Taking the trolley to and from Temple was not safe even back in my day
Posted on 03/16/2013 6:10:28 PM PDT by The people have spoken
Subtitle: Whites, race, class, and the things that never get said.
My younger son goes to Temple, where he’s a sophomore. This year he’s living in an apartment with two friends at 19th and Diamond, just a few blocks from campus. It’s a dangerous neighborhood. Whenever I go see Nick, I get antsy and wonder what I was thinking, allowing him to rent there.
One day, before I pick him up for lunch, I stop to talk to a cop who’s parked a block away from Nick’s apartment.
“Is he already enrolled for classes?” the cop says when I point out where my son lives.
Well, given that it’s December, I think so. But his message is clear: Bad idea, this neighborhood. A lot of burglaries and robberies. Temple students are prime prey, the cop says.
[...]
At the same time, white Philadelphians think a great deal about race. Begin to talk to people, and it’s clear it’s a dominant motif in and around our city. Everyone seems to have a story, often an uncomfortable story, about how white and black people relate.
(Excerpt) Read more at phillymag.com ...
I basically agree with everything you said, except I’m pretty sure athat if this “meeting” ever actually takes place it will be populated mostly by angry, frowning blacks crying about victimhood and “racism”. And sure, there will be your usual cadre of metrosexuals and their wives (or “husbands”) on hand to apologize and patronize and wring their hands. But I cannot imagine any normal whites will show up to speak the truth - - that would be pathetically stupid.
Philadelphia is another failing, Democrat run city, similar to Detroit but not as far down the drain. Being White in Philly just means you haven’t moved out yet.
My oldest son went to Temple and lived in an apartment across from the Art Museum over there at 22nd(?) and the Parkway. There was a very regular and convenient shuttle back and forth to campus. My youngest son now goes to Temple and he lives at 14th and Diamond. He steps out his front door and sees the campus less than a block away. Plus, there’s a cop car on that corner 24/7. I think my son is reasonably safe.
But the kid in this story, out at 19th and Diamond? Wow... The Raymond Rosen projects may be gone, but the Raynond Rosen people are still there. No freaking way would I let my son live near that area. It’s amazing what 5 blocks can mean in North Philly.
Go to it, right mouse click it, click on source, and copy from source.
Rizzo was a cop and then a police commissioner before he served two terms as mayor.
When a reporter asked then Commissioner Rizzo how he planned to deal with a black anti-police organization he said: “When I'm finished with them, I'll make Attila the Hun look like a fag.”
Taking the trolley to and from Temple was not safe even back in my day
“I work with a lot of black women and I love almost all of them. We all get along and talk and laugh and work well together. But we were having a luncheon last year and I looked up and noticed one table with all black women and my table was all white women. I don’t think it was purposely done, it just happened that the different races chose to sit together. Weird.”
I took a picture of some parrots in Brazil; later I was looking at it. There were lots of other types of birds in the cage but the parrots all perched together and not just “the” parrots. All the parrots which had similar markings perched together. Look at animals in general. Dogs and cats don’t hang out together. In spite of Walt Disney, mice and rabbits don’t hang together. Self segregation is the natural order of all animals, including humans.
"An electric chair on every corner" -- Frank Rizzo
that’s what gets me....these stupid whites keep voting for rats......
Thanks for the beautiful graphic.
my niece looked at Temple but my brother to his credit absolutely forbade her.
Ping for later
“I started hearing about what the newspapers were calling ‘flash mobs’ and teenagers walking around downtown Philadelphia,” he said. “It happened over and over. I looked at YouTube, and what I saw on YouTube was totally different than the antiseptic version I read in the newspaper.....“What I saw on YouTube was a race riot, several of them – large crowds of black people running down the streets of downtown Philadelphia, beating people up, hurting people very badly, pulling people out of cars, going into restaurants, stealing stuff, destroying property. Then I realized it was happening all over the country, not just in places like Philly, but in Baltimore, New York and all these big places and small places, like Peoria, Ill., or places you wouldn’t expect it, like Seattle and Portland.
http://www.wnd.com/2012/08/race-riots-media-wont-talk-about/#zsbBCARHRjbuq4TE.99
Here's hoping it was his own knife, and it was stuck in a very, let's just say, educational place...as in, "teach him a good lesson".
It is funny in a sad sort of way. The author seems to be a lib who sort of hinted at the truth but couldn’t quite let himself say it and yet has been taken to task like John Derbyshire who took the gloves off and let the truth eagles fly.
Here's another: it's a mural on the side of a building at 9th & Montrose in the Italian Market:
That's St. Paul's R.C. Church in the left background, red brick with white trim and gray roof.
Beautiful. Why are there no children?
Here's a link to the Derbyshire article that got him fired for saying the truth about how whites have to help their kids navigate today's rough racial climate:
And here is a brilliant summation of the PC problem about racial discussions by the genius commentator, Thomas Sowell:
Do you live in Philly? If you don’t talk to men on the street means that black males dominate the area. Happens in a lot of White Guy Suit and Tie Areas. Them types are nutless when push comes to shove.
Just not in that picture; although it's a challenging environment for kids who are too big for the stroller and too small to mind their mother. It's an outdoor market to which most people walk, because it's very hard to find parking, and then carry the bags home or to a parking spot a block or four away. The usual practice is to walk down six to eight blocks on one side, and walk back up the other side, which is a lot for a kid. There are crowds, piles of produce in crates, lots of odors -- some of them ancient -- from fish, meat and cheeses and the day's peelings and garbage all around, and in the winter there are firecans in the street (it's the street Rocky ran through when he started training in Rocky I).
A not very clear picture of the other side of the street, with a blazing fire in a tall can, keeping the vendor warm.
After things get up and running for the day, there are fish scales, bits of animal fats and fruit and vegetable slime all over the sidewalks and street. Once, I watched the garbage truck come up the street and totally fill up after only two blocks, When it compressed its load of imperfect veggies and fruits, fish heads, meat trimmings and cast-off stems and leaves, a greenish nutrient-rich liquid ran out onto the street that might have fed a third-world village for days. With all its old-world qualities, the Italian Market is a fabulous place and I shopped there almost exclusively for more than 20 years.
The locals, particularly the Italians, don't call it the Italian Market. They call it "9th Street." Or, in the local dialect, "Niynt Shtree."
Here is the sidewalk between the stores on the left and the produce stands on the street side. The street vendors stand with their backs just inches away from passing cars. I remember sadly when one of the vendors was killed by a passing truck in the 90s. When the market is busy, it is clogged with people like New York at rush hour: 
Here is the scene of the Italian Festival, one block below the site of the mural but looking south instead of north:
You can see the street is not very wide. But everybody comes to the Festival to eat cannoli, sfogliatelli, macaroni with tomato "gravy", cheeses, fruits, water ice, pizza, cheesesteak sandwiches, olives, zeppoli ("fried dough") or some melt-in-the-mouth chunks from the whole roast pigs with apples in their mouths in front of the butcher shops. On warm crusty bread...
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