On Thursday, March 14, 2024, at 11:00am, [REDACTED] and I (Josh Collison) were scheduled to perform an in-home energy audit for [REDACTED] customers, [REDACTED]. Their address is [REDACTED], and their phone number is [REDACTED].
[REDACTED]
and I were on time for our appointment, and [REDACTED] met us at the door, and invited
us inside.
From the very beginning of our time together, Mrs. [REDACTED] exhibited
signs of confusion as to why [REDACTED]
and I were even there. [REDACTED]’s
questions for his paperwork were all non-starters, as the customer was unable
to finish a…
Literally, the words would not come. She would hunt for them
in her mind, and with her face contorted in frustration, she would appear on
the edge of either weeping or screaming… She kept making statements like “Oh… I
don’t know… I’m crazy”, or “I just don’t know anymore…”
This was the whole appointment. She had major
issues with her high gas and electric usages, but was unable to participate in
the necessary conversation to discuss these issues. Her clothes iron was on
“High” the whole time we were there, but I could not explain that it was things
like this that were contributing to her high bill. It was literally impossible
to meaningfully address the inefficiency issues that were taking place.
At one point, [REDACTED]
had to use the restroom, and while Mrs. [REDACTED] and I were alone, I asked her “Do you have any
children or anybody who comes by and checks on you, or helps you out with
things?” “No”, she simply replied, shaking her head, as she shuffled down the
hallway.
When we arrived in the next room, I looked and noticed that
Mrs. [REDACTED]
had a pool of blood forming on the top of her right forearm. It was about the
size of a silver dollar, approximately 1/16” deep already, and just sitting
there getting larger. She was unaware of it, so gently I reached out and cradled
the under-part of her forearm, wanting to help her, and asked “Ma’am, do you
know you are bleeding?”
Almost unfazed, she just took the pointer-finger on her left
arm and started dabbing it up, licking it off her finger. Thankfully, at this
moment, [REDACTED]
was just returning, and quickly grabbed some toilet paper from the bathroom for
her to stop the bleeding.
After going back outside to get things from our vans, all of
this was hitting me really hard. I could change a couple of her lightbulbs, and
install some pipe wrap, and then what? Leave???
I was breaking down, almost getting to hyperventilation, and
unable to hold back the tears. But I tried to pull myself together, and went to
talk to [the other technician], [REDACTED].
I told him that I wanted to reach out to the local community center to see if
there were any programs for senior citizens in the area, or anybody that this
elderly couple could connect with.
(Screenshot of call log will be attached.) [REDACTED
FROM THIS POSTING]
At 11:31am, I called the [REDACTED] Township Community Center, at [REDACTED]. After
explaining the situation, I was transferred from the receptionist to someone
else, though unfortunately I do not recall their name. I re-explained
everything, and let them know that I was looking to see if there were any
resources in the area that could be helpful for Mr. and Mrs. [REDACTED].
The person I was speaking with seemed friendly, and very
willing to help, and mentioned that they actually have someone who works
specifically with senior citizens, but that this person had just stepped out of
the office.
She asked the address of the home, presumably (I thought)
so that she could see what agencies or benefits might be applicable to this
location. I gave the address to her, and in retrospect, I know that I should
not have done this. But at the time, it seemed harmless…
She then said that she would do some checking and call me
right back.
While I waited for the phone call, I was able to change two
outdoor lightbulbs and put on some pipe wrap in the basement.
As I was finishing the pipe wrap, the person from the [REDACTED] Township
Community Center called me back.
She said that she had a “resource officer” (I believe this
was the terminology) that was going to stop by and do a wellness check on Mr.
and Mrs. [REDACTED].
This was not a request on her part – she had already put it into motion.
At that moment, I told her WHOAH: I have not even
spoken to the customer yet to see if she wants additional help. I just
wanted to see what might be available, and then offer it to the customer, then
put the two into contact with one another. It seemed highly
inappropriate to force something on someone who does not want it.
It sounded clear that this officer was going to come
regardless, so I asked for the phone number of the person who wanted to stop
by. I was told that I was not allowed to have the officer’s cell phone number. This
was understandable, so I asked if they could please call me before
coming by. The person at the community center said that they would text my
number to the officer, and have them call me. It seemed that this phone call
would happen before any action was taken, so I went upstairs to talk to Mrs. [REDACTED], earnestly hoping
that she would want additional help.
It took a very long time to get there, but in the end, [REDACTED] wants her
independence. “I like to do my own things”, she said. She does all her own
yardwork (a HUGE, well-kept, pristine place in the country), she takes care of
her sick husband, who is either in his bed, or just sitting in a chair, unable
to do anything – he did not speak a word, the whole time that [REDACTED] and I were
there. “He likes it warm…”, she kept reminiscing about him, with a sweet smile
on her face.
While I wished that Mrs. [REDACTED] would have said, “Yes, please,
have them come”, I was in awe of her strength. Her home was clean, her grass
and her gardens appeared professionally groomed, and her country music played
low and slow. She also noted that she does have “Some ladies from church” that
she could call, if she needed help.
So, as I was expecting a phone call from the resource officer
before they did anything, I was going to tell them not to come, and explain to
them that the [REDACTED]’s
do not want to connect at this time. Note that I did not mention
anything about an officer stopping by to Mrs. [REDACTED], as this would have just stirred
up already-muddy water. It seemed that I was probably going to be able to halt
the whole thing before it got any bigger.
But as [REDACTED]
and I were literally starting our vehicles outside, ready to leave, two [REDACTED] County
Sheriff’s Office vehicles pulled into the driveway. Large black SUV’s with
lights on top (not activated), and a Sheriff's Office logo on the side door.
They pulled up, obstructing [REDACTED]
and I from being able to exit the long driveway.
Initially, it seemed that the officers were under the
impression that [REDACTED]
and I were out cold-calling or trying to sell things to customers. But I went
through the whole scenario from beginning to present with the officers, and
they came to understand what was going on.
I told them that I was supposed to receive a phone call
before anybody even stopped by or called the [REDACTED] family, but they did not care.
This was their scene now, and they were going to go do a welfare check,
regardless of whether I or the [REDACTED]’s
wanted it.
In distress, I told them that I am representing [Company
Name] [REDACTED],
and now it looks like [REDACTED]
called the police on a poor old couple. They assured me that I did “The
right thing”, and that they were just going to talk to Mrs. [REDACTED], and that
probably a social worker would try to connect with the family, and help them
further.
A lot more was probably said, as I recall pleading with the
officers to be ever-so-gentle with Mrs. [REDACTED]. I just wanted to give her a hug, and get her
some help. I wanted a little old lady from the Community Center with a
clipboard to come by and have tea with her, to see if there was help available.
It would have taken a needle, some thread, and some love. But they sent in dump
trucks with concrete and jackhammers.
Honestly, I do not know if I did the “right thing” or not.
Leaving nightlights and a fancy water purification pitcher is nice, but not
when someone needs so much more. Having two uniformed officers with firearms
show up was off the charts NOT what was supposed to happen.
As you may notice, if you look at my call log [not in this
posting], I tried to call one of the officers at 4:27pm, before [REDACTED] and I’s 5pm
appointment, to see how the welfare check turned out. I wanted to know that
Mrs. [REDACTED]
was not shaken up, and that she was not upset – if this is even possible after
such a situation.
The officer did not answer, and I left a voicemail. If I
receive any reply, I will update this thread. I may also try to reach out to
the other officer, though I do not have her information. She seemed much more
down to earth, calm and connected, and I am really hoping that she did most of
the talking with Mrs. [REDACTED].
The officer whose information that I do have is: [REDACTED], Deputy Sheriff. (Phone and
email: [REDACTED]).
In contrast, when [REDACTED]
exited his cruiser, his chest was puffed, he never smiled, and never
warmed up even a little bit, even after hearing about the heartbreaking
situation.
From there, [REDACTED]
and I had no other option than to just leave the home, hoping that things did
not turn from bad to worse. Immediately, as [REDACTED] and I got onto the main road, I
pulled over and told him that I needed to make some phone calls, and started
trying to frantically call managers.
I felt like I just pushed the button to bomb Hiroshima and
drove away, and I still do not know how to feel. My only possible consolation
is that maybe Mrs. [REDACTED]’s
faint memory will wash this away like it was nothing, and that maybe they will
get some extra help.
Their gas usage last month was approximately 39 MCF, and
their home was not very large, seeming well built, and well insulated. This
number should be less than half of that, but I could not even explain this.
Their electric usage was also incredibly high all year long, but not possible
to address.
I just wanted someone who could help get this under control.
Someone who could schedule a maintenance call for the furnace. Someone who
could reach out every now and then, just to check in. To mow the grass, tell Mrs.
[REDACTED] how
delicious her cookies are, or simply give her a hug.
This upsetting situation brings me no comfort at the moment,
but that is where things are at. Now, I can only hope for the best, and that a
positive outcome will take place.
-Joshua K Collison
Friday, March 15, 2024
