A circular grassy knoll surrounds the office building where I work. Throughout the knoll are a variety of shrubs, flowerbeds, and trees. Early one weekend morning, a speeding motorist zipped around the corner, lost control of her car, hit the curb, flipped in the air, and flew across the grass. The car’s trajectory was interrupted when it crashed into one of the trees (a 30-foot elm).
We’ve been trying to save the tree from further damage ever since. But we have run into an administrative snafu: we haven’t been able to obtain a copy of the police report because the Officer in Charge has not filled it out (even though the nice receptionists at the MHPD told us the process should “take a few days”).
We’ve called several times and paid two visits in person. No results. Finally, I took matters into my own hands. I’m testing the power of the pen against bogged-down bureaucracy. I wrote a letter:
Dear Morgan Hill Police Officer:
My name is Elmo Elm. I’m your neighbor on Concord Circle. In January of this year a woman plowed into me with her car. The force of the impact ripped a piece of my body right out of my trunk. OUCH!
I didn’t cry because I’m a Big Boy. But I was left with a big gaping wound. And it hurts everyday.
The nice people that own me called a Tree Doctor. He said this wound would not heal by itself. And not even if there were a Band-Aid big enough to cover my gash. Therefore I need an operation to repair the damage. If I don’t get the operation, I’ll die.
Everyday that I don’t get fixed, my trunk gets sicker and sicker. When it rains, the moisture rots my delicate innards. If the operation is delayed much longer, it will be too late to save me.
The doc says it will be the not-fun way to die: slow and painful.
HELP — I don’t want to die!
I’m not sure if you’re aware of the value that we trees provide the environment. Besides our natural beauty, we breathe in CO2 (nasty stuff) and exhale oxygen, which you humans seem to enjoy very much.
The reason there is a stall scheduling my necessary surgery is that my owners need your police report so they can contact the insurance company of the tree basher.
I sure hope you can help me out. If I get well, you may come over and sit underneath my branches and relax from your stressful job any time you like. I will personally waft a cool breeze over you—and keep the pesky birds away from your head (if you catch my drift).
Hope to hear from you soon. My life depends on it!
Thanks in advance for your assistance in this matter.
Sincerely,
Your pal (and possibly BFF) Elmo
I attached the letter to a box of See’s Chocolate Candies and delivered it to the MHPD today. I’ll let you know if the letter (or maybe the candy?) gets results. Stay tuned…
