Lynne d Johnson

 

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02.10.02 12:35 PM

Under the weather

All week, I've been a little ill. Physically, and just, mentally drained. What capped my week off, was witnessing violence in the NYC subway system. I was on the train with one of my classmates. We were discussing school work, and then all of a sudden—BAM—we heard some ruckus. Folks started moving toward our direction. Everyone was running—shook.

There was a group of young men, in the face of another man. The way folks were running, I thought, perhaps, there was a gun. My classmate and I got off the train, as did the rest of the passengers. I'm not quite sure of all the details, but when I really started witnessing the events, it was unbelievable.

I don't know how many brothers were approaching this one young man, but he had a Diesel bag and was well dressed. The other men, I can't remember exactly how many, were facing him as he backed off the train. He put his bag down on a bench, and that is where I stood. I was going to pick it up for him, but since I didn't know him, or his attackers, I simply stood and watched. Just like everyone else on the platform.

The guys started swinging on him, and he was definitely holding his own. It seemed he made sure that he would get at least one of them—good. Which he did, holding on for dear life, as sucker punches and kicks came flying at him. Someone picked up his bag and took it into the train. Finally, a gentleman onlooker tried to break it up. For the most part, onlookers were just watching and gasping. Fearful of getting involved. Most of the other cats had run off, but the attacked, kept holding onto this one dude. In the tumble, thy fell to the ground, at which point someone else came back to the scene and kicked him in his head—repeatedly. Then the police arrived.

At first, it seemed, they thought the attacked was at fault. I picked up his hat, gave it to him, and then told him his bag was taken back into the train. They had taken his $300 worth of new Diesel items, his two-way, and possible ripped off his chain and bracelets. He was bleeding profusely from the mouth and nose. He was infuriated that the cops were on him like he was the attacker and not the victim. There had been a knife on the ground, but someone got rid of it. I don't know when. There was so much activity. People running back-and-forth, and moving around.

This morning, my phone and doorbell kept ringing. I usually sleep in late on Sundays, but I was disturbed by the constant ringing of the phone, and then the bell. It was the police. They came to issue a subpoena. I have to appear before the grand jury later this week. Funny how quickly that process happened. Especially in Brooklyn. Don't know what I'll say, since all the details are pretty sketchy for me. But I am willing to help, nonetheless. Just hope I don't have to watch my back.

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