“Valrico Girl, 8, Sees Her Father Gunned Down - The Ledger” plus 1 more |
| Valrico Girl, 8, Sees Her Father Gunned Down - The Ledger Posted: 27 Sep 2010 11:40 PM PDT Published: Monday, September 27, 2010 at 8:26 p.m. VALRICO | David James was enjoying an afternoon game of basketball Sunday with his 8-year-old daughter when he was shot and killed in front of her by a neighbor trying to chase away skateboarders, said friends and authorities.  Click to enlarge A police officer walks past the body of David James, who was shot and killed in front of his 8-year-old daughter during an altercation at a Valrico basketball court Sunday afternoon. Buy photo SCOTT MCINTYRE | St. Petersburg Times Neighbors say James, 41, was defending the skateboarders, telling a man who lives across the street there was no sign to prohibit them from skateboarding on the courts. "I see a sign," the assailant replied as he pulled a gun, neighbors said. The suspect, who was not identified by authorities, then waited next to the body for Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office deputies to arrive, neighbors said. The man was questioned by detectives and the State Attorney's Office officials and released Sunday night, said sheriff's spokesman Deputy Larry McKinnon. "Additional details of the investigation will not be publicly released at this time," he said. In some killings, suspects have invoked a "stand your ground" defense, which relies on a state law that allows people to meet force with force when they feel threatened. "Whether this case meets those guidelines remains to be seen," McKinnon said. A key witness in the case is likely to be 8-year-old Danielle, who used her father's cell phone to call her mother after the shooting, said the victim's 17-year-old stepson, Garrett. "At first she wasn't too bad," Garrett James said. But she broke down after being questioned by investigators. "She's taking it worse than anybody," the younger James said. Deputies responded Sunday about 4 p.m. to a call about a shooting at 3207 Partridge Point Trail, across the street from the basketball court. At dusk, neighbors gathered on the usually quiet streets outside the crime tape. "It's a classic example of someone losing their temper over something silly," said Rhonda Norris, 40, who described her Twin Lakes neighborhood as family-friendly. A recent concert in the park drew hundreds for free hot dogs and music by the Single Malt Brothers. Christmas brings performances by the high school band. The suspect, though, had a reputation for nagging neighbors about loose dogs, and yelling and swearing at the skateboarders who like to set up ramps and rails on the community basketball court to practice their moves. "I'm not surprised it fell out the way it did," Garrett James said. His stepfather, who retired two years ago after serving 20 years in the Air Force, was the type of man who would stand up for people he thought were being treated unfairly, he said. "He was a really good man," he said. "If he hadn't been there, you'd probably have two teenage kids dead instead of my dad." And as one of the neighborhood's many skateboarders, he said he had his own run-ins with the suspect. So did his friend, Bill Myers, 16. "He's given me a lot of trouble throughout the years," Myers said. "He likes to say he paid for that court himself." The court, along with tennis courts and an athletic field, are maintained with dues from members of the homeowners association. Myers and Garrett James say they have tried to petition the Twin Lakes homeowners association to build a skateboard park, collecting signatures from sympathetic parents. Although there is a no-trespassing sign on the basketball court, they think that applies only to people who don't live in the neighborhood, which has a security booth at its entrance where a guard takes the names of visitors every day after 6 p.m. "Everybody's lives have been changed by a conflict and an irrational decision," said Derek Matthews, who lives across the street from the scene of the shooting. "It's a terrible, sad situation." This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service — if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read our FAQ page at fivefilters.org/content-only/faq.php |
| Superman, Signs, and Shaggy: Skateboarding to Union Square - Blackbookmag.com Posted: 18 Oct 2010 01:56 PM PDT
 ') I've been a skateboarder for more than 20 years. It's my second choice in life. Work comes first, because without work I couldn't afford sneakers and boards. But when I go from work to skating it's like slipping from one world to another. I work with smart, educated, family-oriented people. When I leave work to go skating in downtown New York, I see all the junkies, lowlifes, and degenerates. Instead of going home to watch TV, I skate and watch all the entertainment going on in the streets. It's like reality TV without the TV. I leave work at 5:00 p.m. and can skate from 57th Street to Union Square in 11 minutes flat. I fly down Eighth Avenue—laughing at the fat businessmen running to the Port Authority to catch their buses—and turn on 42nd Street and go past the New York Times building (my daily bible), where I cut down Seventh Avenue. They just repaved it over the summer and it's smooth as silk. I have the street signals timed so if I hit them just right, I can go through four signals no problem. I bust a left on 32nd Street where I make a point to high-five this black Superman I know whose job it is to hold a sign for some bullshit advertisement. I give him props because he's Superman, America's hero. Then I take Broadway the rest of the way to the park. On the streets there are two rules I go by: don't get arrested, and don't get into fights. I do, however, have a bad habit with cars that almost hit me, either punching them or spitting on their windshields. If it's my fault I'll skate right up to them and apologize, but if they're texting or on the phone I'll call them out for it. And don't get me started on pedicabs, because that's a story for another time. I always refer to Union Square Park as my backyard, even though I live in Jersey (too broke to live in NYC). I spend more time at the park than I do at home. I know all the park rats (regulars). I know the skaters, bikers, junkies, crusties, punks, scenesters (emo music, skinny pants), perverts, scumbags, gravers (gothic ravers), and even the people who clean up the garbage. These people make up for the family I don't have. Union Square is also my skate park and it's fun as shit. Ask anyone: Who rips this park down skating? They'll point to me. You have to have a street name to be down. I go by Shaggy. Then there's my dad, Signs (pictured left, with me). He's not really my dad, but I can definitely picture him that way, not that I particularly like him. Signs is homeless, always has a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, and he's got the coolest teeth in the park: two really pointy fangs on the bottom of his mouth. I love watching him eat. He eats like my cat, Anna, with his tongue sticking out because he can't chew his food. Having a good set of teeth in this park is a privilege. Also, to be an official park rat you have to have a gig. My dad's gig is walking around with two cardboard signs. He'll approach people and show a sign that says, "What's the best nation?" Then he'll whip out another sign that says, "Donation." Then he'll hold out a cup and say, "Any change will do." If it's a couple he approaches, he'll tell the girl to dump the dweeb and marry him, because he's a great cook. Sometimes I'll blow his spot up and say, "How can you cook if you don't even have a home?" He usually yells at me to shut up, and then tells the people he's begging change from, "That's my son." I'm starting to think he really believes he's my dad. This is what I do when I'm not skating. Fucking with bums is one of my hobbies. Then there's a kid we call Dusty. I gave him that name after watching him get high huffing Dust-Off. Every time he took a hit his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. I egged him on, screaming and cheering. I know it's bad, but I did that kind of thing for a couple of years. I worked at a restaurant and sucked the gas out of whipped-cream canisters all the time. And I was better than Dusty because I got to the point where I could do two cans at once. I don't recommend you do that. Anyway, Dusty is really out of his mind but I love him like a brother. If you hang out in the park, hide your cigarettes. Smoking is bad, but all park rats smoke, and it's a guarantee that once you light up, a line of them will form. Cigarettes are worth more than money at the park. Sometimes I'll carry a pack but just have one cigarette in it, so when I pull out the pack they believe me that I only have one left. Sometimes I tell them I'm out, and since I'm a park rat, they'll come back and give me one. That's the privilege of being a park rat, free cigarettes without begging. So stop by Union Square Park sometime and say hi. Join the family and become a park rat, or just hang back and enjoy the show. Bobby Crawford is a writer, skateboarder, office mailroom employee, and New York Times profile subject. This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service — if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read our FAQ page at fivefilters.org/content-only/faq.php  This posting includes an audio/video/photo media file: Download Now |
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