Post by dewayne on Dec 18, 2004 22:23:55 GMT -6
I just finished writing the story below about a neighbor of mine for one of the newspapers I write for.
He lived three doors away. He was a regular at my neighborhood star parties.
Brian's murder would not have been prevented by more light as one neighbor seems to suggest. A sick mind operates no matter the amount of illumination.
This story has nothing to do with astronomy. But, I think there's a cautionary message here for astronomers. It makes me wonder just how safe any of us are when we're at the scope.
***
Brad Alexander was a ways from his Morton home as he paced back and forth Saturday afternoon in Peoria's East Bluff.
He was doling out bad news via the cell phone in his hand.
His brother Brian was dead. Brian's body had been found on his driveway, just yards from his back door.
Brad's gaze was downcast as he walked and talked. It appeared he was trying to avoid looking at his brother's house. Brad was walking on the sidewalk in front of 1618 N. New York Ave.
As Brad paced, friends stood in small groups around the house. They looked at the ground. They spoke in hushed tones to each other. Several of the men gathered appeared to be fighting back tears.
Some of them were approached by the police who hoped to get even the smallest shread of information. It was a one-way street. Police were not reciprocating with much information.
The police were not saying if they suspected foul play. That did not matter to those friends familiar with the neighborhood's reputation as one of the most crime-ridden nieighborhood's in Peoria.
Speculation was ripe that Brian had fallen victim to a violent crime, something not unheard of in the neighborhood.
They were proven right hours later when the police announced Brian had been shot once.
But at noon it was only speculation.
Brad finished his calls and made his way to a group of friends. Brad stood with his back to the house. He looked out to the street shaking his head.
"I'd tried to get him to move out of this neighborhood for a long time," Brad said. "This is exactly why I live in Morton."
Brad, and the others gathered on the street, had a lot of questions, and few answers at noon.
About all the police were offering was condolences.
By noon the Peoria County coroner had taken the body, and the yellow crime scene tape that had blocked the alley was gone. But the area was still closed off
until the detective working the case released it.
Brian's friends gathered in a neighbor's yard to see what they could.
Neighbors on the scene when police arrived, or shortly after, said the body showed no signs of trauma or blood.
The police said it might have just been a heart attack. That scenario did not fly with neighbors and friends because Brian was a cardiac nurse at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center.
The heart attack scenario went out the window with neighbors who saw the coroner turn the body over and find a pool of blood under Brian's body.
Brad heard this from neighbors. He also heard from the neighbors that at least two nearby residents had heard gunshots between 1:30 and 2 a.m.
That timeframe disturbed those gathered. They began putting a timeline together.
Brian had been at the Red Barn tavern in North Peoria, leaving the bar at 1:15 a.m. Friends, who had been with him at the bar, said he was headed home which would have put him home at about 1:30 a.m.
But another question nagged.
If Brian had been murdered what was the motive?
"The police said his keys, money, and ID were on his body," one man in the group of friends said. "It doesn't appear robbery was the motive. I don't get it."
As the police left the scene, not long after noon, friends moved to the scene where Brian's body had been found. There were no outward signs of violence. The blood had been cleaned up.
A number of people stood around the spot where their friend had fallen. They did not seem to know what to do.
Mitch Mitchell, who lives across the street, stood on the driveway where his friend, and neighbor's, body laid just a few hours before.
Mitchell shook his head as he looked up at a broken light fixture over the garage. "I'd been after him, for I don't know how long, to get that light fixed."
He lived three doors away. He was a regular at my neighborhood star parties.
Brian's murder would not have been prevented by more light as one neighbor seems to suggest. A sick mind operates no matter the amount of illumination.
This story has nothing to do with astronomy. But, I think there's a cautionary message here for astronomers. It makes me wonder just how safe any of us are when we're at the scope.
***
Brad Alexander was a ways from his Morton home as he paced back and forth Saturday afternoon in Peoria's East Bluff.
He was doling out bad news via the cell phone in his hand.
His brother Brian was dead. Brian's body had been found on his driveway, just yards from his back door.
Brad's gaze was downcast as he walked and talked. It appeared he was trying to avoid looking at his brother's house. Brad was walking on the sidewalk in front of 1618 N. New York Ave.
As Brad paced, friends stood in small groups around the house. They looked at the ground. They spoke in hushed tones to each other. Several of the men gathered appeared to be fighting back tears.
Some of them were approached by the police who hoped to get even the smallest shread of information. It was a one-way street. Police were not reciprocating with much information.
The police were not saying if they suspected foul play. That did not matter to those friends familiar with the neighborhood's reputation as one of the most crime-ridden nieighborhood's in Peoria.
Speculation was ripe that Brian had fallen victim to a violent crime, something not unheard of in the neighborhood.
They were proven right hours later when the police announced Brian had been shot once.
But at noon it was only speculation.
Brad finished his calls and made his way to a group of friends. Brad stood with his back to the house. He looked out to the street shaking his head.
"I'd tried to get him to move out of this neighborhood for a long time," Brad said. "This is exactly why I live in Morton."
Brad, and the others gathered on the street, had a lot of questions, and few answers at noon.
About all the police were offering was condolences.
By noon the Peoria County coroner had taken the body, and the yellow crime scene tape that had blocked the alley was gone. But the area was still closed off
until the detective working the case released it.
Brian's friends gathered in a neighbor's yard to see what they could.
Neighbors on the scene when police arrived, or shortly after, said the body showed no signs of trauma or blood.
The police said it might have just been a heart attack. That scenario did not fly with neighbors and friends because Brian was a cardiac nurse at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center.
The heart attack scenario went out the window with neighbors who saw the coroner turn the body over and find a pool of blood under Brian's body.
Brad heard this from neighbors. He also heard from the neighbors that at least two nearby residents had heard gunshots between 1:30 and 2 a.m.
That timeframe disturbed those gathered. They began putting a timeline together.
Brian had been at the Red Barn tavern in North Peoria, leaving the bar at 1:15 a.m. Friends, who had been with him at the bar, said he was headed home which would have put him home at about 1:30 a.m.
But another question nagged.
If Brian had been murdered what was the motive?
"The police said his keys, money, and ID were on his body," one man in the group of friends said. "It doesn't appear robbery was the motive. I don't get it."
As the police left the scene, not long after noon, friends moved to the scene where Brian's body had been found. There were no outward signs of violence. The blood had been cleaned up.
A number of people stood around the spot where their friend had fallen. They did not seem to know what to do.
Mitch Mitchell, who lives across the street, stood on the driveway where his friend, and neighbor's, body laid just a few hours before.
Mitchell shook his head as he looked up at a broken light fixture over the garage. "I'd been after him, for I don't know how long, to get that light fixed."
