Episode 7: A Light Christmas Story
Welcome to Christmas week 2020, and the latest episode of Parallel Proof. I hope your holidays have been merry and bright so far. 2021 is coming and I am optimistic it will turn out a bit more normal than this past year. But who knows what the new normal will end up being. Thank you for stopping by. I know your time is valuable, and you being here means a great deal. If you know anyone that would like this podcast, please share it. And, fairly soon, I’m going to have merch available, and some free stuff for people who share this cast with others. But, with that, let’s get to it.
This is episode 7: A Light Christmas Story
It was an early morning on the day shift in Sacramento, and much like today as I record this, it was the week before Christmas. My Identifier for this brisk feeling cold morn was Bravo 42. Graveyard are Alpha units, day shift is Bravo, and the swing shift carries the Charles identifiers. Today I am responsible for an area just south and west of the city. On normal mornings, Bravo units have the luxury of leaving the station, relaxing a bit, meeting up with other 6 am to 4 pm units, getting their coffee, and a hot breakfast at a local dive. Its early, and per usual, the majority of residents aren’t out and about yet so it’s fairly quiet. Late night carousing, partying, and drunk fests haven’t worn off, so people are still crashed and sleeping off their ill-advised decisions to live it up, -- or---take it down, however they decided to spend their night. Now, I said the Q word a few seconds ago, and a little side bar, cops DO NOT say the Q word while on duty. It is a known fact, and a superstition, that anytime a police officer says the Q word, that is, the word Quiet, as in, everything is quiet, typically, all hell will break loose. This is particularly bad at the end of a shift when you wanna go home in a timely manner, or get to your much needed lunch in the middle of your shift. That getting to lunch will be a whole other podcast episode. But, anyway, as mornings go, it, well, wasn’t quiet.
I need my coffee, the nectar of the gods, and, I don’t succeed. A call comes in, right out of roll call, from a mid 30’s male who had just arrived to his mom and dads house in a very well off neighborhood. He was visiting his parents for the holidays and, came home to their house to find parts of the home disheveled and rummaged through, with an open window near the Christmas tree. Someone had broken into the home and caused harm to his parents. I was given this dispatch along with other units to secure the scene, canvass the area, obtain witness statements, and otherwise wait for CSI to arrive.
As first on the scene, I get to observe the crime location, take detailed mental notes of what I come across, I’ll have to put pen to paper in a report later as to what I saw, and speak with the son to get his witness statement as well. The son was contacted sitting outside the front door of this beautiful bi-level home set in a cul-de-sac. He was planted on a bench in the entryway near the front door. We moved said son away from the scene and allowed him to sit in the back of a patrol vehicle with his legs out the door. It’s just a place for him to sit and gather himself. He appeared very somber, with very little emotion. It almost looked like he was in some sort of shock. That’s understandable, based on the spectacle I was about to absorb.
The inside of the dwelling was immaculate. It had the care taken from people displaying concern and consideration of a well kept domicile. The aroma of typical holiday smells filled the air, like cinnamon, nutmeg, clove and apples. Sweet, homey, and inviting. And eerily calm. You wouldn’t expect that in a place like this. It should be teeming with seasonal greetings, and I should be welcomed with warm handshakes and salutations by the owners. And yet, I wasn’t. The Q word permeated the aura. It was deathly quiet.
The season was apparent and completely overtaken within its walls. Christmas décor in every room. This was an important time of year for who lives here, and they make it known both inside and outside the home. Christmas was their thing, one could tell. The Christmas tree was bold and a center piece of the living room. Some presents under the tree appeared carefully placed, other looked as if they had been kicked around. The open window near the tree stood out like a piece of chocolate between your front tooth and bicuspid. Very noticeable, and very misplaced. As I walked down the Christmas ridden hallway, the inlaid shelving had its drawers open and rummaged through. This hall had an opening to the left which takes you to the kitchen, and the end of the hall opens up to the family room. The moment I walked into the family room, I was greeted by the back of a long leather couch and on the other side, to its right, I noticed feet on their side. Someone was laying on ground. And then I saw him, on the floor, on his right side in a pool of blood, was the father of the caller, and owner of this amazing home. Throat cut from ear to ear. For a moment its surreal. You freeze in the shock of the enormity of depravity. Its jarring. When you come to, you realize that the son had told dispatch he was visiting his parents. Where, then, is the female half of couple?
I make my way up the flight of stairs, past a few bedrooms and into the master with the extremely large master bathroom straight ahead. The double sinked bathroom was bright as all the lights were illuminated. There she was, in her long white silky nightgown, the female half of this Christmas loving couple. She was positioned close to the cabinets between the two sinks and on her knees, slumped over her own legs, throat slashed, and blood enveloping her resting place. A double homicide. No weapon seen. No suspect. Homicide detectives need to be contacted and take over. A coroner has to be summoned as well.
I’m going to draw a parallel between what inspired words I’ve read, and the ending of this story which I will get back to in a little bit.
Christmas. The most wonderful time of year, according to me, and in line with many others I know. The holiday season can also be a difficult time for many, for any number of reasons. Christ came into this world as celebrated on Christmas to be Hope for mankind. A Guide, a Defender, a Help and Savior, and (like David said in Psalm 119:105) a Lamp to my feet and a Light to my path. His words illuminate which way you should go at every crossroad and every turn, voluntary or involuntary moves. Jesus came into the world to seek those that are lost, or us who get lost by mere accident, or some of us who lose our way on purpose. Any which way, that’s what Christmas represents. A God who came to live in our shoes, with all the temptations, and worry, frustrations and ridicule. With good friends, and good family, and friends that turned their back and walked away from Him. He knows. That’s why he came, and His experienced words are a lamp to our feet. A vivid, intense light to our path. Seek His communications freely available and we will find. Knock and if it opens, walk through. If the door stays shut, turn around and walk away. Christ was born, and speaks, to be that floodlight illuminating and eradicating darkness around us. One step at a time as we seek him and soak in His inspired words.
Where’s the parallel? I can feel you asking. You might think that it was Christmas time when this story took place and the delivery timing of this podcast. It isn’t. Although, good timing. It is how the murderer was found, and how justice was served for that Christmas married couple.
There was initially no suspect. No murder weapon located. But when neighbors were contacted, one of the nearby residents noticed a vehicle matching the description of the son’s car. This car was seen arriving at the parents’ home later in the evening the previous night, and at some time very early in the morning, that vehicle was observed leaving the home, and then returned about 45 minutes later. It was then that the son called 911 for police assistance. Suspicious, yes. Grounds for arrest, no. Eventually when the scene was processed by CSI, they brought out the UV light. That fantastic light that works wonders. Blood will absorb all the light of the UV bandwidth and won’t reflect back; that is to say it won’t fluoresce in any way and the blood will appear black. In the smallest of forms, flags of darkness, giving its onlookers direction as to which way the incident took a turn.
In this case, there was a clean-up between the 2 bodies that had occurred. Although unseen to the naked eye, smears, and streaks, and smudges stained the floors black with obvious determination. Blood soaked socks had made tracks from body to body. Back and forth from one crime scene to the other. Impressions in a certain size foot, but most importantly, and most damming to the murderer, prints that contained one foot that had half a pinky toe. A toe disfigured, part cut off and missing. This fact exposed by the light. That particular UV instrument served as an educational instructor enlightening the observer and revealing the feet and the path of the criminal. It was later uncovered that one foot of the Christmas couple’s son had a pinky toe half cut off and missing.
Light and feet and pathways. Christ and Christmas. One of my favorite holiday carols during this season is Silent Night. The star in the sky, shedding light on the trek of the Wise Men and the Shepherds. Directing them to the place where they would find a baby destined to be the light of the world. They recognized the awe as an infant. That power continued on as an adult. Bare with me for a moment. Verse 3 is part of the parallel. It goes:
Silent night, Holy night
Son of God, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord at Thy birth
His countenance, His words, guiding steps and unveiling trajectory. He came to reveal our true calling and our purpose for which way to walk. His words are a gift. A present given to us in the form of a beacon and a torch to our feet and trail. Allow the words of Jesus and His face this holiday season, to cast light on your toes and brighten your heading. Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays.
Thank you for being here yet again. Please share this podcast with someone who many enjoy real life tied to inspired words. And I will see you here next week.
