To answer this complicated question, first
you have to listen to my story about the Fish Cop. I swore I wouldn’t tell this story until our
kids had all graduated but everyone involved has given me their consent so here
goes. The Fish Cop story, like most of
my best stories, starts out in the Team Mom mobile. It was September 2013, and I was taking 5
rowers up to Mystic, CT for the Coastweeks Regatta. All of the rowers, except for Little Michael,
were persons of color, resided in the City of Newburgh, and were also
scholar-athletes, who know how to handle themselves in a “street
situation.”
Now, once upon a time, a very long
time ago, Mrs. Lo also knew how to handle herself in a street situation. As a young, reasonably attractive female at
NYU, I often got followed in the streets of NYC, but not by police officers
(unless they were trying to get my phone number). I developed a different set of “street instincts”. Street Instincts are what have kept many of
us urban dwellers alive in many situations.
A country girl will unknowingly be followed through the streets of New
York City for blocks and possibly be accosted.
A street savvy girl will pick her moment, turn around, look the stalker
in the face and say, “Stop following me you one-eyed freak or I’m calling 911.”
Back to
Coastweeks. We were meeting the rest of
the 45-member Newburgh Rowing Club up in Mystic, CT and Big Coach made a really
big deal about us getting to the trailer, helping unload the boats, and going
over the course map. However, we got to
Mystic way later than everyone else because we had stopped to watch my older
son Christian’s Goldbacks YFL football game.
It’s impossible to keep in touch at a Regatta when Coach is unloading so
what had happened, although we didn’t know it, was that he and the other rowers
unloaded from about 5 pm – 7 pm. We
arrived in Mystic at about 7 pm. We went
to the only location we knew of, the same place we had been setting up the
trailer for the past 3 years.
This was at
the Mystic Seaport. We all had our
Newburgh Rowing Club windbreakers on, with the hoodies up because it was
cold. We tried to get into the gate but
it was locked. Kelvin received a text
from a rower who said, “You guys just passed us, come on over to the trailer
now.” It turns out the trailer was 2
blocks away but of course we didn’t know that.
“How did
everybody else get in?” said Michael. I
figured Big Coach had a key to the gate or there was some entrance we couldn’t
see in the dark. “Let’s just hop the
fence and see if we can find them,” said one of the rowers. At the time, it sounded like a good idea. After all, there was a rower who could see us
and was calling us over. Everyone hopped
the fence one-handed like the teenage athletes that they are. Michael and I had to be helped over. We looked around and the place was eerily
empty. Did I go to the wrong Regatta? Do I have the wrong date? These things do happen.
The rowers
wanted to keep looking for our coach but I said no, let’s leave, we tried our
best, they will get the boats unloaded and I will go over the course map with
you, let’s get some sleep.
We all
started walking the 5 blocks to our car.
At about T minus 5, Soup said to me, “We’re being followed, Mrs.
Lo.” I looked around, the sleepy
village streets were deserted. Michael was singing the Lion King song. Don’t be silly, I told Dajour, there’s no one
here. At about T minus 4, Kelvin said to
me in Spanish, “I can take Michael on my back and run, Soup will take you, Kayla,
and Richard and you guys run in the other direction, whoever is following us
doesn’t like us.”
Kelvin, I
said, you poor, sweet misguided child, it is so nice of you to try to protect
us, but I tell you there’s no one following us.
Little did I know that, just on instinct alone, he could not only sense
we were being followed he could sense the dislike.
“It’s a cop, Mrs. Lo, with a
flashlight and a badge,” said Soup. Oh,
well, that’s good then, we’re safe, guys, I said.
That’s when
the Fish Cop yelled, “Halt where you are people!” I instinctively grabbed Michael, and I told
the rowers NOT to run. We had our backs
to the Fish Cop and, for the first time since I left New York City, where I was
once attacked on the subway, I was legit scared. Because the tone of that voice told me that
Fish Cop didn’t see a Team Mom, a 9 year old boy, and 4 rowers on the honor
roll in private school, she saw people of color with hoodies up. Even though I was a 48-year-old trial
attorney, pillar of the community, and mother of 2, the instinct to run was
overwhelming. However, I was afraid we
would all be shot in the back. I just
wished overwhelmingly that my husband was there. Or Coach Kennedy. But it was all on me. Dear Lord, I prayed, Please send an archangel
to protect us.
Finally, my
long dormant, almost dead street instincts from 20 plus years ago kicked
in. There was nothing to do but calmly
turn around and face the situation head on.
Listen guys, no one is going to run, I said. You are going to slowly take your hoods down,
turn your palms up to show they’re empty and slowly turn around but stay where
you are. I am the only one who is going to walk forward and talk to this
officer. I should add that these varsity
athletes, even if they had to pickup Michael, could have sprinted to Hartford
in no time if they wanted to -- but they are good kids and they listened to me.
I turned
around to see who I was facing. An
older, angry woman who did not have the benefit of getting to Waters Edge Salon
and Spa every Friday like I did glowered at me.
And that’s when the Lawyer in me kicked in. First, identify yourself and diffuse the
situation.
“Good
evening, Officer, my name is Juliana LoBiondo, I’m the Team Mom for the
Newburgh Rowing Club and these youngsters are some of our top rowers, we are
delighted to be here in historic Mystic Seaport for …”
“Shut it,
Blondie!” she snapped angrily. Blondie?
Did she just call me Blondie? What the
heck, I’m not blond, I mean I had to start highlighting my hair once it went
gray but … FOCUS, I must stay focused.
“I have you on tape, Blondie, you were all trespassing on Museum
property and I am the officer who patrols the museum and protects Mystic River!” Lawyers affectionately refer to the DEC
officers as “Fish Cops” so I immediately downgraded the whole thing to a
teachable moment. She might force us to
eat worms but she was not carrying a weapon other than a nightstick.
“With all
due respect, Officer, we were not committing the act of Trespass. We are invitees and as invitees we cannot, as
a matter of law be trespassing. Nor did
we have any malevolent mens rea, in
fact, our team is spending thousands of dollars to be in town for the Regatta,
we were invited here and we were trying to reach our Coach and our boats.”
Throw a
little Latin at people and it always buys you some time.
“Then why
did you jump the fence when there is a buzzer to open the gate?” she said. “And what the hell’s with that Little Kid -- is
he retarded or something?”
I looked
behind me. My Sweet Little Michael had
his palms up and he was looking up the the night sky, swaying and reciting the
Lord’s Prayer. He later explained that
when we go to Church and say the Lord’s Prayer during Mass we turn our palms up
to the air and that’s what he thought I wanted him to do. Plus it was making him feel better.
So she’s
bitter and mean to kids, and uses the “R” word, OK, I don’t need to be that
nice. Gloves Off. Check.
Lawyer Brain in Hyper Drive.
Check.
“No, ma’am,
he is not retarded. Does Mystic have an
ordinance prohibiting Developmentally Challenged people from walking around, or
from praying in public? In fact, does
the Village of Mystic know that you are harassin paying tourists and you are
scaring little children? Is this even
within your scope of duties? Who is your
supervisor and are they appointed or elected?
Under whose authority were you issued a badge? I would like to have the name and phone
number of your supervisor and I would like to know under what circumstances you
are …”
“The buzzer
doesn’t work, Mommy,” interrupted Michael who was all of a sudden was standing
next to me. “I tried the buzzer -- I
remembered it from last year and it doesn’t work.”
The Fish Cop
looked down at Little Michael, then age 9, with his chubby cheeks, his big blue
eyes and the thick eyelashes and a small piece of her grinchy heart
melted. Then she looked at the other
kids, all clearly rowers, fit, athletic, handsome and beautiful. Standing there politely waiting for this
Crazy Fish Cop Lady to be done.
She realized
she had read the situation all wrong and started to wilt.
“Since you
seem like a nice lady, I won’t file Harassment charges,” I said.
“This time,”
said Little Michael.
And we turned
and walked away. “Michael, how did you
know about the buzzer?” I said. “I’m a coxy, Mommy, I have to watch out for
my rowers and I have to test out all the equipment.” I was liking my kid’s instincts.
“How come
you didn’t tell her you were a Lawyer and show her your Attorney ID,” the kids
all asked me. Because, I told them, I
wanted you to see that you don’t have to be a Lawyer, you can just be an
ordinary citizen and you don’t have to be scared.
Mrs. Lo and
the Student Ambassadors and my own kids have all bonded in so many ways and the
Loyalty runs so deep. But this was a big
one. Squelching the instinct to run, and
listening to me.
What does this
have to do with have my the schools in Newburgh? I am proud of my long dormant street
instincts. My rower kids are proud of
being from Newburgh and have street instincts that would blow away anybody I
ever knew in Manhattan, the 10 years I lived there. And guess what, both of my kids have a touch
of street instincts. Christian has
walked from our house to the Boys and Girls Club on 285 Liberty and has slept
over his friends’ houses in the City of Newburgh many times. Our rule is to walk the streets in
pairs. One person alone is a problem and
a big group can be a problem of a different nature. Michael not so much but he is in the car when
I drive all over the City of Newburgh, to his school, the Boathouse, the Boys
and Girls Club, Delano Hitch, NFA and now our office. He rows with kids, ages 10 and up, who often
walk down from their residences in the City of Newburgh to the Boathouse. Although nobody walks home at night -- either
a parent, a coach or Mrs. Lo drives them.
I hope all
the streets of Newburgh are crime free some day, not just the ones near
schools. But what can be done to make
the streets surrounding our schools in the City of Newburgh safer?
·
Bring
back the School Crossing Guards. We
should have school crossing guards for the many kids who walk to school and
have to cross the street. They are
employees of the City. The City used to
have them but then ran out of money.
Instead of spending money to tear down the Newburgh Rowing Boathouse,
why don’t we invest in school crossing guards?
·
School
Safety Zones. At one time, there were
safety zones created around schools in Newburgh. I believe the idea was that the Police would
give top priority to any place where there were school children. It would be a great idea to bring that back,
for Head Start, Horizons, GAMS, Bishop Dunn, and for the middle schools (South,
Nora Cronin and San Miguel) and the high school.
·
Create
School Safety Booster Groups. I realize
the City doesn’t have money for anything.
But let’s not do stupid things with what money we do have like tearing down the Newburgh Rowing
Boathouse. Why not work with the
community and parents and local businesses to start School Safety Booster
Groups. When a high school team needs
extra money for their uniforms or athletic banquet or what have you, they have
a Parent Booster Group. They raise
money, whether it’s selling candy bars or seeking donations, to help the
team. Why not create Booster Groups to
at least get back the School Crossing Guards.
That would be a great way to create jobs and it’s a job we really need
to have here in the City of Newburgh.
In the meantime, there is no Bubble we can put over our kids
to keep them 100% safe. Look at me, I
grew up in bucolic Fishkill but hated the country life; I got a full
scholarship to NYU and lived in NYC for 10 years. Instead of trying to build a wall between
myself and Newburgh, I made it my life’s work to really getting involved. You
can too: Volunteer at the Newburgh
Rowing Club or the Boys and Girls Club of Newburgh or the many other
organizations helping kids. We could
live anywhere. We chose to live in Town
of Newburgh, send our kids to school in the City of Newburgh and have an office
in the City of Newburgh. Because as Big
Coach says: “If you’re not doing
Something, then you’re doing Nothing.”
Have a great
day everyone! And, as always Remember to Count Your Blessings! <3 Mrs. Lo
EPILOGUE – At Coastweeks 2013, Michael’s boat took first
place in their event. The Student
Ambassadors took Silver in their event, the only boat that was faster than them
was the US Coast Guard Academy. And Mr.
Lo and Christian surprised us all by driving up after the Football Game (they
won, Christian had a Touchdown), and joining us for dinner just in time to hear
the Fish Cop story. And we lived Happily
Ever After. In Newburgh <3
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