For You My Mijos/as (sons/daughters)

 For me, there is an inevitable place where my mind goes when forced to think about the evil that visited the innocent in Sandy Hook. I saw my first gun shot victim die on the streets of East Los Angeles when I was around 10 years old. It was a Friday, school let out and there was a scuffle on Cesar Chavez Ave, (formerly Brooklyn Ave), the fight bled out into the middle of the street and the familiar muffled sounds of pop-pop meant that the crowds would start rushing towards where he fell. I … [Read more...]


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