Police Action

I had a pretty wild scare today walking home from work at Fordham University. Walking along East Fordham Road from the campus to the subway station, I felt at ease. Now, the neighborhood is far from the most pleasurable of places to relax. It is rather loud, you can literally bite the smog it's so thick, NYC sanitation obviously doesn't see fit to empty garbage cans there that often (nor, to be honest, do many people seem to take much care to use the garbage cans). The entire road, furthermore, from the train station to the University, is lined with stores selling used electronic equipment, cell phones (no credit check! cheap prices!), and pizza. At least that's the way it seems to me.

And, let's be honest, I feel guilty as hell. I mean, I walk down the trash filled streets, through poverty and sadness and anger and violence, flash my little red badge at the University gates, and walk into the Ivy League-ish paradise of Fordham University (which, to be honest, is worth a visit, both to see the campus and experience firsthand the strange dichotomy that is the neighborhood).

Anyway, so tonight I'm walking home, through the now dark and cold streets, bundled up inside a wool hat and a couple of hoods (sweatshirt material and goretex), and I stop at a one way street to watch a cop drive out the wrong way. Suddenly, the car turns onto Fordham Road and turns back into the next street the wrong way (it is one-way as well). The car screeches to a halt, 20 feet or so from me, and out come four cops, all holding guns, screaming at the occupants of a car in front of them (which they are now blocking).

Now, the windows are tinted, so I can't see anything, but I guess that the cops could (weird?), because they're screaming, "Put your hands in the air! Put your fucking hands in the air!!"
I watched this all go down, a few feet before me.
I didn't want to be too close, so I began moving across the busy street pretty quickly, as some others were doing as well. Once across, I ducked into a store and sort of positioned myself behind a rack of clothing, hoping that I wouldn't be hit by a stray bullet.
NOW! Here is what I find the scariest thing of all:
A few people (like me), got the hell across the street and away from any bullets. A few others stayed around and sort of watched the whole thing, remaining close to the action. Some others just kept on walking, after turning around to take a quick look. Meanwhile, I'm thinking:
"Holy shit! Guns! Lots of them!"

I'm watching the cops pull people out of cars, throw them on the ground, screaming and yelling, waving guns in the air. Just like television, but with real bullets and real people.
Now, I'm not even passing judgement (then or now). I don't know if these were some racist cops that were just being crazy, or if these guys really deserved this yelling and gun pulling craziness. Who knows?
But everyone just carried on with their business.
How (ab)normal is this?

This is scary stuff. I just keep thinking, "Jesus, if this happened in Greenwich Village, or Midtown, or imagine! the Suburbs, people would be hanging around for days after they pulled themselves out from under cars, or climbed down from trees, or extricated themselves from whatever hiding place they had found for themselves...."
Not in the Boogie Down, ladies and gentlemen. Not in the Boogie Down.

It's sad what you can get used to.