Lunar Discourse

"Catch Your Dreams Before They Slip Away"


Okay. This is news. Today I called the police. Driving up Sixth Street to work today, as I passed under the viaduct just before Broad Street, I noticed, spray-painted in red on the iron of the railroad bridge, "C-4." That's a threat, I thought to myself. I would have done a double take, but I didn't notice it until I was almost under the bridge. As I drove a couple blocks up the road, I considered making a turn-around at Ash to see if what I thought I saw was what I actually saw. But, I was pretty certain of it, so decided against crossing back.

When I got to the office, the first thing I did, after unlocking the doors, was to call the Springfield Police Department. I called the main number and got Springfield Dispatch. I told the gal on the phone what I saw. She put me through to some guy at the main desk. Again, I recounted what I saw. His reply took me a little aback. He said that is property of the railroad and that they'll probably have someone along to paint over it. He said there's a lot of railroad graffiti around here. I said, yeah, okay, but don't you think you should have someone go out there and look at it. He said no, not really, the railroad has their own police department. Then he added that someone else called ahead of me to report the "C-4." Okay, that makes me feel a lot better. Not. I asked him if he knew what C-4 is. As he stammered, "uhh," I interrupted him and told him its an explosive. I informed him that you see it in a lot of movies. C-4 is always being used to blow things up in an illegal way. Apparently, this revelation wasn't enough to shake him up. He again told me the railroad has its own police department and they will handle it. When I asked him what railroad company owns that particular viaduct, he said he thought it might be the ICG.

For some reason I expected a different response. I don't know what, exactly. Maybe shutting down the city for the day?

So, after I got home from work tonight, I was telling my oldest daughter about it. She informed me there's a local gang of white supremists who go by the handle, "C-4." Now, at this point, I get it. That's probably what the cop was thinking.

I make no apologizes for my grammar as I've used it in these pages. The New York Times on-line edition writers and editors often end sentences in prepositions. And they not only start sentences with the word, "and," they actually start paragraphs with the word, "and." And stuff like that. So, there!

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Marie Carnes 2002.


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