re: Whats it like living in a real bad ghetto?

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Bad as in super poor or bad as in violence

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Both. Like total quality of life

The biggest threat in the urban areas is the yutes, not grown folk. Once again they know the difference between a soft target and a real 1

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Whats it like living in a real bad ghetto?

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You'll have to ask SDVTiger that question...

I lived in a medium ghetto for a few years in Athens. During that time-

Next door neighbor burglarized in broad daylight, stole all his musical gear, which is a problem because that's how he made his living, playing with Kevn Kinney at the time.

I witnessed and called in a drive-by across the street from my house. Mexican gangs ran (and still run) the Garnet Ridge area. not MS13, but the other one, I can never remember their name.

Mail stolen from our mailbox almost daily, had to start having anything important or valuable sent to my work address.

I kept my car door unlocked and empty of valuables so I wouldn't have to pay for busted windows like my friend did. One time I was dumb enough to leave my tackle box in there, it was gone in the morning.

Can't sleep without a fan on due to loud music from cars and police/EMS sirens throughout the night. Oh, and anyone with a dog tended to leave them out all night bark bark barking.

But rent was cheap and never had solicitors.

Terrible crime, off the chain food marts

I lived on GSR1 right by Gadere in 1999. It was cheap two bedroom town house for $400/mo but we would hear gun shots sometimes at night. Never had issues but that Circle K on Gardere was a wild place.

I think anyone who lived in an actual "real bad" ghetto has a low chance of ever making it to a point in life where they can insightfully reflect on their experiences for an online message board.

But for me, I grew up in what would be a pretty bad area. Not The Wire level shite, but it was rough at times. Really poor at times.

You get a lot of stories. That's about the best way I can explain it. My wife grew up in Mountain Brook, AL. She has very few dramatic stories from her childhood. I have a ton. Her across the street neighbor was a cardiologist who spent every Sunday morning playing his violin on his front porch.

When I was 7, I woke up to hearing two guys arguing in the street. I watched them through my window and they started fist fighting. One of them pulled a knife and stabbed the other guy. He ran off. The guy that got stabbed walked away like nothing happened until about 50 yards down he fell to his knees while grabbing his shoulder. Then he got up and walked out of sight.

One time my friends and I were throwing a football in the street. Some boys who lived on the other block came walking by. Some words were said and suddenly everyone was fighting. I was like 9 years old. Crazy part of this story? I wasn't in the fight. I was one of the only white kids in the neighborhood. Everyone kept saying, "don't touch the white boy." Even my best friend kept telling me to stay out of it.

There was a house down the road that was off limits. My mom reminded me all the time to never go to their door, don't talk to them, never go near their yard. Growing up, I think I assumed it was drugs or something. I found out in adulthood that a sex offender lived in the house.

A girl named Rachel got pregnant at 13 and all the neighborhood kids said we wouldn't talk to her anymore.

One night Mr. Harry was drunk and chasing an armadillo down the road with a baseball bat. He was in nothing but his whitey tighties. A bunch of the dads were outside laughing their asses off at him.

My parents split up and got back together and split up. And my mom joined some weird cult church and then left it. My dad was an alcoholic and then wasn't and then did drugs and then didn't anymore.

Those are the stories I grew up with. My wife and those who didn't live in those kinds of areas would NEVER understand how those events can feel normal. I think that's what another poster implied: you'd have to live there to know what it's like. Feeling like it's normal is a kind of bizarre phenomenon once you get out.

Fat City