I am conservative in almost every way. I believe in the American Dream.  I’ve lived it.  My great grandfather or his grandfather or somebody, came over here from Germany.  They drifted west doing manual labor, mostly logging, clearing trees.  Eventually they found some good farmland on the Mississippi Delta, borrowed money from the seller, bought their own patch and the rest is history.

I like to think the American Dream is available to all people in equal measures.   My passion, money and time go toward educating young people so that they too can experience the American Dream. So, when I read or see something that seems to imply that this dream may not be everyone’s dream, that makes me too sad.  I close my eyes.  I close my ears.  I turn away.

Yesterday I experienced my own injustice.  I was the victim of a crime.  At my very own country club, someone expertly lifted my wallet out of my purse in a room full of people. Within an hour, they had made a passport with my name on it and the female thief’s photo. There were at least three of them, a woman and two men. They hit the Galleria and had a field day. They spent over $25,000 in shops I have never set foot in. Hard working people don’t waste their money on Gucci or Louis Vuitton.  But the real violation didn’t happen to me.  It’s what happened to Christopher and Adam.

You see, at first my friends and the club staff did not believe that my wallet had been stolen.  How could it have been?  The four of us playing mahjong never left the room.  We were there the whole time.  After the book club ladies left, no one else was in the room. No one except for Christopher, who was our waiter.  Chris is black. He’s from Nigeria. Double whammy. You know how it is with those Nigerians and credit card fraud?  We called Chris in to see if he noticed anything unusual.  If he saw anything. We were trying to gather as much information as possible. Pick everyone’s brain.  I could see it in his eyes. The worry.  The resignation.  The fear.  It broke my heart.  Christopher is a wonderful guy.  It never occurred to me that he might feel threatened by being asked to help.

At this point, everyone was still trying to convince me that I must have left my wallet at home. Then I remembered that I had tipped Adam, the Hispanic valet, on my way in.  I was hoping that he had not left for the day, because he could verify that I did have my wallet when I got to the club.  I gave him $5.00 when I got there because we often play mahjong late into the afternoon after he’s gone home.  We stood beside my car and chatted for a few minutes. Fortunately he was still around and the club manager brought him into the lounge area where it happened. Adam told everyone basically the exact same thing I had told them, word for word.  He saw me get my wallet out of my purse, hand him a five dollar bill and put my wallet back in my purse.  I did not leave it in the car or drop it on the ground, although the club staff and my friends searched my car a half dozen times. I was so thankful to Adam for corroborating my account of things. If not for him, no one would have believed me.  But when Adam first walked into the room, I saw the same look in his eyes as the one Christopher had.  Fear.

There is so much to tell about this particular theft.  It was a professional job, no doubt.  I am out only one trip to the DMV to replace my driver’s license and the $300 cash I had in my wallet. Chase Bank is out quite a lot, although they don’t seem too fussed. American Express is the real hero here.  They alerted me to the fraud almost immediately. They are the reason I looked for my wallet to begin with. They shut down their spigot before the scumbags could spend any money.

I am not the victim.  No, I sort of am.  But my pain is temporary.  My inconvenience small. I already have a new American Express card, thanks to over night delivery.  I have ordered new checks, a new debit card, and spoken to the customer service coordinator who will help me alert all the vendors about their automated payments.  I have received my “Fraud Kit” from Chase and I am good to go.  I’ll be alright.  But I won’t be the same. I saw the world that Christopher and Adam live in.  A world where when something goes missing, they are afraid.