Death and Other Daily Activities

Growing up in the northend hartford during the 90’s you are no stranger to death. I saw my first dead body at 9, no one that I knew, just a teen shot on the corner.

Seems like everyday another person was being kidnapped, just to be found in a dumpster or floating in Keney park. People shot, stabbed, hit by cars, the whole litany of ways to be murdered were on display.

Sure there were some natural passing but that was few and far between.

Before I can tell you more I have to tell you about the where.

Hartford was the state capitol, so the city itself had a sense of false importance. In between New York and Boston, it was more of a pit stop than a destination. It seemed people didn’t move there voluntarily, just getting stuck there along the way to somewhere else. But that didn’t stop the residents from trying to prove that they belonged with the big cities.

It was with the building of the highway that segregated the city, I-84 cut the north end from the rest, and the poorest of people lived there. Mostly blacks in the north with a few Spanish, the south had mostly Spanish, and the west was the people who could afford to live away from the rest. The east was a completely different city, separated by the river.

This segregation turned the people into crabs in a barrel, climbing over each other to survive by any means necessary. When crack came about, it was like throwing dynamite into a fire.

Then the gangs came. Murders were commonplace. If you didn’t see a friend for a few days they were either dead or in jail. No one got out.

Now the killings have slowed a bit, the teens now will kill to get a name for themselves or any reason they can. The drug dealers are still there, mostly working from a cell phone and keeping off the corners. There was still a demand for anything that could make this drab reality disappear, from a little weed to China white heroin. But its not like the 90’s, nothing is like the 90’s.

I tell you this to let you know that I’m no stranger to dead bodies, they don’t really shock me. The real surprise is why was this one on my couch.