Commentary: Eric Bergeson
April 2000
Eric Bergeson grew up in rural northwest Minnesota. He received his Master's Degree in
history from the University of North Dakota in 1990. He published a
collection of essays entitled Down on the Farm in 1996. He is presently a
columnist for several Minnesota weekly papers, and runs a nursery and
greenhouse business in his hometown.
EVIDENCE, BOTH ANECDOTAL
and statistical, points towards a rise in rural
crime, but ignoring that evidence is a matter of pride to those of us who
live in the country.
I still leave the keys in my pickup. I don't lock the door to my house,
either, even when I go to Arizona for a month. In fact, I don't know if I
could find the key.
I probably have my head in the sand. Last summer, some neighbors awoke to
discover a stranger having a smoke in their kitchen at 4 a.m. He got away
with a purse before they could figure out who he was, although they have a
pretty good idea. They lock their doors now.
But most of my neighbors seem to think, why lock the doors? If thieves want
to get in, they'll find a way. May as well let them through so they don't
wreck the door frame on their way in.
Such pacifism makes some sense in areas where homes are often spaced more
than a half-of-a mile apart. A locked door on an empty house in the middle
of nowhere is unlikely to stop a thief with a lot of time on his hands.
Rural people often assume that country burglars are little more than
benevolent kleptomaniacs. They might come over and take some of your stuff,
but they're probably just drunk or troubled. They might help themselves to
chainsaws and wrench sets, but they wouldn't hurt anybody.
For the most part, that is true. I have seen a local thief return what he
took after he sobered up the next day. Other times, things reappear a few
mornings later, having been more borrowed than stolen. The borrowers aren't
the cream of the crop - everybody knows that - but they don't seem capable of
violence, either.
Of course violent crime does happen in the country, but it is seldom random.
Most violent crimes consist of drunken brawls or domestic disputes, things
that go on between people who already know each other. Locked doors on
farmhouses do little to stop those crimes.
As far as locked doors go, what about drivers stranded in the cold? What if
somebody goes in the ditch nearby and walks up to your farmplace; isn't it a
bit rude to lock the door and deny them the use of a furnace and a phone,
especially if you aren't home?
Still, there is no getting around the hard truth. As much as we hate to
admit it, there is no excuse for not doing the minimum to protect oneself
and one's property. Leaving one's house open is probably pure negligence.
But the notion that the world is a good place and that people are basically
kind dies hard out in the countryside. We like to think we are immune from
urban evils. We are proud that we still risk trusting others, especially
strangers.
On some level, that can't be such a bad thing.