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It's a notorious area of Tacoma, mostly black, that, several years ago, made national news with its gang problem. Over the past several years the gangs have primarily moved to outlying areas, leaving Hilltop a pretty peaceful place.
I used to work with a young white woman who dated only black men and had become engaged to one in the past year or so. She used to ask me how I could live on Hilltop, considering the class of people I had to deal with.
Class of people? Well, my neighbor across is the street is a great guy. He says hi from time to time and gave me some gas the last time I mowed my lawn so I didn't have to run to the store. His son used to do my yard but he's been in county lockup for the past six months (I don't know why--I wouldn't presume to ask. His son had one of those tracking anklets on when we moved in and it was several months before he could leave the yard. Every so often he'd bum a cigarette and I'd have to carry it across the street to him so he wouldn't get in trouble.
We have no garage or parking area on our property, so we have to park in front of the house on the street. Despite the area, our cars have never been molested in any way, except one time my wife's window got broke, but we've come to the conclusion that it was a freak incident involving a flaw in the window, moisture, and cold weather. Nothing in the car was disturbed.
Since we have a large yard, sometimes people park in front of the other end and smoke something or another in the car--it may be pot, it may be something else. But, other than the fact that some of them throw cans and other garbage into the corner of my yard, I have never had any trouble with any of them.
We're one of only a few white families on our whole street. The neighborhood kids all know us as the people with the dogs and some will come visit my Shiba (the friendliest of the bunch) who absolutely loves kids.
The neighbor across the street describes us as "good people," though neither my wife and I are particularly sociable. They can tell by the fact that we rarely have company that it's not a race thing, just the way we are toward most everybody. In general there are only two people that ever stop by, and even that's quite uncommon.
One of the things I like about living in a black neighborhood is that our neighbors really seem to respect our space. Though many of them are regular church-goers, they don't come knocking on our door asking us to attend, or wondering why we don't. We don't stick our nose into their business, and they don't stick their nose into ours. But if anyone who doesn't belong starts messing where they shouldn't be, everybody will say something about it.
I've lived in a lot of neighborhoods in my life and I really like this one. It's a fairly quiet street, especially since the neighbor's kid went away and his buddies stopped partying out on the street. He's a good kid, though, and I hope he gets out soon, though I'll miss the peace and quiet without his friends hanging around.
Thankfully I don't know a lot of racist people, but I'm willing to bet any number of freepers would be aghast to know where I live. But I know that freepers would never be welcome here and that's another good thing about it. I much prefer to share my neighborhood with the people I do than any freeper type. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I live in a house built all the way back in 1910. It needs a lot of work, which I'm doing a little at a time. The electricity was redone sometime in the '70s, I think, and the plumbing even more recently. Of course, the people who did the plumbing were morons, as were the folks who added to the back of the house.
I think people sometimes wonder how we can live where we do. The woman I used to work with commented on it more than once. So we live around working class African-Americans in the 'hood. She and her fiance lived in the suburbs and drove SUVs. When she bought her SUV I laughed at her for it, telling her she'd regret it when gas jumped up. She told me that it wouldn't bother her. Well, when it DID jump and she started bitching, I had to laugh again. I didn't say "I told you so," but I wanted to.
I don't know if her attitude about my neighborhood was a subtle form of racism, or classism, or a mixture of both. Maybe her deal was that African-Americans were okay as long as they had money, or lived in a "good" neighborhood. I never did quite figure that out.
I'd rather live where I do than where she does, any day of the week. Maybe it's a bit strange for a white couple nearing middle age, but there you have it. Even with some of my neighbors' friends smoking who knows what in front of my yard at all hours of the night. I don't have to lock my cars in a garage to keep them from being robbed.
What does THAT tell you?
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