I would steal a car for you

That time a Gang Banger Befriended Me and Offered to Steal a New BMW for Me to Replace My Old One

Either I bring out the best in some people or I’m just pitiful

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

The gang member saw me drive up in my nearly destroyed BMW. He took me aside from the others. Conspiratorially, but matter-of-factly, he said,

“Hey, Carol. Let me get you another one.”

Was I tempted? Oh yeah.

I was a single mother of an infant. I was only months out of graduate school. There was no child support. I was working a part-time job and seeing a handful of private clients as a new psychotherapist. Money was tight enough that I was lucky to have two quarters to rub together to make a squeak. What I also didn’t have was money for a new car — much less a BMW.

Worse, my BMW was ten years old, and I had dropped the insurance coverage down to liability only. I figured I could still drive if it had a dent or two, although it didn’t. Until then.

There had been a newsworthy hail storm the weekend before the gangster’s generous offer to steal a car for me. The hail stones were, in fact, softball size. And there were enough that when the storm was over, the ground was completely white. Hailstones knocked down power lines, which writhed and sparked on the ice covered ground.

My baby and I, and a friend and her baby, were at Mayfest in the park. It’s a popular, well-attended event, necessitating parking in a large field adjacent to a football stadium and the park. We parked somewhere in the middle of the field, put the babies in their strollers, and hiked in.

We had fun for a while, listening to music, looking at animals, getting balloons, and doing baby rides. Utnil, the clouds darkened suddenly and quickly. They loomed close to the ground, and took on the bubble shapes that portend hail. An announcement blared through the park,

“Mayfest is now closing due to weather. Please go to your transportation or a safe, covered place immediately.”

We made a dash for the car.

Once we were in the car, however, the hail started. As I, and the hundreds of other people, tried to drive out, we were stuck in lines of cars leaving through only two exits. In desperation, as the hail pinged our car relentlessly, I turned in circles to attempt different avenues to either exit.

Then the windshield and back window began to shatter. We grabbed the babies out of their car seats and put the car seats over them to protect them from the flying glass. We prayed out loud, and the little guys did too, in their toddler way.

In a lull we ran, holding our sons, to the limited shelter of a nearby building awning, leaving the car abandoned to the hailstones. When the storm finally relented, we were herded by first responders to a stadium building, where they bandaged my leg, cut by the glass, and gave the boys teddy bears.

The car was drivable but demolished. We accepted a ride home. My parents were on their way from their town two hours away. When they arrived, we went back to my car and my dad drove it to my house without a windshield or back window. These were pre-Uber and Lyft days, so I drove my nearly destroyed, but drivable, car to work Monday.

The gangster shook his head when I drove up in it to the place where I provided counseling to gang members recently released from Texas Youth commission prison. They spent eight hours a day, six days a week, with us in a nine month program intended to help them rehabilitate.

I was supposed to help them see alternatives to theft and violence, not encourage or allow it.

I didn’t take my gangster friend’s offer to “replace” my car. My parents helped me buy a used Mazda.

He didn’t understand why I couldn’t let him provide me with a new BMW to replace the destroyed one. In his eyes I lost status by lowering my car standards.

I hope, as an adult, and if he stayed out of prison, that he also remembered I demonstrated honesty and resilience in the face of hardship. Not hardship like he was used to, but he saw it as my hardship. And in the only way he knew how, he really did want to help. And I was grateful.

I’ll be pursuing a lifelong dream October 25–27 at the Omega Institute, where I’ll be speaking on “The Psychology of Writing — Getting to Flow.”Click the embedded link for information on how you can attend.

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