In what I think was my first four hours on the job, I responded to a rape, attempted murder by stabbing, and a guy about my age with his face slashed to the cheek bone then through to his tongue. All three unarmed.
New York City in the early 1990s has been described as many things, few of them complimentary.
The administration of Mayor David Dinkins was plagued with political and police corruption scandals, and some of the highest crime rates in the history of the city. Murders and violent crimes were up, tourism was down. The Mollen Commission hearings saw confidence in the New York Police Department drop dramatically. As a result, crime soared.
On the southeast corner of 181st Street and Ryer Ave in The Bronx stands the 46th Precinct, The Alamo, a place Time Magazine once called, “The Most Dangerous Square Mile In America.” So dangerous a place, that in the late 1980s that the Red Cross refused to send volunteers to help the needy.
And that was where I worked. The “four six” as we called it, was an “A House.” The busiest of the busy. The worst of the worst.
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