Among my favorite radio segments of the last 16 years I’ve been at Minnesota Public Radio is one a small group of talented individuals brought to listeners in the late ’90s: The Streets of Bovey.
The police chief in the small town — Terry Wilkey — died in 1998. Said an MPR story at the time:
Every week or so, Wilkey would write a list of what he’d been up to; items like, “Found an unlocked door at a business. We locked it.” Sometimes, Wilkey talked tough. In one column, he suggested a few nights in the Crowbar motel might straighten out a wrongdoer. Sometimes, details about Wilkey’s life would appear. He wrote about the difficulty he had renting a tux for his daughter’s wedding, because he was such a big man. He complained about what he paid for the wedding, listing the prices of flowers, food, and photographs. Each column began with a suggestion that know-it-alls should not read his words because they might overtax their minds. Each column ended with the advice, “Lock that door and get that license number.”
Though it’s been 10 years since The Streets of Bovey appeared in some fashion, I’m reminded of it today while reading a couple of police log entries in the morning paper.
Lock your door. Get that license number. And take your bags of cash with you.