3 rd & Columbia 3 rd and Columbia, Lugo’s gang claimed this territory in the late 1960’s.   Lugo, which I discovered later, was actually his last name.   Everyone in our neighborhood knew him by Lugo.   Lugo was the leader of this gang and Sergio was his lieutenant; his second in command.   Sergio had a younger brother named Harry.   Most of the neighborhood kids called him “Horse Face Harry” because his face was long like that of a horse.   I do not remember the names of the other members of Lugo’s gang except for these three, Lugo, Sergio and Harry; they are forever etched into the recesses of my memory and they will never be forgotten. My family owned and operated a neighborhood candy store from 1967 to 1970.   We sold candy, soda, ice cream, milk and emergency household items (toilet paper, soap, Kleenex and laundry items).   We also made sandwiches and hoagies that we would sell; especially to the workers at the factory across...

Throwing Stones I am sure you have heard the saying, “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”   Of course, there are other sayings and quotes which make a similar point; don’t be too quick to judge.   I have to stop and think at times to question my own thought patterns and behaviors.   By nature, I am one who begins to analyze, observe a person upon my first meeting; my first impression.   I listen to the words and manner in how one communicates, watch body language for contradictions and keep one sided stories in mind hoping to hear validation from others who might tell me the same stories with their own twists.   I am also watching how one might interact or socialize with others.   Do your best not to watch movies with me based on a true stories, if I am not crying then I am clearly using my eyes and ears via analytical mode, ha, ha!   From my studies in Social Work, Pastoral Counseling and various readings in Human Behavior...

We Had to Fix This My favorite mug falls to the floor and breaks.   I am upset as I see the mug lying on the floor.   I pick up the mug and examine it, “We can fix this,” I say in relief.   The mug is a gift from my mother who knows how I love hot air balloons.   The members of the adult Sunday school class I was teaching had gone on a trip with our pastor who drove them to the Smithsonian Museums in Washington, DC.   It was on a weekday and I was not able to go; I either had to be at work or was taking an exam for class at college.   When I got home later that day my mother came to my house and presented me with the mug she bought with images of hot air balloons on it (I hope to ride in one someday).   I used the mug constantly for my coffee or tea drinking.   So I was really heartbroken when I dropped my mug that I had for over 25 years.   I went for ceramic glue and placed the only piece the snapped off; the handle was a clean break....

Mamita Domestic Violence and the impacts on family is part of my story.   As a boy at the age of five or six (my middle sister was about a year old) I had my first experience with violence and its impact on my own family; I was a child witness.   Although, at a young age, I did not comprehend what was happening; or recognize the “modus operandi” of abusers or know what one was supposed to do about it.   Deep within my being, all I knew was, “this can’t be right.” We lived in an apartment on the second floor above a corner “mom and pop” store.   My   Abuela, Mamita came to live with us in 1964.   She stayed with us for two years after vowing to return to Puerto Rico and this was why.   The day I first witnessed domestic violence, Mamita intervened.   One afternoon, we heard yelling and screaming above us.   My Dad was yelling and my Mom was screaming and crying.   I remember sitting frozen with fear in my chair, my brother in th...