A shot was fired on Dean Street between Bedford and Nostrand Avenues in Crown Heights last night around 9pm, striking a victim in the chest. According to officers at the precinct reached by phone today, the victim survived and was taken to Kings County Hospital. The motive was unclear and an investigation is pending.
Two men were shot at dinner time on July 30, at a restaurant on Franklin Avenue and Dean Street.
In spite of the menial attention garnered by Brooklyn’s violent and pervasive drug trade in the local news media, borough residents are making sure you’ve heard about their loved one, or even strangers, senselessly gunned down – but they’re not snitching.
The morning after residents of Crown Heights took the Police Commissioner to task for drug dealing, prostitution and quality of life issues in the neighborhood, Ray Kelly was awarding the Deputy Inspector of their local 77th precinct a unit citation at Medal Day ceremonies.
The same precinct where, according to department statistics, crime has plummeted 18%.
“If you look at statistics at this precinct, they are very, very impressive,” Commissioner Kelly had told the crowded basement of Berean Baptist Church. “If you’re the victim of a crime, you don’t want to hear about statistics, I understand that, one crime is one crime too many – but the numbers here are really an indication of the work that’s being done.”
With all the talk about statistics, it sounded like the crowd was watching The Wire.
There was an elephant in the basement of Berean Baptist Church in Crown Heights on Monday, when Police Commissioner Ray Kelly spent an hour addressing the questions of residents concerned with violence, drugs and quality of life issues on the streets of the 77th precinct in Brooklyn.
That elephant came in the form of allegations that officers from the 77th assaulted two lesbian women outside of a local nightclub while spewing anti-gay remarks. The question never came up during the meeting and the commissioner gave a terse “no comment” when confronted with it on his way out the door.
I finally got a bike. It’s a vintage Fuji, and it belonged to my dad. I took it out for a spin through Prospect Park over Memorial Day weekend. I zoomed around the park, stopping to enjoy the lake for a bit, and again to listen to a drum circle where a large group of people were dancing. I sat on my bike, one foot on the curb, and took in the scene.