"A few weeks back [Richard] was coming home late one night when someone flagged down his car, ordered him to roll down the window and pressed a gun to his temple. He heard the slow clicking of the trigger and quickly identified himself. When he heard Richard's name, his would-be assassin begged his forgiveness saying, 'Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you. You buried my mother a few months back.'" pg. 151

"Another hour went by with no shooting. A few church members arrived for the regular Sunday-morning service. 'I think we should cancel today,' Maxo told his father when they met again at the front gate. 'And what of the people who are here?' asked my uncle. 'How can we turn them away? If we don't open, we're showing our lack of faith. We're showing that we don't trust enough in God to protect us.'" pg. 173-74

"Besides, he was still hoping that the situation might somehow be resolved. He could talk to the dreads,...and explain. After all, before they were called dread or even chimeres, they were young men, boys, many of whom had spent their entire lives in the neighborhood. He knew their mother, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles and aunts." pg. 182