In late August the FBI indeed raided the duplex next door to us. We were out. We got home to, like, twenty unmarked police vehicles, lights on in every room, agents in vests reading FBI and IRS-CID rummaging through the dressers and closets (all visible through the open curtains 10' away from our bedroom). We were only told we had no cause for concern at that point. No info about the raid (big surprise).
However.
Last week the matter became considerably more public:
Like here.And here.Also here.Plus this.And this So. A drug trafficker connected to the local Crips ... excuse me ... an alleged drug trafficker connected to the local Crips was living next door, and moving $300,000 of cocaine through a month. It'd be easy to say something like, "You know, I always wondered what was up there. I knew they were up to something." Technically I did wonder what was up, but not really any more so than with any other neighbor. In fact, I met one of the guys supposed to be involved, Larry Matthews. He seemed neighborly. I had no idea. If indeed the whole thing turns out to be what it seems to be I can't honestly say anything other than I thought one of the younger folks next door needed to stop using our back yard as a path to the street.
I realize my house is on a relatively major street, but the neighborhood's not terribly bad. Next door? Really?