The Homicide Index (Philly Confidential)

The Homicide Index

Happy Monday all. Looks like another week or so has passed since we've done some house keeping and updated our beloved blog, so here goes. For those of you just tuning in, the Murder Tally (yes, we're capitalizing it now) stands at 94, compared to 73 at this point last year. The ongoing murderpalooza reached new heights yesterday, as a mom was killed in a Southwest Philly quadruple shooting. Nice.

Shifting gears just a wee bit, I'm sure you've all noticed by now that reporters rarely, if ever, witness a crime that we end up writing about. Ninety-nine percent of the time, someone gets shot, our little breaking news pagers go off, and we dash out to the crime scene. But every now and then, someone comes along and tells us what it's like when you fall into that other one percent.

Super friends, meet Jeff Deeney. Jeff's a local freelance writer who also doubles a social worker in our troubled town. He details his gritty and sometimes unpleasant encounters in a vivid biweekly column, "Today I saw..." on Phawer. Last week, Jeff saw a twentysomething kid try to murder two other kids in the far reaches of North Philly:

"The shooter was a young black kid, maybe in his early twenties, clean shaven and boyish looking in an oversized black t-shirt and baggy brown jeans. I saw the gun that was still in his hand, a boxy and mean looking piece of black metal that he had partially stuffed into his front pocket. He wanted to keep his finger on the trigger in case he had to start shooting again but at the same time he didn’t want to openly brandish the weapon for witnesses to see.

He slowed to a walk when he got within arm’s reach of me; if my window was down I could have reached out to touch him. Maybe he felt comfortable, thinking he had escaped unharmed. Maybe he was lingering for a second, thinking about going back to pop off a couple more. He was smiling broadly, like street corner crossfires were fun and games. His face said, ain’t no thang. Just throwin’ some lead, baby. Just bustin’ slugs. We were two blocks from Temple Hospital. The streets were filled with pedestrians and working folks."

To the read the rest of Jeff's all-too-real encounter with an armed and dangerous moron, click here. To see what Jeff thought of his close encounter, keep reading after the jump.

When I asked Jeff what he thought of witnessing a near shooting, he was honest -- but still hopeful.

"I don't want to give first time readers the impression that this stuff happens to me every day. This was the first time something like this has happened to me. Hopefully it will also be the last, but I am concerned that with the weather warming up and no break yet in the city's now more than year-long murder spree that dodging bullets on a regular basis might become a part of my job," he said in an e-mail.

"I want to assure you that I see positivity come in a hundred forms when I go into the field. In North Philadelphia I see a vibrant and eclectic spiritual landscape that brings hope and joy despite tremendous adversity. For every kid slinging on the corner with a gun in his belt I see ten families that are full of love, pulling together to help make ends meet. For every bad block that's drowning in drugs there's another with a block captain who keeps things safe, orderly and clean."

I'm with Jeff -- with the spring here and summer not all that far away, I'm already cringing. We might have 100 homicides before this month is over. And that is bad, bad news. And he's right; for every bad person you write about, you find five genuinely good people who are just stuck in a bad neighborhood.

Stay safe out there, folks.

Posted on March 26, 2007 11:26 AM | Permalink

Comments (218)

cierra robbins :

My name is Cierra Robbins. I am 21 years old. I watch the news every night because I have to see what is going on around me. Most of my peers don't watch the news but i feel it is a must. Yesterday was too close to home for me. Someone was shot on the 5800 block of pine street and I live two blocks away. This has to stop and must stop. I was contemplating what could i do and i wrote a poem titled 'What happens when it gets hot?'

What happens when it gets hot?
Will someone else get shot with too many people on the block?
What happens when it gets hot?
January through April
over 100 already popped
Is life that meaningless that we can take it away?
They're not people, they're killers
cold blooded everyday.
Do i have to watch my little siblings
with bulletproff vests
or do i need protection to lay down & rest?

Posted by cierra robbins | April 7, 2007 1:17 PM

Posted on April 7, 2007 13:17

david:

Great poem, Cierra! Keep an eye out next week -- I'll probably devote a blog post to you.

Posted by david | April 7, 2007 1:52 PM

Posted on April 7, 2007 13:52

Bush2:

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I can't be bothered with anything recently. I've just been sitting around doing nothing. Today was a loss. I just don't have much to say. Nothing seems worth thinking about.

Posted by Bush2 | November 25, 2007 3:34 AM

Posted on November 25, 2007 03:34

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