Egging seems harmless after Morningside ordeal By Bob Karolevitz It was a perfectly good egg, one which would have been better served sunnyside up instead of scrambled.
It had taken a hen at least 24 hours to manufacture it before she plopped it out on the nest.
Eventually it ended up in the hands of some thrill-seeking vandal who just had to throw it at something. As our unsuspecting car stood in the parking lot, its windshield made a good target.
Yup, we were egged!
By the time we got back to the vehicle, the gooey egg white had frozen on the glass. The yolk had dribbled down onto the hood where it rested as sticky evidence of a messy, but quite harmless prank.
Instead of getting angry, we just laughed at the mess. After all, it was a fitting climax to a night-time ordeal which befell us and our friends, Denny and Jan Everson.
For those of you who will be reading this report many miles from the scene of this misadventure, I should set the stage for you.
It happened at Morningside College in Sioux City, IA, where the four of us had gone to a basketball game in Denny's auto. As loyal Jackrabbit fans, we had watched our team from South Dakota State University get upset by the Morningside Mustangs.
Dejectedly we had trudged to the unlighted parking lot, steeped in the agony of defeat. And then we saw it!
Thieves had bashed in one of the rear windows of the car and taken both Phyllis's and Jan's purses which � we're sorry to say in hindsight � were left in plain sight on the rear seat. That was the beginning of our nightmare.
The time was now approximately 10:30 p.m. Inside the two purses were driver's licenses, credit cards, checks and � among other things � pictures of our 50th wedding anniversary party which Phyllis wanted to show Jan. It called for action.
Denny and Jan rushed back the auditorium to report the incident to Morningside security. It was kissed off by a casual remark: "Oh, it happens lots of times around here." We had to go to the Sioux City police station to report the crime.
When we got there, a friendly, helpful lady took a description of what was in the purses and gave us a case number to substantiate the felony. Now it was after 11 p.m., and something had to be done quickly about cancelling those credit cards.
Fortunately we found two telephones at a downtown motel, and the gals began to make calls. Phyllis was informed that the thieves had already gone to three ATM machines to try to obtain more than $500 in cash � but they were thwarted because of the lack of a PIN number. Obviously time was of the essence. It was already past midnight.
The girls struggled to remember what credit cards had been stolen, but gradually they got everything cancelled. Both reported that the women on the 800 numbers at that hour were sympathetic and helpful. The clock on the wall showed 1:30 a.m. when they finally finished.
We then went to an all-night restaurant for a two o'clock "breakfast," which I paid for with our remaining cash (all credit cards having been cancelled). I got four cents back, which I told the cashier I would take and buy something nice for myself.
The broken window was sealed with tape and a packing envelope, the only things available at a 24-hour Walgreens. Needless to say, the 65-mile
drive back to where we had left our car in an unprotected lot gave us plenty of time to talk over the harrowing experience.
Denny and Jan finally dropped us off at our SUV as it was going on 3 a.m. And that's when we saw the egging.
It seemed so insignificant!
© 2001 Robert F. Karolevitz