My neighbor’s son:
The drugs are the root of all of it. My neighbor’s son was killed there, and this neighbor still gets high, too. Her son got killed for drugs right down the street from my house, and they’re still selling crack. It’s sick. When she gets all zapped out of her mind, she goes down there and lights a candle, around one, two o’clock in the morning.
This is Saturday morning at about 7:30. I get to the 61 bus stop and I didn’t even pay attention that I was getting ready to step in it. There’s puddles… puddles! This person lost a lot of blood because it’s been almost ten hours and it’s still out in puddle. Somebody’s kid could have fallen in that, touched it, anything. I don’t think the cops were there, because I know they would have had yellow tape around it or something.