^^^^ Yes, you are correct. It was about family, trust and commmunity.

I have a friend, a lawyer. English, protestant, was living with his family in Fall River. His father was minister at my church.

He did some work for some members of the family, and had some contacts. As a young lawyer in a small town, he didn't have much money, and his one joy was a nice stereo in a shitty car, so he could listen to music as he drove to appointments, court, etc. On night, while he was asleep at the rectory, his nice stereo was stolen from his car in the driveway.

Being rather irritated about this, he called a friend and asked for some help. He didn't want charges, he just wanted his property back.

The next morning, his stereo was in a box on the front porch of the rectory with a note saying, "Sorry for the inconvenience, it won't happen again."

There was violence and corruption, but only if you asked for it. Generally, it was live and let live, with a "second level" of community existing alongside the "public" one.

quote:

There was violence and corruption, but only if you asked for it. Generally, it was live and let live, with a "second level" of community existing alongside the "public" one.

I completely agree.

It sounds funny to say it, but mafia hits were carefully planned not to hurt innocent people. That's why the style was two rounds of .22 from a foot away back of the ear.

My brother in law was in a coffee joint on a July afternoon when two guys walked in and shut the door. My brother in law said, "Yo, it's hot in here." And they drew pistols and said, as in a movie, "Yeah, and it's gonna get hotter." And they opened up on the phone booth where the target was "taking a call."

I lived in Providence for many years, this brings back memories.

FYI, you do not need a kindle e-reader to read a Kindle book. Such as Of Blood and Love. You can download the app on your computer at the Kindle Store-- for free.

Here is the opening of the episode called "Of Blood and Love," from which the book gets its title. It's too long to print the whole thing. But this is how it starts.



Of Blood and Love

The switchblade was in a cardboard display, fitted through two loops, one of two rows of imitation mother of pearl handled knives—yellow, blue, red, green. The classic stiletto design, thin handle, with a short, squiggly hand guard, and a six-inch blade. $1.29 was a lot of money in 1956. When I had saved enough, I ran to Leo’s Variety on Atwells Avenue, and he reached up to a shelf high over the comic books, “The blue one.” As soon as he touched it, I said, “I think.” It was a tough decision. Yellow was very cool. He gave me a look. “Yeah, blue.”

I handed him the money, and left the store— a fatherless eleven-year-old boy in a notoriously “bad neighbourhood” with a beautiful, razor sharp switchblade in my pocket. And a whole summer in front of me. As they say, “What could go wrong?”

As soon as I made the left turn down Sutton, I drew the weapon. The mother of pearl was almost iridescent, at some angles swirled with a cloudy white. I pressed the button near the hand guard—snap! The gleaming blade! From beautiful to deadly like lightening. Snap!

Press and hold the button, and I could fold the blade into the handle, like coiling a cobra back into the basket.

Snap! And fold. Snap! Fold. I couldn’t stop grinning.

I had picked it up and stuck it in the reading queue. Finally this story bubbled to the top.

If y’all haven’t picked this up yet, I recommend it. Great reading.

I’ve only visited Providence and then just once, around 1990-ish, so in the details I can’t relate directly. Yet, many personalities feel familiar from the rural South.