Held Up

On January 26th it was unlucky 13…murders, that is…for this year…in New Orleans. And, just today, a 24 year old police officer was gunned down.

Senseless tragedies, all.

I wonder if I’m mentally prepared for America after 8 years in relatively gun-free London and 7 in Japan where violent crime is the exception to the rule. I wonder if I still have that 6th sense that you need not to get shot. In 2001 my good friend Roger Boisvert was murdered in a car jacking incident on a trip to L.A. He had been a long-term resident of Tokyo. I recently had a conversation with three other Americans. All but one of us had been held up by gunpoint. (What an expression: “held up.” Like, “I was held up by a phone call from my mom on the way to the grocery.”) My incident was in New Orleans in the 80s. We were stupid. It was a beautiful spring night, and we wanted to enjoy the weather. We were sitting inside with the door open. Two youths came in and helped themselves to our valuables all the while pointing a gun that looked the size of a bazooka.

I know it’s my home town and all, but I’m wondering if I’ve been off the frontier for too long.

Photo from Times Picayune.