DaveInTexas
06-04-2020, 08:35 PM
I grew up and was raised in Arlington, Texas which when we moved here in 1974, it was only around 70,000 people. Hardly anyone ever heard of it, and it was mainly just a passing-through town for people on their way to Dallas
I was raised in a predominately blue-collar neighborhood, which was mainly white families, with some Hispanics and even a Vietnamese family down the street. It was a quaint corner of suburbia and was the kind of neighborhood where everyone knew everyone else, and was very little in the way of drama.
Then about a mile or so away, there was an apartment complex being constructed, that was being funded and fronted by HUD to house low-income residents. Some of the neighbors, whom my family knew for years, saw the writing on the wall and moved out of the neighborhood.... they could see what was coming a mile away.
The changes at first were subtle.
There were reports of petty crime, such as vandalism and car break-ins
Then came the sounds of gunshots that rang all hours, as niggers were shooting each other over 'turf', and were openly selling dope
Soon, surrounding businesses were being ransacked and robbed at gunpoint. Several opted to close down, in response.
And the once nice and cozy apartment grounds looked trashed out, as beer and wine bottled littered the streets.
That's when my father said we were leaving. I was sad to leave because it was the only neighborhood I knew and would miss my friends, but also remembered feeling that my dad was right for wanting to leave
That's been 30+ years ago, and I still visit the old neighborhood from time to time, but nobody is there I would know, as they have either died or moved on themselves.
The police finally got the upperhand and most of the criminal element has been dealt with, in one way or another. The HUD apartment as well was demolished to make way for a mini-mall, but to me, it was too little too late.
The old neighborhood had already died
I was raised in a predominately blue-collar neighborhood, which was mainly white families, with some Hispanics and even a Vietnamese family down the street. It was a quaint corner of suburbia and was the kind of neighborhood where everyone knew everyone else, and was very little in the way of drama.
Then about a mile or so away, there was an apartment complex being constructed, that was being funded and fronted by HUD to house low-income residents. Some of the neighbors, whom my family knew for years, saw the writing on the wall and moved out of the neighborhood.... they could see what was coming a mile away.
The changes at first were subtle.
There were reports of petty crime, such as vandalism and car break-ins
Then came the sounds of gunshots that rang all hours, as niggers were shooting each other over 'turf', and were openly selling dope
Soon, surrounding businesses were being ransacked and robbed at gunpoint. Several opted to close down, in response.
And the once nice and cozy apartment grounds looked trashed out, as beer and wine bottled littered the streets.
That's when my father said we were leaving. I was sad to leave because it was the only neighborhood I knew and would miss my friends, but also remembered feeling that my dad was right for wanting to leave
That's been 30+ years ago, and I still visit the old neighborhood from time to time, but nobody is there I would know, as they have either died or moved on themselves.
The police finally got the upperhand and most of the criminal element has been dealt with, in one way or another. The HUD apartment as well was demolished to make way for a mini-mall, but to me, it was too little too late.
The old neighborhood had already died