The Larson Family

You never know when you’re going to have an encounter with something (or someone) strange.

In 2004, Becky and I were leaving McDonalds in North Fargo. We were waiting for the traffic on University Drive to clear when we saw a guy go by us in a brown minivan. As he went by, he looked at Becky and pantomimed sticking his finger up his nose. She looked at me and said “Did you see that?”

After the traffic cleared, we pulled out onto University, and purely by chance, we caught up with him at a stoplight a couple blocks away. The light was red, and he was right in front of us. The light turned green, and he left the light extremely slow… half a block later he was still only going about fifteen miles per hour. So I casually pulled into the other lane to pass him, and just as I was moving into the other lane, he changed too, trying to stay in front of me.

So I pulled back into my original lane and stepped on it. Just as I was about half a car length behind him, I’ll be damned if he didn’t start coming back into our lane again. He was trying to run me off the road! I stepped on it, nearly clipped the curb trying to avoid getting sideswiped. I managed to clear his bumper by the time he came all the way back into my lane.

I pulled out my cell phone to dial 911. I help it out the window so he could see it — so he knew I was calling the cops. He immediately turned. I went around the block to get behind him and followed him for a couple blocks as I spoke to the operator and gave her the guy’s license plate number. She then had me pull over in a parking lot so I could meet up with an officer.

A few minutes later, an officer shows up, and he has this skeptical look on his face — like I’m some kind of road rager who somehow instigated this. He asked me what happened and I explained. He asked me what the guy looked like. I said, “He was kind of an overweight guy, brown hair, bald on the top but frizzy on the sides… like Bozo the Clown.” And then the cop said, “Oh! I think I know the guy you’re talking about. Kind of an eraserhead-type guy?” And I said, “Yes, that’s the guy.”

The officer said the guy lived a couple blocks away and asked us to wait a few minutes until he returned. So we waited. A few minutes later, the cop comes back and he says, “Yeah that’s the guy.”

He then went on to explain that this guy, Seely was his name, was well-known to the Fargo Police. He’s evidently mentally ill, schizophrenia or something. The cop explained that he has a problem with the color red, so he may have had a problem with our vehicle, a red Jeep Grand Cherokee, or maybe even Becky, since she’s a redhead. He said the guy lives across from a catholic school where all the kids wear red shirts, and he had a problem with that too. He seemed to think anybody associated with the color red was somehow evil or out to get him.

To make a long story short, the officer went to his house and issued him a ticket for reckless driving. He said if the guy pleads not guilty, you may have to testify. Well they never called us to testify, so he must have plead guilty. And that story was nearly forgotten until the other night — I went in the convenience store, and there he was, harrassing a cashier. After he left she told me, “When he’s not on his meds…” I assured her I knew all about Mr. Seely.

I guess the upside is, this encounter gave me a great idea for a screenplay. So if I ever make it as a screenwriter, I’ll owe a little inspiration to crazy Mr. Seely.