Let me take you back a few steps in our foray into buying a historic fixer-upper. We had no intention of moving. We weren't even looking for a new house. My husband (I will call him BJ) and I had just welcomed our beautiful little girl into the world 9 days early. I have always been a planner, but that was one plan I was so excited to see deviated from its original course. That meant 9 more days I could spend with her in my arms rather then kicking me in my sciatic nerve. In the days after we brought Amelia home we were lucky to have family in and out of our house. My mom would come over on an almost daily basis to watch her first grandchild sleep. Her big cousin would come over to give her kisses that she had previous been imparting on my belly. Amelia's cousin was there giving her kisses when the incident happened.
It was 2 days after what would have been my due date. I probably would have been bringing the baby home at the exact time it all happened had Amelia been a stickler for keeping on schedule. But she isn't, and I wasn't. Thank god. Instead, I was inside my home ogling my new adorable peanut as her big cousin played next to her cradle. My mom had just left about 20 minutes before to head home after snuggling with the baby all day. I was sitting on the couch next to BJ's brother in our living room. BJ was in the kitchen cooking us all dinner around 6:30 PM. All of a sudden we hear POP! POPPOPPOPPOP! POPPOP! After the first POP! my ass was on the floor dragging the cradle, baby and all to the floor. BJ's brother had clotheslined his little one to the floor. BJ was like Maniac Magee and flew into the living room to drag me and the cradle towards the back of the house.
Now, let me stop right there for a minute to show you what kind of good men my mother in law raised. After they made sure we were not hurt, and I was put in charge of the little ones, these two fools opened the damn front door. They wanted to make sure no one was hurt. Armed with a belt to stop any bleeding and a blanket to keep any injured warm, they stepped outside to see what happened. My thoughts did not go to helping anyone who might have been shot. My thought was "Hide your wives, hide your babies, they shootin' up 'dis place!"
They found a man laying in the middle of the street bleeding from gunshot wounds. Immediately they called 9-1-1 and let the hysterical woman with this guy know that it would be ok and that the police were on the way. Since this type of incident does not typically happen on my block, the police were there in less than a minute it seemed. After a few hours of lying to police and paramedics, the druggie and his skank were carted off to the hospital where he was patched up and they continue to live a happy loser existence, not in jail. Don't get me started on our City's boys in blue or this state's judicial system.
It turned out the piece of trash woman and the loser guy were from out of state. They traveled up the interstate and into our city to buy drugs. The deal went south real quick and the loser dealer shot the druggie. The druggie was in front of our house in the street and the loser dealer was hiding across the street under some trees. He tried to shoot the druggie as he ran away so the bullets hit the large tree in front of our house, our front windows, and my neighbors house. If the loser dealer had any worse aim, that bullets would have been in the back of my head or my brother in law's. It hit 4 feet from my head and just a few more feet away from my niece and my newborn. Momma bear does not like when you mess with her cub.
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| This is one of the actual bullet holes through the porch window. Photo from 6abc.com |
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