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Four West End teenagers stand accused of burglarizing a neighborhood convenience store for kicks, fame and Christmas loot.
Like semi-professionals, they recently stocked up on hundreds of dollars worth of cigarettes and candy, according to police. They also grabbed an estimated $8,335 in cash, lest their street cred be called into question.
Within the hour, the boys were on Facebook sharing evidence of their caper with their entire social network. Without bothering to disguise themselves, they flashed thousands of dollars they never earned, fanning themselves like old ladies in a church basement on a hot afternoon.
Even before they broadcast details of their $9,000 felonious haul to the whole world, the boys already had an honored spot in that week's stupid criminals sweepstakes for failing to remove the store's surveillance video. It was only a matter of time before the cops in the burglary squad had names to go with four very unrepentant faces.
On Wednesday, police charged two 14-year-olds and a 17-year-old with burglarizing Elliott's Town Market on Chartiers Avenue in the West End. A fourth member of the crew, 18-year-old Isaiah Cutler, was also being sought. Police said Mr. Cutler had the monumentally bad judgment of posting the incriminating photos on his Facebook page, so the cops aren't worried that they're dealing with a master criminal.
Still, as good as the police work was, the boys had their criminal enterprise sabotaged by an unlikely source -- Darlean Brewer, the grandmother of one of the suspects. When her granddaughter, the boy's twin sister, showed her the Facebook page, Ms. Brewer did what every grandmother with a loved one drifting toward the criminal life should do -- she snitched.
Because of Ms. Brewer's tip, detectives were able to have constructive, if uncomfortable, conversations with the parents of the other suspects, too. They, too, wondered how their boys came to possess so much cash, cigarettes and candy. Even Mr. Cutler's mom agreed to let the detectives search her son's bedroom, where plenty of evidence was on hand, though there was no sign of the 18-year-old suspect.
Suspects Randy Troutman and Jamir Brown joined Ms. Brewer's grandson, Tyron, in admitting roles in the break-in at Elliott's Town Market, according to a police criminal complaint.
Ms. Brewer got the ball rolling by snitching first, but all of the parents did the right thing by forcing their boys to answer for their crimes before they became too hardened and too incorrigible from criminal "success."
Everyone agrees that burglary is a bad thing, but not everyone would inform on a loved one under those circumstances. The "stop snitchin' " ethic isn't as ingrained as it used to be, but for many, helping the cops is unthinkable if it means informing on loved ones -- even if they are budding criminals.
The affection that enablers of young criminals have for their family members can't be denied, but it isn't love. If you love someone enough to confront them about the societal cost of running with a bad crowd, you're fulfilling a moral obligation while making future legal interventions less likely.
Most of us can point to a moment growing up when we were forced to confront some great shame for our own good. When I was 7, I stole an ice cream sandwich from the corner store. I slipped it into my pants and marched home through the summer heat.
When I removed the mostly melted rectangle from my side pocket, my mom spotted me furtively sucking the remnant and knew I was guilty of something. She also knew I didn't have money to buy it, because I was already being punished for some infraction against my little sister.
The march back to the corner store was the longest of my life. The store owner would know from the moment I confessed that I was a thief. I tried to get out of it by crying and offering to be punished with no television privileges, but my mother had her mind made up. When we walked through the door of the corner store, I was praying an asteroid would hit at that moment.
After I confessed, my mom paid for the ice cream sandwich and bought a pack of cigarettes for herself. The store owner gave me a disappointed look but managed to smile at me before my mom dragged me home for further punishment.
It hurt like hell, but it was what passed for love in those days.
First Published December 23, 2011 12:00 am
