Recently it seems like I’ve witness a few crimes that sort of surprised me, but nothing like what my friend Linda saw the other night. She sent me this post and I thought I would put it on here so you guys could read it too. I was reading her facebook status updates as this was actually happening. What follows is her account of what happened and what she saw…

On a Friday around midnight, I was chatting and working on my Facebook profile. A nice breeze was flowing through the window and the neighborhood was quiet; just a few kids outside playing around. As I was working on the PC, I took a few occasional stares out the window for a minute and continued to type. I was trying to keep up with my friends’ posts when all of a sudden the sounds of gunfire went off……pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow…counting seven rounds of semi-automatic shots. I yelled to my boyfriend: DID YOU HEAR THAT? He was watching TV in the living room. In a calm and nonchalant voice he said, “Yeah, sounds like gunfire to me”. I jumped up from the computer and ran into the living room and then onto the balcony. I heard a man’s voice yelling at the kids to get in the house, now! A few minutes later, a helicopter was flying overhead with a spotlight that turned the night into day; circling quickly in the sky as it was flashing its beam all over the neighborhood, in every nook and cranny. Then, as I expected, I heard the sound of police sirens growing closer very fast and the next thing I knew, they were passing in several different directions, as one police car flew passed my balcony and stopped.

I ran in the house, slid on my sandals and ran out the door, my boyfriend a few steps behind me, as other neighbors were also approaching the flashing lights. I asked a young man what happened, as he was walking away from what appeared to be a body. He said: “I don’t know…some kid just got shot”. I said to him, “a kid!?” and he said, “Yeah, he looked like a young kid to me…F__k, I don’t know”. I moved a little closer and all I could see were the legs of somebody lying on the ground, his upper body obscured by a parked car, with yellow sweat pants and white tennis shoes. A crowd of people was growing and yellow police tape was rapped around poles to rope off the area where the body lay. More and more neighbors filed out of their homes and gathered in groups, whispering, some of them pacing back and forth. Approximately ten minutes later, cars began pulling up and people were jumping out slowly, holding each other, walking towards the yellow tape. A woman screamed and fainted as others held her in their arms. I guessed that was the Mother, due to the overwhelming reaction. Then a young girl and older young man began crying and cursing, “some MF shot my brother, he’s dead, he’s dead!” It turned out it was the brother and sister of the deceased. Then an older woman came up to the yellow tape and began crying. It turned out that was the grandmother. Then following was the grandfather, cousins and friends screaming and crying. Cell phones were ringing, people talking, giving their ideas of what could have happened, cursing, walking in circles, back and forth, and the family repeatedly trying to get close to their dead relative. I sensed for a moment that all hell was going to break lose, but that didn’t happen. I thought to myself: retribution isn’t far off.

The most odd thing was wondering how did the family get to the scene so fast – or was I in a time warp; not realizing how much time had passed between coming outside and the cars pulling up. I was frozen in spot with my arms folded. A group of young men were standing next to me saying, “I heard the shots but didn’t see anybody”. I turned to them and said, “you were out here when this happened?” Their response had additional information: “Yeah, we heard the shots and saw somebody running away, dropping his hat and a towel. He doubled back picking up the stuff and ran away. He had on red and white!” One of the young men asked his buddy if he was going to tell the police what he saw but the kid describing all these things said, “No, no!” and changed the subject to “I heard the shots though”. The group of kids kept repeating what they heard and saw over and over, coming up with ideas that maybe the towel had the gun in it. I turned away and watched as more police personnel arrived on the scene. There was the photographer, investigators and a Review Journal newspaper reporter who eased his way up to me and Russell. He said, “Hello, my name is_____(I forgot). How are you folks doing tonight?” I knew what was coming next (been there/done that) as he began asking questions of what we heard and saw. The group of young kids slithered away. I gave my account of hearing the shots. That’s all. He asked some other mundane questions such as, how is it living around here in North Las Vegas and has the crime increased….blah, blah, blah. Then he said thank you and quietly left.

In all, the entire process to investigate the shooting took three and a half hours. The conversations with my neighbor turned from sorrow to slight humor, back to sorrow. Photos were being taken, moving of the body back and forth, putting up a screen to hide the body, and counting bullet shells and holes all over the place. I stood there for three and a half hours with my neighbors in complete disbelief. The coroner arrived and then a funeral service van. There was complete silence as the body was photographed again a few more times and placed in the van. It drove away with a police escort in front and back of it. As the van disappeared, neighbors slowly made their way home. Later in the morning around 8:00am, I came out to go grocery shopping and it was if nothing had happened. It was quiet with no one in sight. The yellow police tape, cars, everything, gone. I drove away looking in my rear view mirror at the spot where the young man had laid. Tears came to my eyes and I drove off thinking…NOTHING.