The Greek Festival

The Greek Festival last night was wonderful, the food was totally yummy and the dancers were awesome.

...But on the way there we had a bit of a scary moment when cutting diagonally through Pioneer Park to get to the Greek Orthodox Church on the corner of 3rd S and 3rd W.

The sun hadn't even begun to touch the horizon, it was only a little after 6:00 pm. A frantic eyed woman (honestly, she looked and acted a bit...touched?) approached us and said in a panicked voice, "Do you have a cell phone? Do you?"

Thinking she might be some kind of panhandler I said, "No, no cell." When in truth it was nestled safely in my purse slung across my body. Ignoring what I said and walking backward now so as to face us, continuing her warning as we walked in the opposite direction, she spoke more loudly saying, "They're fighting over there. Really arguing! Call the police now before someone gets shot! I don't want to see a murder right in front of my face! I tell you! Someone's going to get killed!" I could hear more of her warning as it faded behind me and I started looking around for what might have frightened her. Ahead and to our right were a group of about 6-8 black men either poised menacingly or shoving and verbally abusing each other near the rest rooms near the center of the park. Even though I was walking with my big strong hubby we began walking faster. As big and strong and protective as he is, he isn't a man of steel and can only stop a bullet as well as anyone could, with much pain and blood involved. I clutched his hand tighter. We kept our eyes forward as we approached, came abreast, then passed the group. I murmured quietly to him through my teeth, "I hope we don't get shot just walking through the park tonight."


I felt a little better as we got further from them and I could no longer hear them when we came upon another group of young-ish men, mostly black and maybe a few Latinos arguing loudly, chins jutting forward aggressively across a couple of picnic tables. I tried to tune it out but I think 90% of their conversation consisted of the F*** word in all it's various forms accompanied by many threatening hand gestures featuring either their middle fingers or clenched fists.


All the stories about this park and the increased police presence there came back to me and I could feel my shoulders drawing up to my ears. A very typical sign of stress for me, and a reason that I see a chiropractor. Steven let go of my hand and gently put his arm around my shoulders as we continued on towards civilization just a hundred feet away. I could even hear the sound of Greek music and smell the food.


Ahhhhh...nothing between my shoulder blades but a throbbing ache from tension. I wonder if it would feel much worse to me in a war zone. Although I do remember seeing stuff like that on a regular basis during my High School years in So. California during the 70's. I don't remember feeling that stressed then.

Oh yeah, that was when I was an invincible teenager.

Needless to say we didn't cut through the park to get back to our car. We walked around it and watched the most gorgeous sunset on our way home.