Categories: Dobel Street
A police chase and an important message

By all accounts, despite its threatening appearance, the neighborhood around Fletcher Field is as safe as its been in 20 years.
Paul Weekes, proprietor of Otto Schemansky Sons Monuments on the corner of Van Dyke and Nuernberg, no longer carries a loaded pistol on his hip.
"I still have it," Weekes said as we stood outside the 115-year-old business a few weeks ago. "But it's in my desk drawer, unloaded. I don't need it anymore."
Weekes went on to say that the situation was entirely different a decade ago, when crack cocaine was still in its heyday and he carried the gun -- loaded -- with him at all times.
"Ten years ago we couldn't have stood out here and had this conversation without finding trouble," Weeks said.
Others who have lived in the neighborhood for at least the last two decades tell a similar story.
"The locusts have gone," a longtime resident of the area told me at Fletcher Field last November. "They came in fast, devoured what was here and have moved on."
My personal experiences coincide with the reports. I've spent hour upon hour in and around the park during the past 15 months -- often all by myself. Knock on wood, I have never had an experience during which I felt completely threatened -- except the time a friendly and overzealous pit bull sneaked up and jumped on me from behind, and he just wanted some belly pets.
Which brings us to last night, about 9 p.m., 30 minutes after a meeting at Mt. Olivet Cemetery. A few of us, including Weekes, were standing in the parking lot just outside the cemetery's office building.
During an amicable chat about our kids' participation in sports, we heard a number of emergency sirens heading south on Van Dyke, then approximately three crashing sounds -- metal on metal -- near the railroad tracks north of Mt. Olivet's main gates.
There were about five state police vehicles that stopped near the tracks right after the crashes. Moments later, three of them proceeded south on Van Dyke. It became obvious whomever the cops were looking for had escaped from the crash scene and were now on foot.
As all of this transpired, the four of us who remained at the cemetery became more than a little concerned. The one I least expected to hear it from declared: "I'm scared."
Anyway, we cautiously left the cemetery a short while later and all made it home safely.
I thought about the incident most of last night and part of today. I wanted to write about it, but I also needed to put it in proper perspective. Then I remembered.
A year ago in Grosse Pointe Woods, Jon Morgan and I saw a similar police chase happen in broad daylight. Although we didn't witness a crash on this particular day, there very well could have been one before the incident ended.
The last time we saw the bad guy, he had cut across an island separating the road and was traveling at high speed going in the wrong direction. It looked like the cops were getting ready to do the same thing as we left the scene in the rear-view mirror.
I guess the bottom line is: Shit happens -- EVERYWHERE. Spend enough time in any given area and you're bound to witness it.
But for those of you who still believe you're destined to be mugged or shot dead the minute you step out of your car near Fletcher Field, it's simply not true.
Quit believing the hyperbole you read in the local newspapers.
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Peace, Mike.
I kind of like the fact we hang out in a cemetery talking on a regular basis and it doesn't seem to bother any of us. It just shows how dedicated to our cause we really are. Further more I couldn't have been too afraid, I drove past the accident after we left instead of going down 6 mile. lmaooooooooo!
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