Several days ago, late on a Friday afternoon, our family received a call from a young lady saying she was my niece, who was then in Juneau, stating that she had been in a fender-bender with her car and at the police station and accused by police of talking on her cellphone while driving and was being held at the police station on a felony charge, a charge equivalent to driving drunk.
She was in Juneau visiting a friend, she said, whose father, luckily, was an attorney. The attorney came on the phone, saying he was willing to help my niece for no charge because he knew she and his daughter were close friends. The problem, he said, was that the charge could only be solved with a cash-only bond to get into a busy court, a bond that he assured me was fully refundable as soon as the court held a hearing; and he assured me he could get the girl out of her fix with no problem.
He said he would need to have a bond, cash only ($20,000), for the court as soon as possible. It was too late that day to get to the bank to draw the funds. We would have to get to the bank as soon as possible the next morning, withdraw the funds and meet with an Anchorage bond broker, and file paperwork.
These folks had jerked the hearts right out of our bodies. This was one of our favorite nieces. We talked with her several times during the whole operation. She was terribly upset over the phone. One thing she insisted on was that we not breathe a word to her family, back at home. She wanted to handle that herself, she said.
Later that evening, my wife and I had an early morning talk. Something was not right here. The next morning, the attorney called and ask if we had been to the bank. We said no. He was taken aback and put my niece on again. We had some simple questions to ask her that she could not answer. Again, this girl got hysterical, asking why we were questioning her because she was so upset and could not remember anything. (The name of her grandmother? Or what nickname did the whole family call me when I was in her town?) That was the end of it.
The next morning we called the niece in question. She there making coffee and headed for work, safe and sound at home.
I don’t know, in the end, what will happen to these ghouls, but I’ll bet they will never be cold.
— Dennis Lattery
Chugiak
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