Boy Detective
Yesterday I found a lost pocket calendar. I picked it up to see if there was a name and phone number for the owner. There wasn't, but it was clear that the person who left it had their whole life in there -- including an AMEX number, and a social security number, and a passport number. Yikes - hello, identity theft.
Suddenly, I didn't feel quite as good about leaving it beside the ATM where I found it.
So I left a big note ("Lose your calendar? I found it! Call me") and took the calendar with me. I looked at it more closely last night. There were a lot of notes about her schedule, all of which were cryptic. One clue stood out. The owner had written down the insurance information for a woman in NY; why? It had to be a relative, maybe an aging parent. That gave me a name to google. The name lead to an online obituary of this woman's husband. The article listed the names of the deceased's children and step-children, but whitepages.com couldn't find them living near my town. Back to the calendar. I found entries for high school track meets. I tried googling those last names and the word "track", and found the name of the son. That lead me to a newspaper article on him when he was photographed at an anti-hate rally, which gave me his correct town, which let whitepages.com actually find them.
I've just called and left a message, letting her know I found it.
I'm torn between being squicked out at invading her privacy, and feeling pleased about the detective work. Time expired: 15-20 minutes. But I wish she'd just written her name or her phone number on the first page.
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Meanwhile, Happy Walk for Hunger Day! 40,000 people are currently walking in front of my house and screaming. Makes me wish I'd mowed my lawn.
Suddenly, I didn't feel quite as good about leaving it beside the ATM where I found it.
So I left a big note ("Lose your calendar? I found it! Call me") and took the calendar with me. I looked at it more closely last night. There were a lot of notes about her schedule, all of which were cryptic. One clue stood out. The owner had written down the insurance information for a woman in NY; why? It had to be a relative, maybe an aging parent. That gave me a name to google. The name lead to an online obituary of this woman's husband. The article listed the names of the deceased's children and step-children, but whitepages.com couldn't find them living near my town. Back to the calendar. I found entries for high school track meets. I tried googling those last names and the word "track", and found the name of the son. That lead me to a newspaper article on him when he was photographed at an anti-hate rally, which gave me his correct town, which let whitepages.com actually find them.
I've just called and left a message, letting her know I found it.
I'm torn between being squicked out at invading her privacy, and feeling pleased about the detective work. Time expired: 15-20 minutes. But I wish she'd just written her name or her phone number on the first page.
---
Meanwhile, Happy Walk for Hunger Day! 40,000 people are currently walking in front of my house and screaming. Makes me wish I'd mowed my lawn.