Walking in a war zone

I was out walking the dog last night. I know, I said I wouldn’t do that anymore, but I was hot and bored so I rolled the dice. One shouldn’t have to roll the dice to walk the dog at night, but such is life in the central city.

I made it a whole block and a half before I hit trouble. The ambulance was already rushing the wounded away as the police were cleaning up the mess.

The dog and I continued on to the constant sounds of pops and cracks. Firecrackers? A few weeks ago I guessed wrong and walked up on a gunfight that had just taken place in the house I was passing.

Life is a box of chocolates…

Two blocks into my walk I ran into a man and his two sons. They were standing near the sidewalk in the front yard of their beautifully manicured lawn. The gentleman said “Labrador Poodle, right?”

Right.

My designer dog is big now, but he is very friendly. Sort of defeats the purpose but, whatever. The gentleman and I chit chat for a minute then I say goodbye. As I am walking away the man stops me and asks, “Can you do me a favor?”

"Sure, how can I help you?"

“Will you pray for me…? That little girl? The one that was shot in the head? That’s my daughter.”

I say nothing.

“She’s in Children’s Hospital right now. Her head is as big this.” He makes his hands in the shape of a small watermelon. “They can’t take the bullet out until the swelling goes down. Pray for her, please, and for my family, too.”

O.K. These kinds of meetings just don’t happen in the suburbs, do they. As the man is telling his story, another neighbor who I know walks up, dips in the conversation and literally starts to pray for the man and his daughter on the spot.

Prequel:

A group of teenaged boys had been causing problems on the corner a few minutes before the dog and I got there. This grieving father saw them and with the image of his daughter fresh in his mind, went right into the midst of them and told them to disburse.

“Go home to your parents if you got 'em and if they don’t like what I’m telling you, send them to me. You don’t live here, so get out!” (How's that for a one man anti-gang ordinance.)

The grieving father tells me that he has had enough. “This is my neighborhood and they can’t have it.”

I’ve had enough, too.  There is only so much elected officials, policies and the police can do. I’m going to pray for this city while I walk my dog… at night.

Comments

[Diana]

Ya got me James T. I literally don't know what to say.

[James Pawlak]

I will add my prayers, for whatever value they have, for that father. I hope no one does a job on him.

[Andy]

Wow.

[Headless Blogger]

James T - I cannot imagine living like that. My prayers for that young girl's recovery, and for safety for you and your family.

HB

[Bruce]

Last night I read the Mario Quadracci piece, entitled "Revolver", in the current Milwaukee Magazine. It paints a portrait, in great specifics, of the number of guns that circulate amongst the hands of Milwaukee's youth, and of the importance the "society of the streets" puts on having a piece - placing the value of a gun sometimes above drugs, jewelery and money.

It happened again last night, 14 year olds shooting at 14 year olds on some 15 year olds front porch... and the rest of us can only scratch our heads and wonder why children, who have contributed nothing to this society, are robbing us of our personal safety and quality of life.

If you and your fellow central city residents are going to take back the streets, I am afraid you are up against a daunting task. The guns, and the people who feel a social need to possess them, are winning.

[Nic Cruickshank]

so touching, I pray for that man and his family - life has some steep downs