That time I was an armed security guard for a Hollywood producer's ...

That time I was an armed guard blog thumbnail.jpg

Apparently one way to ensure I participate in a contest is to use my suggestion for it...LOL!

And my suggestion that was picked up by the awesome folks in charge of the Silver Bloggers community was for this week's Blog of the Week theme that essentially states...

Tell us something about yourself that sounds like a lie, but it's actually the truth

More than a few examples came to mind (which, after all, is the one of the reasons I suggested it in the first place), but I decided to go with the tidbit above. I suppose I should elaborate a bit on my title though... 😄

That time I was an armed security guard for a Hollywood producer's home

Back in the early 90s, my husband and I were living in New Hampshire, but still working for my father's alarm company (installation, repair, and 24 hour monitoring) in my hometown of Gloucester, MA. During late October of 1991, we'd helped evacuate my parents from the apartment they were renting on the backshore (aka, right in the path of The Perfect Storm) to my older sister's house, and went home to ride out the bad weather.

In the immediate aftermath, my father called to ask if we'd be able to help out one of our alarm customers, who also lived on the backshore. Their home had been particularly hard hit and since the electricity was out, the alarm system was useless. And given that the property was owned by a Hollywood producer/writer/director, he was a bit concerned about looting.

Given the extent of the storm's destruction, it's no surprise that there wasn't a security guard (armed or otherwise) available pretty much anywhere in New England. However, a couple years prior, my husband and I had gone through a gun safety course and were both licensed to carry in Massachusetts.

(which was a difficult thing to do back in the late 80s - those were the days that the local police chief could put your applications in his top drawer and ignore them for months if he felt like it... not saying that might've happened to us, and that it took a phone call from my father saying something like, "my daughter runs the monitoring station by herself overnight and my son-in-law responds to alarm activations & gets to the property before the officers - do you want to continue to stall their approvals?"... nope, not saying that at all 😂)

The aforementioned customer (who I'll call Rick) knew my father was licensed to carry and asked if he'd be able to babysit his million dollar property overnight when the cleanup crews had left, until the electricity was back on. My dad said he couldn't, but he'd see if we were able to do it as we were already supposed to come down to cover some monitoring shifts. A short time later, we were headed back down to Gloucester. That first night, I went to the monitoring station to spell my dad so he could get some sleep, and Jim watched the property himself.

The following afternoon, we both headed over and Rick's PA walked us around the property (again for Jim, first time ever for me) and told us a few things to watch out for.

Things I recall from that walkthrough -

seeing the watermark almost as tall as I was, on the great hall walls from where the ocean has roared through during the storm
all the movie memorabilia, which was mostly (and luckily) in rooms on the second floor
how much effort was being put into salvaging things like a large wool rug - for example, the large crews of people gently sopping up water & drying the rug on racks with big fans run by generators
while the neighbors weren't far, the location felt like it was a million miles from civilization, a feeling exacerbated a bazillion times over in the dead of night

backshore 1.jpg Not entirely sure this is the actual property, but it's in the general vicinity.

backshore 2.jpg A more zoomed out look at the area - the mini castle/manor home was somewhere near the bottom left side of the peninsula. Both images via Google Maps

We watched the property a total of 3 nights, and were paid handsomely for our effort. Especially since the PA misheard Jim's quoted price of $20/hour as $28/hour, and after we told the owners we'd been overpaid, they said it was money well spent and not to worry about it.

(of course, they were the same people to "fire" my father the following year after a misunderstanding over a $200 bill. It was especially infuriating to me as my father had actually undercharged them for the work he'd done.🤦‍♀)

My strongest memory of the experience (besides that scary/spooky/exhilarating feeling of walking around an oceanside property with a wicked castle manor vibe to it in near total darkness) was walking into the kitchen after my first overnight there. I'd just finished my final walk around the edge of the property, and came in to find my husband, Rick, and his wife all leaning on the counters, having coffee and chatting. Rick looked up and saw me, smiled, then with a startled look he quickly backed up a few steps, exclaiming, "Oh my god!"

I asked what was wrong. He motioned to my shoulder holster (containing my Ruger SP101, for those inquiring minds) and answered something to the effect of, "Well, I expected your husband to be carrying a gun, but I didn't expect to see you packing!"