Wrice and her husband, Tony, along with practically everybody on the 400 block of Hansberry Street, rushed outside to see a white Chevy Caprice Keystone cab with yellow checkered stripes, its wheels spinning furiously and smoking engine revving rapidly, pinned between two wrecked cars.
Inside was Selby, his body slumped against the seat, blood dripping from the wound in his left chest. A neighborhood doctor and other residents tried to assist, but he was dead.
Selby's murder followed that of another cab driver, Darryl White, 34, who died in a similar fashion on Wednesday.
In White's case, police arrested a 38-year-old Germantown man, Larry Nicholson, last week. They are still on the hunt for Selby's killer, who likely was trying to rob him, investigators said.
``We've got guys who've been robbed. We've got guys who have been shot,'' said Jerome Edens, a Keystone Co. dispatcher who knew Selby. ``We've never had a guy get killed.''
From several interviews with family members, friends and neighbors outside the red-brick apartment complex at 177 Hansberry Street where Selby lived alone for the past 15 years, it appears that the cab driver was a driven man who worked aound the clock to put his son, Robert Jr., through college.
``He was a hard-working man,'' said Alan Miller, 54, who has lived in the building for 30 years. ``The only time you saw him was when he was coming and going from work. And he would always be by himself.''
``It's a shame for something like this to happen to a good, decent working man like Selby.''
Rose Bryce, Selby's cousin, arrived at the complex yesterday afternoon after hearing about his death on a television news broadcast.
``I was devastated,'' when she heard the news, she recalled. ``Nobody can imagine what it's like to have a loved one's name being mentioned on TV.
``I jumped and screamed, 'They killed my cousin! They killed my cousin!' That's all I could say.''
Bryce said she and other relatives regretted not keeping in closer touch with Selby. She said that she had spoken to him last week for the first time in several months, in part because she was concerned about him after hearing of the shooting of Darryl White.
``We talked for 45 minutes,'' she said in a trembling voice. ``It wasn't long enough, because I'll never be able to talk to him again.''
Colleagues at Selby's company described him as straightforward in manner, and as a man who disliked confrontation.
Often, Edens recalled, Selby would have a customer who refused to pay up, an occurrence that's common for cab drivers. Instead of calling the police, Selby would ``chalk it up as a loss'' and ``keep moving on,'' Edens said.
Over the years, the formerly quiet Germantown block has been riven with gangs, drugs and prostitutes. Sprayed graffiti decorate the walls of several boarded-up houses. A few blocks down, prostitutes walk the streets, and residents say there has been a spate of recent robberies.
``On a quiet street like this, five or 10 years ago it wasn't anything like this,'' said Tony Wrice. ``Kids could run and play. Now a new monster is on the prowl. It's not Jurassic Park, but it's like Hansberry Park - the monster is the drugs, the violence and the prostitution.''
Keala Goldsboro, 29, who has lived on the block for most of his life, said he wasn't surprised at Selby's death.
``The only reason we're hearing about this now is because two cab drivers got killed in the same week,'' he said. ``It's not new. We go to sleep to gunfire every night.''
