In 1984, because of a job loss, we moved to Detroit. Actually we ended up in Grosse Pointe Woods, Michigan. We moved in around the first of August, after many months of trying to find a home.
Our son was staying with his grandparents and my husband took off to pick him up and go back to Iowa to pack up the house and move it to Michigan. He had movers sent by his company. Big mistake.
I remember on October 30 of that year, leaving for work late. I had an appointment with a school to see about enrolling our son in kindergarten. It was a classy, private school. I wanted him to have the best.
As I was backing out of the drive, I saw a woman wearing a leather fringed jacket and an old Chevy Impala following her. I didn’t think much of it, although she did look familiar.
The next day, Halloween, I arrived home to find that we’d been robbed. Gone were the VCR, my computer, the expensive typewriter I used to bring in money typing for a court reporter, all of my jewelry. That included a sapphire and diamond ring my husband had bought me for one Christmas. Luckily I had my diamond on as I didn’t always wear it. It was a bit large and would twirl on my finger and annoy me while I was typing.
Gone too was an old diamond ring my husband never wore, buried deep in a bag full of camera equipment and electrical testers.
What wasn’t gone was the silver, the fine china, none of the oil paintings, nothing they couldn’t hock for drugs.
I called the police who came and told us this was a dry run and they would be back for the good stuff. Scared the shit out of me. There’s nothing worse than the feeling you get when some asshole has broken into your home and fouled it with their hands. And nothing worse than having a four-year old ask if they took his toys. No they didn’t. They just took our peace of mind. And I knew who they were. I recognized her. They were the movers that were sent to our home in Iowa to help pack up our stuff and bring it to Michigan. Thieves, sent by my husband’s company.
The next day we called an alarm company and put in an alarm. Even though we rented the house, I wasn’t going to stay there another day without protection. I wasn’t going to leave that house until we had an alarm hooked up to the police department and signs all over the windows and yard.
Today I stumbled upon my ring. Looking at “estate” jewelry on the internet, I come across the ring they stole from me. I knew it was mine as there was a tiny chip in the sapphire that I’d put in accidentally banging my hand up against something. I wondered how many people had possession of this ring in the twenty years since I had it and how it ended up there.
No matter. I don’t want it back. Sapphires are bad luck for people like me. Let someone else have the bad luck, I’ve had enough …………..