Trust in humankind

We arrived in Lisbon with an hour to spare before our train to Porto. We found a cafe at the ground level, and I went off to find a way to get up three levels to the train platform. No elevators were working that day. All of the ground level escalators going up were closed for maintenance. What a welcome to Portugal!

I found a way to get all eight bags to the platform about 15 minutes before our scheduled train departure. When we stood up to go, I realized that one of my suitcases was missing: it was a small carry-on containing my laptop and my 500 Gb external hard drive, as well as my favorite pajamas. I quickly made a mental inventory of what I had on my PC. It contained everything I've ever written, plus more than 7,000 contacts and thousands of photos. Wow. While I was upset, and baffled that we could have somehow missed a thief making off with my bag, I took a moment to relax, take some deep breaths, and try to make sense of what to do in our few minutes remaining in Lisbon.

I decided that I had either published, printed, saved, or sent everything that I cared about on my PC. I could recreate my archive somehow. And the rest is stored in the cloud. Back in my Boy Scout days as a leader, we used to say that the snakebite doesn't kill you; it is running to the hospital that drives the venom to your heart. So, instead of running to the Police, I chose to let things run their course. I had no idea how this might turn out, but I was sure I did not want to get into a ransom negotiation in Portuguese! And we had a train to catch.

Later that day, after we arrived in Porto (3 hours by high speed train), I checked my phone for messages. There was a stranger who showed up in my WhatsApp about 10 minutes after our train had departed Lisbon. All three messages had been deleted. That made me very suspicious. I knew my bag was locked as TSA does this after checking it. But there was a metal tag with only my last name displayed attached to the handle. If someone knew how to remove it, they could have seen my phone number too. And to have a WhatsApp profile, you have to reveal your phone number. It was someone named Norman. No other information, except a picture of a guy on a paddleboard.

Very late that night, I received three phone calls from a Portuguese number in rapid succession. No name attached, and no messages left. I decided not to engage. I was sure I did not want to engage with someone in a foreign country without a lot more information about the caller. I did not tell my fellow travelers and decided to sleep on what I knew so far. I did not sleep well. I had suffered a huge loss!

In the morning, I shared what I knew and asked the advice of my wife and two fellow travelers. We were all very perplexed by what we knew so far. I took some more deep breaths, and decided not to call the police while we were in Porto. We took our river cruise that day, and I decided that when we returned to Lisbon, I would go to the police with the information I had. I felt that if there was a ransom engagement, I wanted the police speaking (in Portuguese) on my behalf. Meanwhile, I "let it go," giving my fate to the Universe.

On the third day, we returned to Lisbon where we planned to be tourists for several days. Before we left the train station, I took my wife's small suitcase that is the same size as mine in a different color. I found the police station and approached the officer standing at the entrance. I told him what I knew, and showed him the bag. He asked to see my phone - with the picture of this "Norman" on WhatsApp. I handed him my phone. "I know this guy," he said. "What?" I said. "How is that possible?" He told me, "He is an officer on our force. Wait right here." In 30 seconds, he returned rolling my bag! I was incredulous. I asked, "how did you find it?" He told me that the thief had abandoned it at a gas station 1/4 mile away from the train station, next to the urban bus station. The gas station called the police, and within minutes they had scanned and secured my bag. It had never been opened. Wow.

Later that day, I had a brief WhatsApp conversation with my hero Norman. He had removed the luggage tag, matched my last name with my US phone number, and taken the bold step to send me a WhatsApp message. Since I did not reply, he deleted the messages. I asked him why. "That is our policy. If there is no reply, we assume that the name and phone do not match, and we are not allowed to reveal what we know, so the messages were deleted." "And what about the phone calls? Were these from you as well?" He confirmed that it was his number, but from a different number than he uses for his WhatsApp profile. So that mystery was solved! It was Norman all along trying to reach me.

I told him how grateful I was for the return of my bag and offered a reward. He said "you do not owe me anything. This is my job." He put it very simply. And imagine how I felt! After feeling the sting of being robbed, this public servant acted swiftly and bravely, to retrieve my bag. This whole experience strengthens my trust in humankind. Our faith in public servants and law enforcement is an often-silent relationship that is stronger than we might imagine. End of story.