My First Venture Into the Ghetto

by Fatherofeight | More from this Blogger

About 35 years ago, I started my first real job. It was not long before I had to schedule a business trip to New York City. That sounded like a big deal to a young man from a town with 50,000 people. I had noticed in the newspaper that my favorite baseball team was playing a double hitter on Sunday against the Mets. I went to New York a day early and made a hotel reservation near Shea Stadium.

I took a taxi from the hotel and watched both games. Being in New York for the first time was very interesting. I realized that New York was a lot different than Arkansas when the man in front of me looked to a friend, pointed at me, and said,"Hey, Maury, this jerk is rooting for the Cardinals."

The ride to the ballpark had seemed very short, so I decided to walk back to the hotel. I have a good sense of direction, but it must have failed me that day. I walked quite a distance. After a while, I looked around and noticed that the area had a distinct flavor. I had never been in a rough neighborhood.

The streets were lined with five story tenements and it seemed like a lot of people were sitting on the front steps in their undershirts. I noticed that no one looked at all like me. This will date me, but I remember thinking that it looked like a scene from "West Side Story".

People were starting to stare at me. No one said anything. I was startled when an older model car pulled up beside me and the driver rolled down the window. He leaned across the seat and told me to get into his car. I replied that I was walking to my hotel and I thought that it was close. He once again told me to get into his car.

He had a pleasant demeanor, so I got into his car. He quickly told me that I had no idea how dangerous it was for me to be walking in that neighborhood. He took me to my hotel and would not accept any money. It took him a while to drive to the hotel.

Little did I realize that I would someday be fascinated with neighborhoods like the one I had been in and the people who lived there. In fact, my wife and I were to spend time working with ghetto children in neighborhoods a few miles away from where I was picked up that day. Those neighborhoods changed our lives. We started to love the children that no one else cared about.

I am not sure if there is such a thing as a guardian angel. If they do exist, I met mine that day while walking to my hotel.

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