ANOTHER CRIME SCENE IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

Did you ever say, "I told you so," but get no satisfaction from saying so?
Last Saturday, I was putting up some signs for a yard sale at our house. As
I posted a few signs at Sargent and Maryland, I noticed that there were no
cars coming down Maryland.

Looking north, I noticed flashing lights and police cruisers blocking traffic.

As I got closer, I noticed the yellow police tape around several pools of
blood on the street and boulevard. The tape extended across the street and
around a small dumpy house on Maryland.

That particular shack was known to area residents as one of several trouble
properties in the neighbourhood.

Despite the blood, police tape and traffic disruption, the incident never
made it into the newspapers - primarily because there was another more
serious incident in which someone died of stab wounds.

It wasn't the first time we've seen the yellow police tape in our
neighbourhood. And it unfortunately won't be the last.

Reporters arrive and usually seem to find -- and quote -- at least one
person who says, "I've had enough. This is the last straw. I'm moving as
soon as I can find another place."

Months later, many of those same people are still at the same address in
the same neighbourhood. It seems they weigh the costs of moving, the
problems in other neighbourhoods, and realize that most of the bad stuff in
any area happens to people involved in bad stuff. So they often decide to stay.

Back at the scene of the crime, what I find intriguing is the range of
responses among observers. At almost every scene of violence, there are
small clusters of people hypothesizing about the incident.

The "word on the street" ranges from crazy rumours about causes of the
conflict to wild speculation about the nature and severity of injuries.

Some people near the scene of the crime are amazingly callous. Some take
opportunity to vent a pent-up racism, commenting, "See how those people
live. They're all like that!"

I remember talking to a callous old guy at the scene of a murder at a crack
house several years ago.

He commented, "That guy had it coming. That's one less to keep the
neighbours awake at night. One down, only 1,499 trouble-makers to go."

I'm not sure how he tallied the troublemakers for elimination. I agreed
that the guy was a trouble-maker, but I was uncomfortable with this
observer's contempt for life -- even the life of a thug.

At an equal but opposite extreme, are those for whom even straightforward
drug violence becomes a very complex affair. It affords an opportunity to
point blame at politicians, big business, media, and almost everyone other
than the perpetrator himself.

These are the class warfare conspiracy theorists. Their lazy logic usually
subjugates personal responsibility to the controlling influence of poverty.
It's a philosophy perpetuated by poverty pimps and middle-class guilt, but
I don't buy it.

Most poor folk aren't killing each other at booze cans, drug houses and
crack dens. They are as respectful and diligent with their lives as most
folks in wealthier suburban or rural communities. They sleep at night and
make sure their kids go to school in the morning.

You can't blame all crime and trouble on poverty. You can't even assume it
will only happen in the inner-city!

It's more about chemistry than geography or economics. You can't pickle
your brains and expect to act rationally. Crack and crime go together -- no
matter where you find one, you'll find the other.

The trouble in our neighbourhood usually comes to troubled people who
multiply their troubles with drunken parties, drugs and violence.

Other than developing a higher-than-normal tolerance to noise and sirens,
most people in our community live quiet lives in nondescript homes, with
never a hint of trouble with cops or neighbours.

Back at the crime scene, I've found that most people in our neighbourhood
approach the yellow police tape with some grace for even the guiltiest of
"victims."

No matter how bad the victim was -- you realize that everyone at that house
is someone's son or daughter, mom or dad, partner or friend. Every death
leaves a void. Every injury has an impact on people who did nothing to
deserve their particular grief.

It would be more pitiful if it weren't so predictable, but we have pity
nonetheless.

We wish people would change before it's too late. Not just so we can sleep
better, but so they can live longer.

That's our hope for the neighbourhood.

Rev. Harry Lehotsky is a founding member of New Life Ministries on Maryland
Street. His column appears Sundays.