As the Supreme Court ponders the fate of D.C.’s gun ban, a local Washington reader sends me this note:
I moved…to H & 3rd St NE last June for a job at the Department of [redacted]. I found a few girls who needed another roommate, and I naively assumed that walking to work would make my life relatively easy and uncomplicated. How bad could my block be, with the Capitol right up the street? It only took a week or two to realize that I was a bit out of my element (and this coming from someone who’s lived in places like Bang-Na, Thailand, and Amman, Jordan). I kept my eye on the google crime map and was disturbed by the number of muggings and break-ins on my block…Coming home at night was the worst, and I stopped doing it by myself altogether. October 10 came around and your article “Just Stand There While I Die” caught my eye on NRO. After I stopped laughing, I called up my best friend and said, “That’s it, I’m getting out of here.” I moved out 3 days later. I’m glad I did, because two weeks after I left, my roommate’s boyfriend was held up at 9pm outside the house at knifepoint by five teenagers. They got his wallet, which had all of a dollar (ignoring his $500 leather jacket, $60 bottle of wine and antique $150 umbrella). So thanks for possibly saving my wallet, or my life.