JFDP - Reflections of Eurasian Scholars

“Trouble” was what happened during our first month in the USA. We were having a house-warming party at my place, as I got an apartment close to the campus, while the rest of the scholars were on a waiting list. Of course, all the scholars from the Center were invited. It was not until midnight that we realized that we did not know how the guests could get back to their apartments, which were quite a distance from my new place.  In the daytime, there was a bus service, and we were not aware of the limitations of the public transportation in Knoxville.

The bus that brought them to my place had stopped running at 8 p.m., and no other public transportation was available after 10 p.m. No one had a car or a driving license. We needed to find a way out of the situation. Then, two of the girls recalled a piece of information that sounded like a revelation and a good way out. Somebody told them that calling 911 could bring a van service to the door of the student housing. So one of the bravest girls decided to be a contact person, dialing these magic digits. To her and our surprise the voice answered: “Police."  Our friend hung up, not knowing what to say. We needed a van service! We made several attempts to dial the same number that seemed to be our salvation, instead, we heard the same greeting “Police.” Thinking that this was not what we needed, we decided to get out of the apartment to look for somebody who might have a car and could give the guests a ride to their place.

But as soon as we came out of the apartment, we saw about 10 policemen crawling along the wall, armed with guns, with intent to break into my apartment, which we had just left, in response to multiple calls to the police. They thought that somebody was kidnapped and could not talk! However, the police, seeing our festive mood and our friendly disposition, combined with our genuine surprise at the scene, put down the guns to negotiate with us peacefully. After listening to our explanation, the police officers, as friendly as they could be, offered our girls a ride. Several fine looking girls climbed in. It was a solution, except their car had a very low entrance with bars (to make it difficult for suspects to escape). Well, it was not a limo, but it was a service we needed and appreciated.  The officers had a chuckle, escorting “Slavic beauties” to the police car. For a quiet southern town we were exotic and brought a high degree of novelty.

The next morning, the first thing we saw in the lobby of the housing were flyers with information about van service, its hours, and telephone numbers (that were not there before and were different from the number we were dialing).  And… the local newspaper published a small note in a crime log section about the incident (Thank goodness, not accident! No names were mentioned, either). I still have a clip of this note somewhere in my papers, as a souvenir from those days and our first encounter with the U.S. police, which turned out to be very friendly and helpful under circumstances.