A funny thing happened last weekend when I was in Philadelphia. I was scared. Not scared-scared, but nervous. Being in a city that had over 100 murders before April 1 can do that sometimes. Well, maybe I should qualify that “scared.” As I walked around West, I didn’t actually think anything was going to happen, but I was very conscious of the fact that something could jump off at any moment.
While I was driving around, I kinda reflected on the whole experience a little bit. Number one, I had to concede the fact that a lot of that nervousness is probably due to the fact that I’ve let the numbers gas my head up. I don’t think it was ever this wild when I lived there, but it was never exactly sweet, and I used to stay walking around what some folks might describe as sketchy neighborhoods in the middle of the night. Well actually, some of the places I used to walk around went right past sketchy, right into downright dangerous. But again, I was never scared. Not in some super-tuff I’m-so-bad sense, I’ve just always believed that if I’m supposed to get it, there’s nothing I can do to avoid it. If I’m not supposed to get it, then I won’t. But when I look at the website of the Inquirer and see the staggering number of murders, it’s hard not to be a little nervous. Moreover, the number of murders doesn’t even address the people who got shot and didn’t die. All those people who were shot into being quadriplegic and paraplegic don’t get mentioned in the blurbs. It wasn’t hard to remember the times I saw the silver flash when a stickup happened to the next man as I walked by, or when I heard young boys out there shooting the stop signs on the corner.
At the same time, I had to acknowledge to myself that a lot of my nervousness has to do with the fact that I don’t live in Philly anymore. There’s a degree to which being in a place means knowing the rhythm of that place. Things that look dangerous to an outsider might not even be worth noticing to a resident. Certainly, the fact that where I live now is fairly suburban has dulled my city reflexes somewhat. Who knows, maybe if I still lived in West Philly I would be nervous walking around, but I doubt it. West wasn’t just where I lived, it was home. I even felt fairly comfortable walking around North. (South Philly, on the other hand, I never did really fool with. I went down there to see my boys and that was about it.)
I can’t find the link any more, but I remember reading where one officer hypothesized that the increase in murders is due in part to the fact that the criminals are using larger-caliber weapons. It’s one thing to get shot with a .22. Getting blasted by a .45 is something altogether different - and more deadly.
UPDATE
Maybe I wasn’t as off as I thought I was. According to philly.com , 52nd and Market is the most dangerous corner in the city.
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When I visited Philly, the future Mrs. D.S. kept saying that I was too relaxed and I had to be careful.
Years of that mess will do something to you.
Last time we were there, something caught me off guard and I jumped. The Mrs. D.S. laughed and clowned me. She then clowned me in front of her family.
I wasn’t happy, especially since SHE is the one hammering “be careful in Philly!”
Man, listen. I ain’t gon’ front, I usually don’t jump at stuff either, but nowadays? When the body count is 108 by 4-8? Ducking is always a reasonable option.
Yeah, but if I were in DC or Baltimore, I wouldn’t have jumped.
That’s the thing. I think it depends on how well you know the rhythm of that place. I usedt to KNOW West Philly, so even when I saw somebody else gettin’ it, I wasn’t really fazed. I just kept it movin. Nowadays, though? I feel like I’m out of synch enough that I might look like the pork chop who should be gettin got.
Geez, two years ago Toronto citizens were freaking out over a record 55 gun murders in a year (not sure what the total murder count was). I understand Toronto’s appreciably biggern Philly — and note the gun murder count dropped back down to usual low 40s number last year — but I guess like you say it’s all still a matter of what you’re used to.
I really hope 100-by-April is really some crazy blip. I did finally manage to finish Freakonomics last year (how could a book so interesting be so boring at the same time?) and the author has an “interesting” theory re why crime rates dropped a while back. I wonder when we’ll dip into China-style procreation controls.
I feel like I’m out of synch enough that I might look like the pork chop who should be gettin got.
Interesting.
My daughter said something similar to me last night when I told her to get off of the cell phone while riding the Light Rail because she needed to be aware of what was going on around her. She said she is aware, but doesn’t want to look like she’s aware.
Exactly. I’m thinking this may relate to the so-called “cool pose,” which may actually prompt a post. But yeah. What you really hafta do is look like you belong there. Before, it was something I wasn’t really even conscious of, because I did belong, or at least I felt like I did. Now? I’m more self-conscious about it.
Not to mention the fact that I wear clothes that actually fit, instead of drapery. But I will admit, on days when I know I’m gonna be walking around West Philly, I do “hood” it up a bit.
on days when I know I’m gonna be walking around West Philly, I do “hood†it up a bit.
When I know I’m going to be in certain parts of Baltimore, I do the same.
In D.C., when I was running the streets, I didn’t go into “those areas” because I was more interested in culture, dancing, eating, sports events, concerts, and chasing women.
Baltimore? I’m visiting friends or family and I’m all around “those” areas.
52nd and Market, huh?
I lived with my aunt and grandmother in the Bronx for a few months in the mid-70s. Whenever we had to take the subway somewhere, I got a long list of don’t-dos, all in an effort to make sure I didn’t call attention to us. More than “fitting in,” it was all about being part of the “woodwork.”
Frank Rizzo once said “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” How true. West Philly is dangerous and it’s not the cement of the sidewalks or the bricks of the buildings. It’s the people. Who are the killers? Who are they killing? why are they killing? Hey, Jesse- a rhyme in time saves nine. Or do you have more pressing issues? Hey Al, Imus is terrorizing the neighborhood. The demographics of the area, the crime rate, and school test scores compared to the pre-Civil Rights Act of 1968 seem to show a backward or downward trend. This is the new silent reality that no one wants to address -apparently because the blame can’t be placed on the usual historical suspects. No one wants to use the “N” word. Nihilism.
The phrase, “guns don’t kill people, people do,” is off. The phrase” should be, “guns kill, people murder.” Killing and murdering are two different things. This phrase is the most accurate and thus it makes guns an issue.
NORTH PHILLY DANGER ZONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i feel u cannon i moved from the hood like 2 years ago and wenever i go back i make sure i no wats good in da hood b4 i even hit da blok