Brass Cojones

This December first will be the 18th anniversary of our arrival in Sun City West. How can that be? Those eighteen years have fled like they were pursued by a band of howling banshees. Eighteen years. When we got here, Sun City West was surrounded by empty desert, the small community of Surprise to our south, the original Sun City seven miles to the east. It was a safe haven compared to too many communities in the country, virtually no crime, a place whre it was safe to walk the streets alone at any hour. Eighteen years later, Sun City West is surrounded by housing developments, and sleepy little Surprise has mushroomed to nearly 200,000 residents. And it’s no longer safe to walk alone after dark. We have no police presence here, only our sheriff’s posse, a group of residents who patrol our streets and maintain a nearly instantaneous connection to the sheriff and his deputies. But for thieves and vandals our city must appear like a defenseless golden egg. We now have too many breakins at local business, too many incidents of house burglaries, from open garages too many daylight thefts of golf clubs and golf carts or anything else of value. It no longer feels safe here. The thieves all seem so brazen, so little profit from the thefts, so much to lose in prison time. Every day we have many landscaping crews in town, and how easy it would be to case houses, looking for empties after the snow birds fly home. How easy it would be to knock on a front door to make sure no one is home, then go to the rear of the house as though to do some tree trimming, then force a patio door and into the house. A quick search for jewelry or gold coins or cash, a quick unhooking of television sets and computers to be left for a nighttime pickup. Then out again, all innocent smiles as they climb into their truck and away. The garage thefts are even more brazen. Most garages are always closed, but I’ve heard people tell me they had gone shopping and were carrying their groceries in. Within minutes they come back to the garage to find their golf clubs gone. That takes brass cojones as large as bowling balls. So far we haven’t had any home invasions or physical assaults, but they might not be far off. Are we still happy to be living here? Yes. Do we still feel as safe as we used to? No.