Why Witnesses Suck
Dec. 17th, 2012 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lydamorehouseI was just at Kowalski's grocery store, and I stumbled in on a robbery at gun point. I saw the robber. I saw the gun. I was in the middle of an aisle when I saw him talking to two of the people who worked there, and he lifted a gloved hand and my brain slowly registered that huge black thing in his hand: GUN.
I dropped my groceries in search of someone in the back of the store, far from the scene who could call 9-1-1. I'd started to reach for my own cell phone, but my thought was: I can't let the robber see any of us calling the police. He might panic and start shooting. But, when I found one of the stockers, he told me the cops had already been called. Customers and employees started huddling by the dairy section waiting for... the worst? The all clear? A rescue? I'm not even sure, because even now I feel strangely distant, removed, and numb.
I kept watching down the aisle I'd come up, listening to the employees recounting what they'd seen and heard. He'd come in the back door. He demanded the cashier on duty open all the drawers. Everyone was shaking. Everyone was scared. No one knew what was happening.
Then someone was waving for us to leave the store. I thought, "Oh crap, this has escalated to some kind of hostage situation and we're either getting freed while others are left behind, or we're all being brought to the same place." Turns out, the gunman had fled at that point and the manager wanted to do some kind of head count, to make sure everyone was accounted for. And, then the real confusion set in. Was he gone? Was everyone okay? Were the cops in persuit?
Should we continue shopping?
Seriously.
A bunch of us customers were like, what do we do with our groceries? I was perfectly willing to abandon them, but the manager, bless his pragmatic soul, said, "Well, I can ring you through as long as you don't need cash back."
I also asked if I should stay behind and wait for the police to see if I could add a description of the robber. Everyone thought maybe I should, since I had seen him. That part was... interesting. The officer who interviewed me was a huge, beefy guy in body armor, and I realized as I told him my story that witnesses are UTTERLY UNRELIABLE. I told him the absolute truth. Gender? Uh... my impression was male. Race? Well, not black like night, but otherwise...? Height? I don't know... not nearly as big as you (I was informed the officer was over six foot). Weight? No idea. Not overly fat. Not super-buff. Clothing? Hoodie with the hood up, but color..? I've got nothing concrete.
"Look," I finally told the guy, "I can tell you exactly three things I remember without hesitation: mask (my brain first tried to make it make sense as one of those hospital masks people wear sometimes when they have a cold), gloves (plastic looking, again, like from a hospital, kind of see-through, not like mittens or something you'd wear to keep the cold out), and BIG-ASS, BLACK GUN."
To the officer's credit, he rolled with me. He asked me to describe in as best detail as I could the things I did remember. We talked a long time about the gun. I told him that my vast knowledge of TV-guns made me think it was not a revolver, but an automatic or semi-automatic. He held it in one hand. His finger was on the trigger. It was black. It was big. It made my heart stop cold.
I can't imagine any of these details will be terribly helpful. But, I'm not sure it will matter much. I heard that the robber was shot trying to escape police pursuit.
I have no idea how to feel about any of this. It was crazy, but everyone was amazing. No one in the store panicked. Hardly anyone cried, not even in the aftermath. Not even the poor cashier who apparently had a gun pointed to his head.
I've lived in the city for over twenty years and this is the first time I've ever been in a situation remotely like this. I've seen guns before, but mostly in the hands of the police--even rifles in the hands of the S.W.A.T. Team when they busted the folks next door. I've been to the gun range and held several guns myself, and once saw someone drop a gun out of their coat on the streets of downtown Minneapolis. I helped the police cadets train as part of the citizen's police academy I attended years ago, and I pulled an unloaded gun on an officer in play/practice/pretend and shouted "Bang! You're dead!" (To which he replied, "Am not!" and his instructor said, "Are too!") But, this kind of thing where I thought I might actually get caught up in REAL violence... no, never.
Crazy.
I may go hide now for a while.
I dropped my groceries in search of someone in the back of the store, far from the scene who could call 9-1-1. I'd started to reach for my own cell phone, but my thought was: I can't let the robber see any of us calling the police. He might panic and start shooting. But, when I found one of the stockers, he told me the cops had already been called. Customers and employees started huddling by the dairy section waiting for... the worst? The all clear? A rescue? I'm not even sure, because even now I feel strangely distant, removed, and numb.
I kept watching down the aisle I'd come up, listening to the employees recounting what they'd seen and heard. He'd come in the back door. He demanded the cashier on duty open all the drawers. Everyone was shaking. Everyone was scared. No one knew what was happening.
Then someone was waving for us to leave the store. I thought, "Oh crap, this has escalated to some kind of hostage situation and we're either getting freed while others are left behind, or we're all being brought to the same place." Turns out, the gunman had fled at that point and the manager wanted to do some kind of head count, to make sure everyone was accounted for. And, then the real confusion set in. Was he gone? Was everyone okay? Were the cops in persuit?
Should we continue shopping?
Seriously.
A bunch of us customers were like, what do we do with our groceries? I was perfectly willing to abandon them, but the manager, bless his pragmatic soul, said, "Well, I can ring you through as long as you don't need cash back."
I also asked if I should stay behind and wait for the police to see if I could add a description of the robber. Everyone thought maybe I should, since I had seen him. That part was... interesting. The officer who interviewed me was a huge, beefy guy in body armor, and I realized as I told him my story that witnesses are UTTERLY UNRELIABLE. I told him the absolute truth. Gender? Uh... my impression was male. Race? Well, not black like night, but otherwise...? Height? I don't know... not nearly as big as you (I was informed the officer was over six foot). Weight? No idea. Not overly fat. Not super-buff. Clothing? Hoodie with the hood up, but color..? I've got nothing concrete.
"Look," I finally told the guy, "I can tell you exactly three things I remember without hesitation: mask (my brain first tried to make it make sense as one of those hospital masks people wear sometimes when they have a cold), gloves (plastic looking, again, like from a hospital, kind of see-through, not like mittens or something you'd wear to keep the cold out), and BIG-ASS, BLACK GUN."
To the officer's credit, he rolled with me. He asked me to describe in as best detail as I could the things I did remember. We talked a long time about the gun. I told him that my vast knowledge of TV-guns made me think it was not a revolver, but an automatic or semi-automatic. He held it in one hand. His finger was on the trigger. It was black. It was big. It made my heart stop cold.
I can't imagine any of these details will be terribly helpful. But, I'm not sure it will matter much. I heard that the robber was shot trying to escape police pursuit.
I have no idea how to feel about any of this. It was crazy, but everyone was amazing. No one in the store panicked. Hardly anyone cried, not even in the aftermath. Not even the poor cashier who apparently had a gun pointed to his head.
I've lived in the city for over twenty years and this is the first time I've ever been in a situation remotely like this. I've seen guns before, but mostly in the hands of the police--even rifles in the hands of the S.W.A.T. Team when they busted the folks next door. I've been to the gun range and held several guns myself, and once saw someone drop a gun out of their coat on the streets of downtown Minneapolis. I helped the police cadets train as part of the citizen's police academy I attended years ago, and I pulled an unloaded gun on an officer in play/practice/pretend and shouted "Bang! You're dead!" (To which he replied, "Am not!" and his instructor said, "Are too!") But, this kind of thing where I thought I might actually get caught up in REAL violence... no, never.
Crazy.
I may go hide now for a while.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:14 pm (UTC)There's already a story at the Pioneer Press website:
http://www.twincities.com/localnews/ci_22208171/st-paul-police-shooting-suspect-investigated
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:19 pm (UTC)(And yeah, the reliability of witnesses thing -- I've been asked to recall details in far less stressful situations, and I've come up way empty...)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:32 pm (UTC)Thanks for the concern. I'm taking care of myself. I'm drinking water. Apparently, that helps with shock.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:36 pm (UTC)And, though it might be a bit early to be saying this.... on the upside, it's a great experience to have under your belt in terms of writing. *tries to see a silver lining*
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 07:13 pm (UTC)You may be seeing the affects of shock post-trauma show up in my fic!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 04:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 06:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 07:11 pm (UTC)I admire you tremendously for being honest about your witness experience. Too many witnesses try to fill in the gaps, probably because so many people are absolutely convinced that if they were a witness, they'd get every detail right. (Experiments show, of course, that hardly anyone gets much of anything right.)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-17 08:47 pm (UTC)It is a great idea to get it all out. Write, talk to family and friends, etc.
Also, you remember what you remember. I've seen firsthand cases where three witnesses see the same thing and remember it three different ways. Here, at least, the judicial system appreciates that and can get at the truth of the narrative of the crime without depending too much on minor discrepancies. It doesn't make the witness/victim's experiences any less real and true or their evidence any less reliable.
Just like you feel a bit jittery being in a car again after an accident, you can expect to feel weird and jittery. It may be at things you don't expect, like a cash register or even milk in your cereal (I'm reaching here). The important thing is to look after yourself and allow yourself to have a good freakout if and when you need to.
I am sure my Lumpy Space Princess icon lends verity and gravitas to my advice here :P
no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 02:42 pm (UTC)(Sorry, just catching up on my friends list after a couple days of distraction.)