I sit here pondering a scary occurrence to me yesterday, not wanting to tar all preteen or early teen boys with the same brush. I wonder, do parents sit down at the Sunday night dinner table and ask their children what they were up to on their day.
Sunday, after spending part of the weekend with my father, I was coming through the intersection of Hwy. 97 and 16 where there was a grass fire. The fire truck with lights and sirens on was coming against traffic to get to the scene. I was driving west and four boys were coming towards the highway from behind the Playhouse - one had a bike, two were on foot and one was on a scooter. The one on the scooter jumped off, letting it go down the ditch by itself and falling just short of coming onto the highway.
What would have happened if that thing had come out farther into the traffic or in front of my van. Then a golf ball was thrown into the traffic by one of the boys, which hit my windshield. I stopped my van and opened my door when it was safe to do so, but the four had crossed the four lanes of traffic. The boy put his hood up so I could not see his face or hair.
What the "h---" do you expect to hit when you throw a golf ball into traffic? They continued on the footpath to the Candy Cane lane area, and I proceeded to the area in hopes of following him to his house to talk to his parents. After spotting the four of them, I approached them, one of the boys said to the golf ball boy to give him the spray cans. Golf ball boy then turned away from them and went in the other direction to split up. I told him I wanted to know where he lived so I could talk to his parents, but he wouldn't tell me. I followed behind him in my van, and he went in the ditch above the underpass on Upland Street and headed south.
Of course I couldn't drive up there to follow him further.
A police file has been opened and now I have to find 300 dollars to replace my windshield that was damaged by the hands of someone else.
Tammie Phillips
Prince George
