This is known as understatement.

You want a place to hide from the modern era’s crime and anxiety? How does this sound? Two years ago in Manchester, they had 61 serious crimes.

For the whole year.

Naturally, everybody in town agreed this was far too many, so a year ago they did better. Only 56 serious crimes. That includes rape, robbery, burglary, aggravated assault, theft, car theft, you name it: add ’em all up, and it still comes to 56.

Of course, it doesn’t include homicide — since there were none.

“Manchester’s like the rest of Carroll County,” says Kasten.

In other words, there’s not much crime. Last year, the county had the lowest crime rate of any jurisdiction in the state: 1.8 serious crimes for every 1,000 residents. Baltimore city’s rate was 6.5, Anne Arundel’s 4.2, Baltimore County’s 4.1, Howard 2.8, Harford 2.4.

“You can look across the board,” says Kasten, “and statistically, 80 to 85 percent of the crime in Manchester is theft of electronic valuables, or tools left in open yards or unlocked vehicles or open homes.”

Open homes? In the modern era, this is a concept that no longer computes for those of us who have made burglar alarm companies a major growth industry.

“We did have one robbery this year,” Gall says. “But no homicides or rapes or serious person crimes. We had eight burglaries in the spring, over in Whispering Valley. But it was one person who committed all eight, and we got him. That was the bulk of our major crimes this year. Oh, and 24 thefts. Like the Santa theft.”

Santa and the snow ornaments were pilfered early Monday. At 4:30 in the morning, a resident called police to report a loud noise.

 Maybe it was Santa, screaming for help. Another resident, walking her dog, reported several of her own holiday ornaments gone.

A witness identified Markert, and when police arrived at her York Street residence, they found an estimated $360 worth of ornaments from the two victims’ homes, plus a third home. Police charged Markert with three counts of misdemeanor theft, and later released her on $3,000 bond.

“Unfortunate,” Gall says. 

He’s been in Manchester for seven years. He spent the previous 23 years as a Baltimore policeman. When he points out there were only 56 crimes last year in Manchester, he has a sense of perspective: 56 crimes? That’s like a slow Saturday night in the city.

“Yeah, yeah, big difference,” he said.

Not that anybody’s comparing the two places, though. Manchester’s entire police force is six people. And there’s nobody on the job at night, when Carroll County police and state police keep an eye on the town.

“But we’ve got a lot of experience in those six people, and we’ve got real good cooperation with the other agencies,” Gall says. “We all try to get out in the community. And the rest is just good, old-fashioned police work.”

Manchester looks like a Norman Rockwell painting sprung to life. The whole town’s just under 2 square miles. There are lots of big, old clapboard homes. The accent’s on the word “old.” The median year a home was built in Manchester was 1939 — about 30 years older than the median U.S. home.

But there’s new housing in the northern and southern ends of town, Gall points out. And, since the 2000 census, the town population has grown from 3,329 to 4,711.

“Yup,” says Gall. “Checked the figure this morning.”

There’s not much business in town: a couple of little family restaurants, a bank, a food store, a liquor store, a couple of gas stations, a towing company, a funeral home.

“We just added a second elementary school,” Gall says, “and they’re building a high school, too. We’re growing.”

With growth will come more crime. It’s inevitable. And, in Manchester, they’ll look back on the good old days when some grinch swiped a Santa Claus and everybody considered it a crime wave.