In Las Vegas, no neighborhood is safe from burglary

However, within minutes of driving onto our Summerlin street, the wonderful feeling of restoration — we felt mellow and energized — that comes with three days on the waterfront turned into a high-anxiety downer.

That feeling has yet to leave.

It was Sunday evening as we pulled into our neighborhood near Staton Elementary School. Given we had left lights on as one way of deterring burglars, we were confused when we saw they were off.

After we turned the key in the door — the key, as it turned out, wasn’t needed — we nearly tripped as we entered. Soon after my wife got a flashlight out of the kitchen, we knew what had happened.

We’d been burglarized. It looked like a tornado hit inside. Shaking, my wife dialed 911.

The operator said to leave the house until police arrived — the burglars could still be inside.

I asked a neighbor if she’d seen anything. She hadn’t, but said it was the third time the house was burglarized. On one occasion occupants were home. The owners of the house didn’t reveal its history to us, nor did they have to.

Soon an officer with the Metropolitan Police Department arrived. Then another. Together, they went through the house, yelling to whomever might still be there to “stand down.”

No one was inside.

As we talked with officers — another officer arrived to lift fingerprints — one went to the breaker box and turned on the lights. He theorized the thieves thought there might be an alarm and, not knowing such a device had a battery backup, figured it couldn’t be activated without electricity.

There was no alarm. In fact, officers were surprised by how little security there was in a house burglarized twice before. The door the burglar kicked in had a deadbolt lock secured only to a thin piece of wood, which easily gave way.

Officers said since it was a corner house it was easier for thieves to get onto the grounds unnoticed.

Looking back on that evening — we stayed up the night cleaning — it was the easy part of the burglary.

The aftermath is worse.

Because we’re renting a furnished house — most of our belongings are in storage in Arkansas where we attended grad school— we lost mainly jewelry, checks, passports and important documents, including military discharge papers.

Though we lost a computer holding valuable uncopied manuscripts, what is most difficult now is the time-consuming chore of getting our financial situation in order — and continuing to live at our rental property.

New banking accounts had to be set up. Direct deposits had to be changed. Credit agencies alerted. Ditto for Social Security and the VA.

We should’ve had my wife’s jewelry appraised, gotten renters insurance. Our excuse for not doing it — a cross-country trip to take new jobs didn’t leave time to concentrate on such details — doesn’t wash. We should’ve made time.

As much of a hassle as it is to open and close accounts and get new passports, what wears on us now is remaining in the house where breaking the lease means a large financial hit. My wife won’t enter unless I’m with her. She won’t stay inside by herself. She can’t sleep well, which makes working as a special education teacher more challenging.

Learning another couple was burglarized while in our home — Metro public information officer Michael Rodriguez says burglars frequently re-target a house — has my wife wanting to sleep with a shotgun between us.

Rodriguez says our burglary was one of 276 reported to Metro during September’s first week.

At this rate, around 14,300 burglaries will occur this year — over 14,000 is the norm since 2012 — and that doesn’t include Henderson and North Las Vegas.

Rodriguez showed me on Metro’s crime map that no Las Vegas neighborhood escapes burglaries.

As my wife and I cleaned the ransacked house, she wondered how thousands of Las Vegans deal with this kind of violation year after year:

“Is it too much to ask to feel safe where you live?”

Paul Harasim’s column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Friday in the Nevada section and Monday in the Health section. Contact him at pharasim@reviewjournal.com or 702-387-5273. Follow @paulharasim on Twitter.