The Day I Saw More Crime in One Morning Than in Three Years

I had always heard stories about Eugene being a crime-ridden town. But during my first three years at the University of Oregon, that reputation never really matched my experience. The worst I’d seen were stolen bike seats, busted locks, and the occasional loud argument drifting out of an alley. Nothing that ever felt personal.

That changed on a Sunday that started out completely ordinary.

I slept in, like most Sundays, and planned to meet my friend Craig at the rec fields to play soccer. When I stepped outside to grab my bike, something immediately felt off. The lock was still there—but snapped, hanging uselessly from the rack. The bike was gone.

What made it worse was that it wasn’t even mine. I was borrowing my friend Matt’s bike while mine sat back home with a broken axle. Mine had always been so beat up that no one bothered with it. I used to joke that it was too worthless to steal.

Apparently, I wasn’t lucky enough to test that theory anymore.

I walked to the rec fields instead.

Craig was already there when I arrived, and we started passing the ball around like normal. For a few minutes, it almost felt like nothing had happened.

Then Craig stopped mid-play.

His gym bag was gone.

We scanned the area until he spotted someone walking down the street with it. Craig took off after him and managed to get it back without much of a fight. The guy barely reacted—just looked dazed, like he wasn’t fully plugged into what was happening.

We stood there for a moment, trying to shake it off.

Then we heard shouting from across the field.

A kid was sprinting and yelling that someone had stolen his wallet. We turned in time to see a disheveled man cutting across the grass with the kid chasing him. Before we could fully process it, a police car drove onto the field, an officer jumped out, and tackled the man right there on the turf.

Craig and I just looked at each other.

We called it a day.

I ended up paying Matt back for the bike.