Beef in the hood came in many forms. Sometimes sporadic. Out of nowhere someone got beat up, slashed, stabbed or shot.
One afternoon in 1987. On a warm Spring Day at the 170st Street Playground between St. Nicholas and Audubon. I sat by myself at the park bench just chilling. There were like 4 or 5 Black Teens playing basketball at the courts when out of nowhere like 4 or 5 Latino kids came with pipes, and sticks. One even had a wooden 4x4, and started swinging with force. Connecting with every swing, one of the Black kids, a tall slim kid, managed to temporarily escape without getting hit. I remember he made a nice football move with a hop, but waiting for him was one the kids with the metal pipe who struck the Black kid in the back of head in mid air. The sound it made has never left my memory til this day. I could see him losing consciousness landing face first on the ground. That visual plays in slow motion in my memory. He landed face first in the sprinkler area of the playground which had a downhill spiral to where the water drains, but on this day, the only liquid that went down that drain was his blood. He layed there unconscious. Blood spilling out his mouth. Medically, I don’t know what that teenagers status was but I really hope he lived to have a healthy adult life. As I watched the ambulance transport him, I walked across the street to my Aunts Building startled, dizzy, and nauseous. I sat at the front stoop almost wanting to vomit because at 11 years old I never saw an act of physical violence on full display like I did that day. That was Brutal!!!
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