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Last Thursday, July 11, for the third time, I experienced firsthand the effects of insecurity in the city of San Francisco, California. This time I suffered the theft of my means of transportation, a bicycle, which I have been using for more than two years as a way to help not contaminate the environment.
It is an open secret that the San Francisco Police Department (SFPD, for its acronym in English), is completely overwhelmed to deal with the insecurity experienced in the streets, especially in areas considered "most insecure."
However, even in these areas you can be a victim of having the windows of your vehicle broken to steal objects inside, as well as assaults on public transport or on the streets.
I have even been a silent witness, because there is little that can be done, of robberies inside the vehicles of visitors who go to tourist places such as Alamo Square Park, in front of the famous Painted Ladies, which are visited daily by hundreds of people.
But let's return to my bad experience with the issue of insecurity in the county and port of San Francisco.
After five in the afternoon, on July 11, 2024, I went to the well-known Folsom Street, which crosses between 5th and 6th, to run some errands.
As usual, I put two locks on my bicycle and left it parked in one of the areas designated for that type of vehicle. No more than 30 minutes had passed when I left the place where I had gone, only to have the unfortunate surprise that it had been stolen.
I confess that my first reaction was helplessness and anger. This is the third time my vehicle has been stolen.
In 2022, at the door of a well-known supermarket located on 14th Street and Folsom, an electric bicycle, which I rented, was stolen, so I had a big problem and a loss of several hundred dollars.
A year later, in 2023, I parked my bicycle at the door of the building where I live, in the neighborhood known as Lower Pacific Heights, considered quiet and safe, or at least that's what they tell you when you rent.
On that occasion, I only used one lock for the vehicle, so the thug or thugs stole only the front tire. I spent another few hundred dollars to repair that loss.
Just last April, I purchased, out of necessity, a hybrid bicycle, in which I invested almost two thousand dollars. Given the bad experiences, my boyfriend David decided to buy two chips and install them in our vehicles. I didn't know that this decision would save me from losing my "bike."
THE ODYSSEY OF THE STOLEN BICYCLE AND RECOVERED CAR
On July 11, minutes after my bicycle was stolen on Folsom Street, between 5th and 6th. I remembered David's wonderful idea of placing the chip to track the vehicle, so I unlocked the cell phone and, through The chip application located the stolen object.
The unit appeared to me in the La Misión area. So I walked on 6th Street to reach Mission Street and board a truck that was approaching me. On the way, I found one of the locks that had been torn off to steal my bike, I kept it with me as evidence of the crime.
In fact, the bicycle was on Mission Street, between 17th and 18th. Next to my vehicle, there was an African-American person and a woman who was affected by some type of substance. They both looked like homeless people and users of substances that affect the brain.
Faced with this situation, the first thing I did was call 911, thinking that it would be easy to ask for police support, that some officer or officers would come and help me recover my bicycle, which I had well located.
At the emergency number, a person who spoke a little Spanish answered, I explained the situation, after which they asked me many questions, including a description of the person who had stolen the bicycle, I provided the information I had and the person who He answered me and said that a patrol car with officers was on the way.
More than 15 minutes passed and the patrol did not arrive, it is worth mentioning that on Valencia Street and 17th, there is a Police Station, precisely at 630 is the Mission Police Station.
Given the lack of response, I had no choice but to go to the place where my bicycle was, in that area people congregate who sell all kinds of stolen items, specifically on the sidewalk that includes Mission Street, intersections between 17 and 18.
With fear and asking God for strength and protection, I approached the person of African American origin to indicate that the bicycle he had is my property.
Without the slightest surprise, he replied that he had bought it for 100 dollars and that if I wanted it back I had to pay him that amount.
The anger and helplessness returned to me. The subject got into my vehicle and drove away on Mission Street, turned right onto 17th Street and fled. The police never arrived.
I did not have the courage to confront him further, many situations crossed my mind, one of them was the possibility that that person was armed with a sharp object, since I myself have witnessed that assailants get on public transportation with knives, screwdrivers and other objects with which they can attack anyone.
The police never arrived, even at the moment when the person was fleeing with my bicycle, a patrol car passed by the place, I made a sign with my hand to get their attention and I was ignored.
WASTE OF TIME IN ASKING FOR HELP
Through my cell phone I watched the subject drive away with my vehicle, the chip showed me meter by meter the places he was traveling, when he was in the area of the Tenderloin and Civic Center I called 911 again, I made at least 10 calls.
Upon my telephone insistence, one of the answers they gave was that I go to the Police Station located on Valencia Street and 17. It was after six in the afternoon on Thursday, July 11, I entered the building and approached the counter. However, there was no staff, which didn't surprise me.
I waited for several minutes and finally two police officers appeared.
A woman helped me, but she didn't speak Spanish and my English isn't very good, especially when I'm nervous or in a hurry. The other officer, who was in charge of the Station at that time, realized my desperation, he spoke Spanish, so he addressed me only to tell me that before they could give me any kind of help it was necessary to make a report. of the theft of my bicycle.
I explained to him that I had my vehicle located, that I only required the support of an officer to approach the person who had it and be able to recover it.
Visibly uncomfortable with my insistence on asking for support, he responded that they did not have enough personnel to designate someone, he insisted on filing the report and telling me that I had to go back to my vehicle, locate it and then call 911 to request the presence of a police officer, but now using the report number.
With the report slip in my hand and with triple the frustration, I left the police office. They sent me to the street without a real solution and, the most frustrating thing, I saw from my cell phone how the person who had my vehicle walked through various parts of the city, even returning to Mission Street between 17th and 18th.
From the first moment of the theft I stayed in contact with David, my boyfriend, who at all times encouraged me to continue fighting to recover my vehicle. He is a witness to how much I like to use my bike to explore the city.
I was about to give up on my unit, but the thought of losing my investment of almost two thousand dollars, and above all, the discomfort of knowing that I knew where it was, gave me the strength to board another vehicle and approach the address where the bike was indicated to be.
This time I went to 9th Street and Tehama Street, the GPS located my bicycle in that place. Upon arrival, I again followed the police's instructions to contact them at 911. For the umpteenth time, I explained what had happened, but the questions continued, they even asked me the name of the person who had stolen the vehicle. Once the long questionnaire was over, they told me that they would send police support, although they refused to tell me how long it would take to arrive.
Minutes passed and they did not arrive. My bicycle was now on Tehama Street, between 8th and 9th. However, the person of African American origin was no longer there, I deduced that he had abandoned it there, in his place there was a white man next to a house. campaign along with other articles. It was evident that the person was under the influence of drugs.
While I was waiting for the police to arrive (I naively thought they were going to help me), I walked around the area where my vehicle was located, not daring to confront a person under the influence of drugs for fear of their reaction.
Fortunately, some Latinos were on the street at that moment, it was a group of three Venezuelans, they, upon noticing my concern, looked at me strangely. More than 15 minutes had already passed and police support had not arrived, so I decided that I had no choice but to talk to the Latinos and explain my situation to them.
After telling them my story, their reaction was annoyance, "but don't have an accident and crashes, because dozens of patrol cars will appear immediately," one of them said ironically.
I showed them the document that contained the report number of the theft and, to make sure that my story was real, one of them dialed 911, there they confirmed that they had the report and that help was on the way, of course, they did not say which way .
After several minutes and police help not showing up, the three Latino boys accompanied me to claim the vehicle. The guy guarding my bike reacted scared, managed to say some words in English that I didn't understand and moved his head from side to side.
The Venezuelans shouted "get on your bike and go, don't wait any longer!". I recovered from my astonishment and fear, turned on the bike (hybrid), but not before thanking the boys for their help.
It seemed incredible to me to recover my vehicle on my own (with the help of the three Venezuelans, obviously), but without a response from the Honorable San Francisco Police Department.
It is worth mentioning that that same day, July 11, when I was at my home and after recovering the stolen vehicle on my own, I received a phone call from the San Francisco Police Department, I answered, but no one spoke. Nothing happened.
The idea of narrating my experience with insecurity and lack of support from the police in the city of San Francisco has no other objective than to reveal the problems suffered by hundreds of people, who find themselves helpless, because there is no real police support.
Those of us who live in this city know that there is a lack of police elements, in addition to an important renovation of the police units, since even on the streets, you can see obsolete patrol cars, old model vehicles.
A police officer recognized that there are not enough police officers who can serve the population. He said that they were unable to have a police officer help recover a bicycle even though it had been fully located.
The obligatory question is what is the Honorable San Francisco Police Department for? And, in whose hands is the safety of the inhabitants of the city, port and county?
I want to highlight that those of us who live in the United States know about the high taxes that have to be paid to be here, only in the case of the city of San Francisco, the City Government collects taxes for various items, so that it is important that part of these resources be allocated to public safety, as well as updating personnel and infrastructure.
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