It’s disconcerting, to say the least, that as I cooked supper and my girls watched Barney this evening, a man was shot almost within sight of our house (good thing the grandparents don’t check the ol’ blog much). Gregory Street has long been the main problem spot for our community (the last shooting that I have heard about happened there a couple years ago). What makes me shake my head in sadness and fear and relief is that Diane and I had been trying to take the girls down to the park on Gregory lately. Mostly when we want to go to the park, we drive out to a “quiet-er” neighborhood in the city with nicer playground equipment and where we feel at ease with our girls playing there. But we want to use the park near us, to have a chance to meet kids and families who might be down there. Now it seems much less attractive. Yet most families who play there don’t have other options.
The whole scene just felt sort of surreal. I’m in the kitchen, cooking supper, watching 6 or 8 police cars zoom past our house, and soon an ambulance returns up the street. A man walking by tells some other guys that someone has been shot. All the while my girls are in the land of purple dinosaurs, safe and innocent and oblivious.
I thank God for His hand with us in the times we have gone down there recently – there wasn’t even a whiff of anything wrong there. Now with some time away due to Rockbridge, it will be decision time when we get back as to when to head to the park again to play.
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