When I was seven I was sitting on the ground with friend and two black guys from The Savage Nomads gang were walking up the sidewalk. My friend whispered to me: call Robbie a n*****. So I sang in a low voice thinking I wasn’t going to be heard: Robbie is a n***** n*********** n*****.
But they did hear me and Robbie jumped over the bushes, picked me up and pinned me to the wall by the neck. I thought I was going to die but the other one convinced Robbie to let me go because I was a kid.
I was lucky!
LOL! You were lucky! In the old days, you were likely to get beat up and have bruises. Times have changed, now people get arbitrarily killed. Not that it didn't happen before, just more often now. My next-door neighbor (hispanic kid) got his throat slit and died, and a friend around the corner got shot in the stomach in a gang fight. But usually, a beating is what happened, and you recover from that. These crazy punks now don't value life so much.