Just before the new year, a woman who had celebrated her 50th birthday that Tuesday was shot dead in the street the following Wednesday. Eyewitnesses said the gunmen climbed out of their vehicle, took aim, and fired away. I was around the corner, marveling at the beautifully bright, clear day and the constant circling of the Sheriffs in the neighborhood. I noticed them around 9:00am. The shooting occurred near 2:00pm, near the time children would have begun coming home from school, if school had been in session. As it happens, more children were exposed to this mayhem than would have been if they had been in school.
So, where are the counselors?
Two years ago, a man was murdered across the street from my house. I felt the impact of each of the 15 .40 caliber rounds that were pumped into his body as he sat in his car, waiting for his wife and daughter to get into the car to be driven home. The Sheriff’s investigators spent hours processing the scene. They never once asked if anyone thought they needed to speak to a counselor, a psychologist, or even a social worker.
What are we here, animals?
Murder is an everyday occurrence around here, but I’m told the crime rate is much reduced from what it once was. Mark Ridley-Thomas, aka Mumbles, stood behind Villaraigosa and appeared proud as a swollen-up peacock because of this news. Well, Mr. Supervisor, the crime rate may be down where you live, but it certainly isn’t here.
Since 2003, there has a been a murder close by every year. Never have any counseling services been offered to the community.