AIR FORCE DIARIES
By Marquita R. Barr
October 24, 2001~~~~~~
It has been exactly one
month since I reported for “duty” to work as the Director of the Tax
Center at the Bolling Air Force Base in Washington, DC. Why does
it seem like a year? I’ll tell you why.
Long, 1-hour waiting lines at the security gate when you have to report to work in 15 minutes.
Getting lost everyday going home, or out for lunch. The
scenic re-routing does very little to quell my panic when I
realize I have lost my sense of direction.
The most “exciting” thing about this change of locale was my “initiation” back to city life.
I
drove back home to Florida the weekend of October 12, 2001 to try to
finalize my moving arrangements, settle things with my leasing office,
and try to enjoy a few days sleeping in my own bed. I didn’t know
how much I missed my organ. I must have played every song in each
music
book all through the days and night, because I got very little packing
done. Sunday at about 1:00pm, October 14, 2001 I started
driving back to Maryland (I board in a small town called Largo).
I arrived at my apartment about 3:00 am Monday morning. I
planned on bunking down fast for 3 ½ hours then getting up to go
straight to work. On my way up the walkway to the
condominium complex a local thief (driving a moving van) pops out and
grabs my purse ----and runs away---of course. Police reports,
etc. However, I, in my uniqueness had crossed paths with a thief
who also had just broke into the gas station around the corner and
stolen an AUTOMATED TELLER MACHINE. That’s what was in the moving
van. When I mentioned to the cop that the
thief
got out of a moving van, his eyes got very large. He invited me
outside where there was a squadron of police examining the van.
When they heard my story, they took more reports, telling me how lucky
I was in that I was not hurt. NOT HURT? That
rogue got every credit card I had and charged himself into the next
week. I lost a cell phone, calling cards, driver’s license, work
ID (that took me so long to get), money ($15-HA!), and my self-respect,
and sense of safety. Well---I guess I am lucky to be alive, even
though I was broke until my Credit Union could express mail a
Cashier’s
check to me. It’s back to “life in the big city” living for
me. If this was Florida, he and his accomplice (forgot to mention
there were two) would have been trying to outrun helicopters and
bloodhounds. Unfortunately, in the county jail they would have
met up with more than an iron bar cell.
The next day it took me 2(two) hours to try to get on Base.
I finally got a new I.D. (picture posted at the top of
page). Slowly I’m recouping things lost.
At
this writing, new of the Anthrax virus spread American citizen all over
via terrorist mail permeates the news reports. I try listening to
music (my Johnny Mathis tapes), watching video movies, anything to keep
my mind off what I fear may be an unstoppable and impending doom.
My
only consolation is the success of my work. Setting up the
Tax Center and recruiting volunteers to assist in preparing tax returns
for the Airmen is going very well. No hitches---well almost no
hitches---the IRS, initially wanted to back off from the classroom
training, but I talked them out of it….and initially my Commander was
going to move me from the Tax Office to some hole-in-wall, but I
talked him out of it. So----I’m happy here.
I’ve instructed my daughter to take my
grandson to her husband’s native country if this thing gets
worse. I hope my oldest daughter will go with her.
GOD WILL HELP US-----but when?