Over the past few days, we’ve seen the person that attempted to break into our apartment and our neighbor’s apartment wandering around the building in the stairwells and out on the streets. My wife took the photo above. As you can see, the person did not even bother to throw away the hoodie. Or leave the area.
We stayed in contact with a detective that was working on the case. Me, my wife and the girl that lives next door told him that we’d seen the suspect around the building and neighborhood multiple times so he came and reviewed the security footage. Turns out it’s not a he. It’s a she, and she is a crackhead that used to live in the building and is sleeping on the roof. I couldn’t make out features under the hoodie and just assumed this person was a man, I suppose because it seems a little unwise to do breaking and entering as a woman, when there is a greater chance of being overpowered by anyone inside. She has been arrested before for breaking into people’s apartments and stealing in order to support her drug habit.
Yesterday, my wife and the girl whose apartment was almost burglarized saw the suspect in the morning and I saw her in the afternoon, out on the street. I called 911, but the cops never showed up. That’s really disappointing. I waited outside for almost 15 minutes and then gave up. I went into the subway to try to get the transit cops to come out and arrest her, but they weren’t interested in helping. Their conversation with their colleagues was too interesting, I guess. I went home, and when I got to my floor, the building superintendent told me she had gone into one of the apartments in the building. I called the detective to let him know and found out later that she had been arrested.
I’m not sure what she’ll be charged with, but hopefully it’s something that keeps her away from our building for a while, or permanently.
Around 9 PM, another cop knocked on my door. My neighbor had finally returned home and found my note taped to her door. Her parents were there as well. The cops took my statement and information again and this time at least told me to keep the photos in case they found or find the guy so they can build a case against him. My neighbor also wanted copies of the photos so I sent them to her. Funny thing is, we’ve lived next door to each other for a year but until tonight I never even knew her name. Nothing brings people together like misfortune, I guess, but it’s nice that we’ve managed to turn this into an opportunity to get to know each other.
This morning I woke up to the sound of banging. I went to check the door because I was expecting a package today (another book for my MA Arab-Israeli Conflict course), but no one was there. I figured it must have been the people downstairs that are renovating the apartment below ours. When I walked back down the hallway I heard banging on the window in our bathroom, so I went to see what was going on.
When I stepped into the bathroom I saw a guy standing there on the other side of the window out on the fire escape. I couldn’t see him clearly because the glass is frosted, but I could see a silhouette. I wasn’t sure what was going on at first because it was 10:30 am, very sunny and the corner of the building is still visible from the street because the trees haven’t grown leaves yet.
The guy must have seen me through the window as well. He moved over to his right, towards my neighbor’s apartment windows. I figured the guy was going to run or something, but instead he started kicking in the glass of my neighbor’s window. I peeked through the blinds to double-check, because really, who is stupid enough to keep trying to break into a apartments when they just saw someone in the next apartment? I saw glass falling. I went to the bathroom, opened the window, peeked around the corner and saw the guy leaning into the window, so I shut the window and called the police.
I can’t imagine the guy didn’t hear me open and close the window, unless it’s louder standing on the fire escape than it was for me inside. The whole time I was on the phone with the police though he kept at it, breaking glass on the window. When I got off the phone with the police, I went back to the bathroom, cracked the window open, stuck my hand out and snapped a few photos. Then I shut the window. I heard more glass breaking.
About 5 minutes later I heard the guy go up the fire escape to the roof. Two minutes later the police were at my door. I gave my statement and two cops went through my window onto the fire escape to look at the neighbor’s window. They confirmed the glass was broken. I showed them the photos I took. The weird thing was, the cop was using her iPhone to take a photo of the photo on my iPhone screen. I asked her if it wouldn’t make more sense to just forward the pictures to her and she declined. Seems like it would be better to have the real photo for ID purposes, especially since tattoos are clearly visible in my pictures.
While I was talking to the cops they got a call over the radio saying that a suspect matching the description of the picture had been spotted. I didn’t hear it exactly, but the sergeant I think replied, “He’s still wearing the same clothes?” Then they all ran down the stairs. I imagine they got the guy. Or at least I would hope they did.
I don’t believe in something like slut shaming, but I do believe in shaming criminal stupidity, especially in this instance, when I don’t know whether the cops caught this guy, so I’m going to share these photos I took of the guy, as a sort of public service. If you see this guy, don’t let him near your windows.
Glass on the fire escape. The metal window gate is an old one that’s been there for over a year.
With the end of the semester fast approaching and the amount of work I have to do becoming ever more depressing, I haven’t had time to really think about and process my trip to Israel. I haven’t looked through the photos. I certainly haven’t had time to blog about it in any depth. I could rush some posts and throw some pictures up here, but that wouldn’t really do the experience any justice. So, I’ll have to wait and hopefully I won’t forget too much before I have a chance to get it written down. Or typed down?
Anyway, for now, here are some cool photos I took of the C train and 168th street train station in Manhattan.
The C train sitting in the 168th Street station.168th Street Train Platform
Because my wife kicks ass, she went out to Central Park on Sunday and ran a half-marathon and then came home and told me about it like it was no big deal.
This is the awesome medal she got:
She’s working on building herself up to doing a full marathon. I’m sure she’ll have a medal for that soon as well.
When I was offered the opportunity to go on this trip to Israel, I was really psyched about it. I mean, it’s not every day that you get the chance to travel to one of the most important places in the world. Israel, and Jerusalem specifically, has been the direction of prayer for Jews for thousands of years. For some Christians in some periods it has also served as a direction of prayer. The same can be said for Muslims. During the initial years of Islam, Jerusalem was the qibla, or direction of prayer, before it was switched to Mecca to create a distinction between Muslims and Jews. Jerusalem has been a place of pilgrimage for all three faiths. Millions and millions of people have turned their thoughts, hopes and dreams toward that city. And, I got the chance to go for free. I’m still not entirely sure why. The Jewish Studies program director said it’s just because of who I am. I suppose he means personality and academic achievement, but no matter the reason, I am exceedingly grateful because it was an amazing experience. Life changing in some ways. And, while we didn’t all become the best of friends, we all bonded with each other to varying degrees. How couldn’t we?
The van ride to JFK
But, that came later. Before heading to the airport, we all met up at our professor’s apartment in Manhattan. She had arranged transportation from there to the airport so we could arrive organized, as a group. It was less stressful for her to do things that way and reduced the chances of someone missing the flight.
Security was less aggressive than I expected. I suppose I had built up the interrogation process in my mind and the actual process was sort of a let down. I suppose that sounds sort of odd, but being battered with questions is part of the Israel experience now, for good or bad. I was asked about my identity, who I was traveling with, how long I’d known them, if I’d packed my bags and had my bags in my possession the whole time, and whether or not anyone had tried to give me anything to take to Israel. I was also asked who was in charge of the group and how long I’d known her. I think the process of trying to explain to them that we were all traveling as a group from a school was more complicated and tiresome than answering the questions and Professor Kornfeld handled that part of it anyway.
Awesome memory foam neck pillow.
We wandered around the airport for a while before we headed to the boarding area. I bought a neck pillow. I figured I would need it and got a firm memory foam pillow. It came in handy, especially on the flight back. I thought about how long the week was going to be. Besides Professor Kornfeld, I was the only married person on the trip. I was also the only guy on the trip. That made things interesting, but not in a bad way. But, what I mean is that I was wondering how well things were going to go with my wife being alone for a week with the dog and cats.
People praying in the boarding area by the windows.
When we got to the gate, we went ahead and got in line to board. We stood near the velvet cords that are removed when the staff is going to allow passengers to board. There were people standing by the windows praying. I’m not sure if they were doing evening prayers, praying for a safe flight, or both.
Chassidic guys that cut us in line.
As the time to board came closer, a lot of the Chassidic people decided we weren’t important enough to be at the front of the line, or perhaps that they were too holy to be second, and walked in front of us and squeezed us out of our spot in the line. We had to start telling people the line actually starts at the back, not the front, or I think we would have found everyone bunched in front of us in a huge cluster of stupid.
The El Al staff wasn’t much better. The woman that checked my ticket and passport before letting pass through onto the boarding walkway even made a “psst” noise through her teeth as she handed back my identification. I didn’t have time to stop and think about it then, or perhaps I was too excited to be getting on the plane, but I can’t understand how these people can be so rude to customers and still have their jobs. The flight crew made up for it. They were extremely pleasant.
The El Al plane we flew in.Interior of the El Al plane.
The plane itself was not impressive. It looked old. The screens on the backs of the chairs were discolored, flickered, or were dim. There was no on-demand video. There was a screen at the front of our section of the cabin that was just set to show what was on one of the available channels. It was worse than most domestic Delta flights I’ve taken. It didn’t hold a candle to Singapore Airlines. Those guys even give out slippers, tooth brushes and tooth paste. Complimentary champagne too, in economy class. El Al wouldn’t even agree to provide vegetarian meals for people in our group who don’t eat meat. But, at least it was safe.
I had a surprise on the plane. When I looked to my left I saw a guy I recognized and after a while I realized he attends the same synagogue I do. When I caught his eye he smiled and waved and I found out he was heading to Israel for a wedding. I bumped into him again at the customs/border control area.
Mosaics on the wall, heading into the customs/border control area.
Arriving in Israel, we discovered that there is no immigration stamp anymore. Because the Arab countries behave like children and won’t allow anyone in that has an Israeli visa stamp in their passport, Israel has had to change the way they issue visas. Now, they provide you with a printed card that looks sort of like an ID, with a photo and an entry number. You get another one as you leave the country. I was disappointed. Even though not having that stamp is probably best if I want to do more traveling in the region, it would have been cool to have. And, do I really want to visit and spend money in countries that behave like that anyway?
Balloons on the ceiling from families greeting returning loved ones.A large menorah outside Ben Gurion International Airport.
We left New York City at about midnight and arrived in Tel Aviv at Ben Gurion airport at about 4 PM. The drive to Jerusalem wasn’t that long at all. Before we knew it we were dropping our things off at the hotel. We were staying at the Eldan, across the street from the King David Hotel. I can’t remember if we showered. I’m sure I brushed my teeth at least, but before long we were back in the van and heading out for dinner.
Everything we feared about communism – that we would lose our houses and savings and be forced to labor eternally for meager wages with no voice in the system – has come true under capitalism.
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