Can you recall the time you were on a road trip and happened to pass by a field, perhaps you didnt actually see any cows, but you could sure smell them. Your reaction to the scent of them will disgust you at first, but after a few minutes you eventually get used to the smell. Our ability to adapt to certain scents or situations is incredible. The speed in which this adaptation takes place is practically instant. There is always a good side and a bad side to things. Here is the down side, you might find yourself getting used to something that no one should ever get used to.
Its been nearly 3 years since I moved back to South Sacramento from Rancho Cordova. I grew up in South Sacramento, moved to Rancho Cordova and when the economy wasnt doing all that great we also felt the hit. Although we only moved a few blocks away from our old home in South Sacramento, it didn’t feel like we were living in the same area. To be more specific, I live on Meadowview Road and Detroit Blvd. at the moment. The first week I remember hearing a very loud noise. The type of noise that would make you forget of your previous thoughts and make you wonder what it was that you had heard.
It was February, it was cold, and I was frozen for a moment from the loud echoing sound I had heard. I realized that the 4th of July was too far away for people to have fireworks going off at nearly 11 pm. Now that I think back it, feels like everything occurred in slow motion, including the conclusions I was making about the said noise. But in fact, it was all happening too fast for me to finish making any asumptions before it was clear that the sound came from gunfire. It was only a few seconds after the first shot that i heard about 7 more. I was in bed, still as could be.
Frightened from the closeness of the sound I supressed my thirst for a while. My glass of water was only a few feet away from me in my room. Every night, I get up to take a few sips and then go back to sleep. This night I could only picture myself getting up, running to my drawer, taking a sip or two and then running back to bed. My drawer was placed right across from my window and I didn’t want to get hit. Detroit Blvd is the pretty much the main street to get in and out of the neighborhood. After hearing the screaming sound of tires passing by with such quickness, I held my sheets a bit tighter. That night, I remember falling asleep to the sound of sirens from the police cars.
My grandother came to visit us later that year. During her stay, she and I shared a room. Sometimes, we like to gossip about the people back in Mexico. She would tell me who was pregnant, who was cheating on who and which people had recently passed away. We would usually fall asleep around 11 or 12pm. I believe it was around 11:30pm one night when I heard a familiar sound. My grandmother asked “Did you hear that? Are those fireworks?” I was tired and has my eyes closing as I replied “Grandma, it’s September, unless they’re celebrating Mexico’s Independence Day early, I highly doubt those are going to be fireworks”……”They’re most likely gun shots. Dont worry grandma, go to sleep. Goodnight, I love you.” Needless to say, I had gotten used to the sound of gunfire at night. It’s not something I’d like for kids to get used to, or anyone else for that matter. We should strive to provide an environment in which people can feel safe in their homes. I believe that it is our responsibility to take charge when we see suspicious activity and report it to the police. It’s simple as can be and you may do it anonymously. Trust me, I’ve done it before….but that is another story!