This scene was there to greet me coming home at 5 this morning. It’s a memorial to a young man who passed. I didn’t know him and he may not have been from the immediate neighborhood, but who knows? He looks to be about the age of my sons or thereabouts, and that’s sobering.

Among the messages:

Hood legend!

Crip in peace.

So there is a story of some kind but he’s still a kid. Was a kid… His friends were gathered this afternoon and it was tempting to pay my respects, but I left them alone. Not out of fear but out of respect. I don’t remember how old I was when that kind of loss introduced itself into my life. Let them have their grief as a family. As a crew.

I don’t care what his story was as much as what it might have been. You just never know.

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