge in size and friendliness, and she and her husband, Cecil, have enjoyed its cooperative lifestyle. They have felt doubly secure because of their close proximity to their next-door neighbor.

Bernice is a lovable widow, and a life-long resident of Lancaster. At 92 years of age, she has been a better watch dog than one could hope for. She has also become a very special friend with whom they frequently exchange neighborly amenities. Cecil mows Bernice’s lawn in the summer; shovels her sidewalks when it snows, has worked with her in her huge garden and often bails her out when she encounters mechanical problems difficult for a single woman. Bernice reciprocates with mouth-watering baked goodies still warm from her oven. Their admiration for each other is mutual. 

Thus keeping their house locked while at their daytime jobs as instructors at Southwest Wisconsin Technical College has not been among their priorities. They enjoy a short commute to the college and can be home within minutes if necessary.

In the late summer, they had spent long hours at the college preparing for classes on opening day and practically staggered home, bone tired. As they entered the house, they both jerked to a halt, in a state of shock. A quick glance into the sunroom revealed a mindboggling disarray. The furniture had been most unattractively rearranged. Four chairs were placed in a semi-circle around the doorway; the TV was reversed with its screen facing the blank wall, and a table lamp rested on its side on the floor

“Someone has been here!” shouted Cecil, in an understatement. Cautiously, they checked the rest of the house. 

No indications of anyone in the upstairs bedrooms, under the beds, nor in the closets. All was intact in the basement. No valuables appeared to be missing. They were completely mystified. In desperation, they hopped over next door to quiz Bernice.

“Did you see anyone in our house today?” Cecil asked.

Bernice shook her head. She had been away, she said, and just returned home herself.

After listening coolly to their dilemma, she dropped her eyes to the floor as if in deep thought. Then suddenly, she erupted into ripples of giggles.

“I was over there,” she snickered. “My sister was here and we were looking for you to complete our foursome at cards. We were frustrated because you weren’t home,” she continued. “So we decided to shake you up a bit and rearranged the furniture in the sunroom,” she added.

Susie and Cecil were indeed shook up a bit.

Bernice…still a prankster at 92!

Louise Smith

 

This article is from our archives. Louise Smith was a retired newspaper editor and frequent contributor to Northwest Prime Time. I was utterly charmed by Louise when I met her years ago. I remember thinking to myself that I hoped to become more like her as I grew older. She passed away at 95 & one-half in 2009. To learn more about Louise, read a funny, heartfelt tribute by another frequent Northwest Prime Time contributor, former associate editor Suzanne Beyer. Here is the link – I recommend you give it a go. Reading it brought a tear and a hearty chuckle: https://www.bothell-reporter.com/opinion/remembering-a-special-friend-louise-r-smith/