Life in a warzone
Exactly one week ago Laura and I heard a teenager gunned down on the street a block from our apartment. There were six quick shots, one after another, but there was nothing altogether distinctive about the sound. It could have been fireworks except there was something about the spacing of the shots that put me on edge. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later ambulance and police sirens started blaring through the neighborhood from every direction. The block literally no more than 50 meters from our apartment was cordoned off with yellow police tape. A small crowd gathered and gawked at the scene. I glimpsed the awfulness from the vantage point of our living room window and briefly from right outside our front door to see how far away the shooting had occured. Not far enough for comfort. I didn't linger but I was completely shocked by how blase some of our neighbors seemed to be.
The next day I left work early to head back to my apartment to pick up some things for a weekend trip to New Hampshire (to run a 200+ mile relay with some friends, more on that in another entry). On the way back from the subway I stopped to talk to one of the swarm of police officers who had descended on the neighborhood to conduct an investigation. He seemed much more interested in chatting about fishing and hunting but in the end let out that although noone knew what had motivated the shooting yet the police suspected it was drug related. When I asked what we should do to keep safe he suggested we avoid buying drugs - easy enough - and when we heard shots to duck. Thanks officer friendly. Also, a second young man had been shot that afternoon about six block from our apartment in the opposite direction. Almost certainly a revenge shooting.
The good news is neither Laura or I have heard gunshots since and neither of us have ever felt threatened in the slightest in our neighborhood. Somehow though that is of very little solace after someone is shot on the street early in the night (just after 8pm) a stone's throw from your doorstep. It will take a long time to restore my sense of safety and security if that is even possible now. In retrospect maybe we were just naive. But then what's up with this?
New York City may be the safest big city in the U.S. just not in the six block radius around my apartment apparently.
The next day I left work early to head back to my apartment to pick up some things for a weekend trip to New Hampshire (to run a 200+ mile relay with some friends, more on that in another entry). On the way back from the subway I stopped to talk to one of the swarm of police officers who had descended on the neighborhood to conduct an investigation. He seemed much more interested in chatting about fishing and hunting but in the end let out that although noone knew what had motivated the shooting yet the police suspected it was drug related. When I asked what we should do to keep safe he suggested we avoid buying drugs - easy enough - and when we heard shots to duck. Thanks officer friendly. Also, a second young man had been shot that afternoon about six block from our apartment in the opposite direction. Almost certainly a revenge shooting.
The good news is neither Laura or I have heard gunshots since and neither of us have ever felt threatened in the slightest in our neighborhood. Somehow though that is of very little solace after someone is shot on the street early in the night (just after 8pm) a stone's throw from your doorstep. It will take a long time to restore my sense of safety and security if that is even possible now. In retrospect maybe we were just naive. But then what's up with this?
New York City may be the safest big city in the U.S. just not in the six block radius around my apartment apparently.