Thirty-nine years ago, at least 38 witnesses heard and saw a woman named Kitty Genovese being beaten and stabbed to death on a New York street. It created headlines and horror around the world, because her middle-class neighbours refused to get involved.
That meant they didn't help her, they didn't chase off her attacker, they didn't even call the police until it was far too late. That was Queens in March, 1964.
Welcome to Bolo Alley, August, 2003.
It's true that big-city crime and violence don't have the global shock value they used to, and that there may be many good reasons for not answering the door to a panic-stricken stranger in the wee hours of the morning. But isn't it more than a merely sad thing that both those statements happen to be true in a city once known for its warmth and its neighbourhoods.
There can be few things more terrible than being rejected by your neighbours, your fellow Bahamians in the final hour of your most desperate need. It doesn't really matter how you got there and why, it's just that you're there and in trouble and you'll die alone because nobody wants to get involved.
Editorial, The Nassau Guardian
