Life in the Burbs

So I have a quick story about life in the suburbs of Houston, TX.  We live in a very peaceful and very safe neighborhood.  It is so safe in fact, that I find myself doing what I've heard people only did way back when in Mayberry--I often leave the doors unlocked when we're gone (I obviously trust you dear readers to tell you that :)  And we never lock the doors when we're home unless we're sleeping.
Last night, having just finished dinner, we were all in the kitchen together.  I was at the sink when I heard the girls say something about seeing Grandpa coming.  I knew that wasn't possible so I paid no attention until I turned around to find a complete stranger, a dark-haired white man with glasses standing behind me looking in at us.  I think my brain registered "strange man" and was sifting through its catalogue for the page in the mommy handbook on "what to do if a strange man comes into your kitchen uninvited" when I saw Chris get up out of his chair with what I can only call a stern growl.  He told the man to leave immediately and backed him out of the kitchen through the laundry room, out the back door and onto the driveway.  It was obvious by his slow response and slurred speech that the man was drunk.
So... Chris was out on the driveway with the drunk guy, the girls were upset and I was wondering what exactly I should do if the guy tried to kill my husband.  My gut was telling me that calling the police might be an overreaction but I did it anyway.
Have you ever called 911?  I think this was my first time and it was a very good thing that no one was lying on our floor dying of a heart attack.  It took them about five rings to answer.  Then, after I told my story to that person, she transferred me and I had to tell it all over again plus answer a bunch of questions.  I hope their system is a little more streamlined for, say, victims of drive-by shootings.
As it turned out, the guy was a friend of our neighbors' who, being so falling down drunk, had wandered into the wrong house.  He kept telling Chris his name and started crying at one point because he couldn't express what he wanted to say.  I honestly felt bad for him--and I like our neighbors so that is that.
The one thing that will always stand out in my mind about this though is Chris' immediate reaction to protect all of his girls.  Fierce.  I love him.  And life in suburbia.  How exciting.

11/18/2011
A P.S. to this story:  My neighbor came to apologize.  She was very embarrassed although she was not in any way responsible for what happened.  It turns out that "Bill" worked with her late husband.  They had not seen him in a year and she had had to call a male friend to help her deal with him that night.  Chris felt a little bad when he heard that.  Bill apparently felt bad too because he bought us a ham.  The ham of penance.  I'd prefer a solemn promise to stay off the road when intoxicated.  This has made me even more nervous about letting my oldest babe behind the wheel.  Precious girl.  Dangerous world.  A lot to pray about.