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“Within minutes, just about everybody in town knew what was going on,” says Mayor Raymond Briggs, who was No. 8 on Michelle’s call list. “A grey Dodge truck was parked on Prairie Avenue with three guys standing outside of it, walking around. Levi Gross was up and saw the truck and didn’t think it should be there.”

What Levi thought, in fact, was what everybody in Briercrest has been thinking for months, which is: we are sick and tired of being targeted by two-bit criminals preying on our village, preying on the fact we keep our doors unlocked because bad things never happen here. Or at least they didn’t happen, until sometime before Christmas, when a rash of break-ins and car thefts led to a Briercrest, Sask community meeting on April 28 where The Plan — and the telephone list — were hatched and a solemn pledge among neighbours made that the next time thieves rolled into their town the town would roll out of bed to greet them.

“We decided we’d make it an uncomfortable experience for anybody looking to steal from here,” Mr. Briggs says.

Meanwhile, in the wee morning hours, the RCMP was called and said to be on its way. The shadowy figures from the pick-up truck, presumably after hearing the hubbub and seeing all the houselights switch on, fled on foot down a water-filled ditch, disappearing into a stand of trees.

Maybe they thought they were going to get away. Maybe they thought, phew, we are in the clear. Clearly they didn’t know who they were messing with. Briercrest is an old farming community where people sink roots deep and do well by their neighbours by always looking out for a neighbour in need. Mowing a lawn here, feeding a pet there, picking up a hammer and helping bang together a shed, or some other project. The community project, on Friday morning, involved forming a posse and catching three allegedly bad seeds.