The Sound of a Gun

WICHITA, Kan. -- Until 24 hours ago, I'd never heard the sound of bullets leaving a handgun.

I've lived a pretty sheltered life. The places I've lived, Boston, Albany and Hong Kong, primarily, are all pretty safe, especially in the areas of town that I was living in. Wichita, as I've written before, is different.

Yesterday I had a wonderful evening out in Wichita. There's a local bar that screens old movies outside in the summer, so some colleagues and I went over after work for a couple drinks and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I returned slightly after midnight, and was typing a quick entry for this blog when I heard a loud bang. It came from the north, but sounded really close and echoed. Closely behind that first noise were four more.

I hit the deck - or at least jumped off the couch and onto the floor. My apartment's small, and there's precious few places to hide. I wished for a hidden annex and/or a root cellar. But I had none. I wasn't sure what the noises were, but it didn't sound terribly good.

I grabbed my handy book -- still reading Paul Theroux, by the way -- and spent 20 minutes on the floor, nervously reading about Welsh trains. Then I decided that since I was due at work before 7 the next day, it was time to go to bed. After all that excitement, I fell asleep quite easily, until ---

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

My first thought was that I'd overslept, and that my editors were banging on the door for me to come into work. (I'd just woken up, go with me.) I stumbled over to the door, my now rather long hair standing several inches into the air and squinting without my glasses. The man introduced himself as a Wichita police officer, I was far too tired to remember his name.

He wanted to know if I saw anything that evening.

"I heard some shots, just after midnight. But I didn't see anything.'

He didn't say anything.

"By the way officer, what happened?"

Turns out there was a drive-by right across the way, on a little street that runs past my side of the apartment complex. The home was literally across the street, not more than 60 feet from where I'm typing this now. There were flashing lights when I peered out the door. The officer said no one was hurt, took my name and phone number for possible follow up, and woke up Oscar next door.

One of the blessings and curses of being the sometime police reporter here at the Eagle is that I get to find out exactly what happened in incidents like these. The story as it stands now is that there were two shootings last night, both gang-related. The second shooting -- the one by my house -- was actually a walk-by shooting, and no one was hurt, thankfully. But teenagers are in the hospital for a related incident uptown.

I know this stuff happens in Albany and Boston and Hong Kong, but I managed to live 21 years without seeing it. Now I've been here two months and been involved with two violent crimes.

So, do I feel safe and sound in the Heartland? Not likely.