I rolled out of bed at about 11 o'clock a.m., thinking it would be a normal day in my new home — Oakland. Yawning, and a little bit groggy, I nevertheless was the first one up in this house of five. I walked over and gave Kurt a kick to get him up and was on my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I heard a loud knocking at the door.

Bang-bang-bang-bang.

I figured it was the monitor I'd ordered. I didn't think it would arrive before tomorrow, but it was the only thing I could think of. I started to head downstairs to the door, walking casually. The knock pounded at the door again.

Bang-bang-bang-bang.

Thinking I would soon meet the most ethusiastic delivery guy on the face of the planet, I hollered "I'm coming." So, clad only in my boxers and a tee-shirt, I strolled up to the door and glanced out the window.

And there they were - four burly men, dressed in flack jackets, with dangerous-looking handguns pointed up in the air. "Police. Open the door!" These boys meant business.

Holy shit, I thought, do I open the door? Of course I do. They have guns. Should I warn the guys upstairs? I didn't know what the hell to do, but you don't argue with a 9mm. Stunned, I opened the door...

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