Last night at 18:30, I heard 7 shots. The last time I heard that sound was 2am on a Sunday morning. I went back to sleep, thinking I’d been dreaming, and later discovered an innocent 19 year old woman had been shot while trying to stop a fight outside the nightclub a half-block away from me.
So I knew what I was hearing last night.
I flipped off all the lights, and crept onto my balcony to see what was going on. Just like we hear about in the news, people simply kept walking by. I don’t think it’s because they were horrible people, but rather, innocent, and it didn’t occur to them that those ‘pow pow pow’s’ really were gunshots.
Within 8 minutes, cop cars were everywhere. I mean: Everywhere.
I threw on a coat and ran outside.
Just down the street the police were setting up police tape – I got there soon enough that I was inside the tape, but I hung far back from the scene.
The scene:
Very nice looking beige van, parked.
Passenger door wide open.
Man (middle aged? caucasian? slightly overweight?) lying dead, face up, on the sidewalk, feet by the passenger door. Blood soaked all over the right side of his chest.
Women with blood on her coat too, weeping.
It was a ‘targetted’ killing. Presumably, he owed drug money.
I ‘get’ why people become addicts, and how that would totally trash a life.
But I don’t really ‘get’ why people become drug dealers — most of the dealers barely earn minimum wage. Then as you survive it for a while and maybe move up — you can buy a van, I guess, and maybe a reasonably nice home? But the price of participating in the ‘industry’ must be so apparent: chronically hiding from the law, the complexity of laundering the money, and the constant fear for your life.
Christ once asked the piercing question: What does it profit you, if you gain the whole world, but lose your own soul?
I just wonder. Why did that man get into the business? Did he get caught into it? Or was he attracted by … by what?