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- Growing Up Bronx
On the way back from Jackson Heights with my little man, as we exited the F train, we observed 2 gentlemen engaged in a verbal dispute. One of them was inside the train holding the doors, the other outside. With the doors held open they cursed and threatened one another. My son and I continued walking past them and ignored them as you should always do in the streets of NYC. Sticking around to spectate simply makes you a possible victim for a stray bullet.
At some point they let the doors go to the train and went there separate ways, one of the gentleman was walking behind us, kicking the trash cans, cursing, slapping everything in his path. As this is happening my son becomes nervous and tells me he’s worried. I explain that this does not involve us and we have nothing to worry about. I also tell him that when he’s with me, he is as safe as he’s ever going to be. I’ll be laying on a floor dead before I ever left any harm come to my son.
So the guy speeds up, and passes us, he turns around and looks directly at me, now I’m concerned and immediately I shift my stance into a defensive stance while creating a block in my son’s direct path. But to my pleasant surprise, the guy apologizes. He says “I’m sorry about all that just now in front of your son, it’s my bad”. I nodded and thanked him, I told him I appreciate him saying that, it’s a very upstanding thing to do. We gave one another a nod, and we kept walking. “Peace man, be easy brother, it’s not worth it”.
The moral of the story here, even though this guy was wearing a wife beater, a hat to the back, pants on the ground, some gold chains, and covered in ink, clearly fitting the bill of an unsavory character, he had the decency to turn around and give a strange man, and his son an apology and respect.
Who says the streets don’t have a code of honor?
Growing Up Bronx