"The first thing I saw was gone was my camera," she says. "For me, that was something that was really important.... It's something that I researched and saved for forever."
A laptop, an Xbox, two cameras, a lens, a television and more were all gone.
She felt violated -- and afraid that her belongings weren't safe anymore, she says.
After the incident, "I didn't really leave my house much," she says.
But two weeks later, last month, she went to get lunch and came back to find that burglars had again tried to break into her home and break down her door the same way they had done the first time. They did some damage to the door but didn't get inside this time. Police categorized this as an "attempted burglary," she says.
She has installed an expensive security system, but says she still doesn't feel comfortable -- and is moving out this month to a new place in St. Louis county.
She says that police don't have any suspects in either case -- but she wrote a letter to her burglars anyway, mostly as a way to vent.
"I just wanted to write a note on my door," she says. "After it happened I was just so frustrated."
She sent us the full letter she wrote, which she hopes her suspects will see -- or at the least would discourage others from burglarizing homes.
Here's the letter in full.
To whom it may concern:While I didn't see you kick my door in, the crack forming sends visuals up my spine.
My friend grasping my arm, screaming, holding me in the car may have saved my life, but watching someone walk out of my home, my space, my comfort zone with my belongings will haunt me forever.
Let me explain who I am. I am your neighbor. I was the one that waved good morning, I was the one that brought your kids out cookies while they were waiting for the bus, I was the one that helped your kids push your car into a spot when it died. I was the one that loaned you the marker and let you keep it. I was one of the few people that believed in you and in the neighborhood. I trusted you. I treated everyone with a warm smile. When no one wanted to come visit because of the area, it still felt like home to me. I don't know who you are, but I want you to know you have hurt me in more ways than just taking my possessions.
You have changed who I am because of this.
The detective told me that you may be able to sell my camera for thirty dollars, an item that I researched and saved for over a year to afford. To you, it was easy money; to me, it was part of my income, it was my passion, it was something I worked hard to obtain. I am not a rich woman; obviously you can tell that by the area I live in. I cannot simply replace these things. It will take longer now that I have no way to operate my business other than renting equipment. You couldn't even leave me my back-up camera to get by. As you pushed my father's photograph out of the way to grab them, did you feel nothing?
Continue for the rest of the letter.
