God In Chicago

I see two men standing and talking by the side of the off ramp as I exit off the expressway onto Central Avenue, They are not holding any signs. They are not even facing the cars stopped at the red light. Yet, it looks like if they had a cool indoor place to go, they would rather be there.Across the street, in the median, another man paces slowly amidst the foam cups, plastic bags, and other litter scattered around the on-ramp to the expressway. I glance to my right, and see a whole pile of garbage dumped along the side of this exit.I made my way down Central through the Austin neighborhood on the city’s west side. I arrived on a beautiful stretch of Jackson Boulevard populated by well-maintained lawns, brick two-flats with a late 1950s architectural design, and one-story bungalows.What I did not know as I walked up the short set of concrete stairs towards the front entrance of my destination, was that just six weeks earlier two men had been murdered by gunfire on these very same steps, at nearly the same tim