It was a beautiful day. I remember the morning light in our little house on W. Illinois Street. I was about four, and was home with our housekeeper and my baby sister, Cathy. My father was at work and my older sister, Sarah, was in her kindergarten class at school.
My two sisters and I lived with my father at this point in my life. Up until a few months prior, we had lived with both of my parents in a different little house on Falls Drive in Dallas. Now, my mother was in a mental hospital following a suicide attempt. After staying with different family members for a couple of weeks, we moved into the little house on W. Illinois. We had a series of housekeepers watching us during the day while my father was at work.
On this day, I remember the housekeeper was with me in the living room when there was a knock at the door. I climbed up on the sofa to look out the window and was delighted to see a policeman on our front steps. I announced this to the housekeeper, and then climbed off the sofa and opened the door to let the policeman come in.
There was a bit of a commotion at this point, because the housekeeper ran out the back door as soon as she realized the police had arrived. Apparently, the police were looking for her, which was why they had come by. I never saw her again.
My little sister was in her playpen. At first she was asleep, but then she woke up and played with her toys. The policeman stayed with us while our father was located, and I assume his partner went looking for the housekeeper down the alley. That part of my memory is fragmented, but what I do recall quite clearly is that I had a Lassie coloring book, and the policeman colored with me and was really kind. The memory of the nice policeman has remained with me all of my life.
So, thank you kind policeman. For an hour or two, you brought a sense of safety and security to a little girl who really needed it. Too many of the adults in my life who were supposed to take care of my sisters and me made other choices. It means a lot to me that you were kind.
Blog post content Copyright Ann Dow, October 2021