Violence

This time it was not in the inner city where violence showed its ugly face, but in middle-class and usually tranquil Tacony: In a moment of madness, Christa Lewis, 16, an honor student and athlete at St. Hubert's High School, died a senseless death before she had a chance to live a meaningful life. Friday evening was going to be a night of wild fun, a night of laughter and of teenagers being young and carefree at a neighborhood carnival across the street from Christa's school.

A KEY QUESTION: DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR CHILD IS? WINNING ESSAY It's 6:00 p.m. "Latoya, go to the laundromat and get the dirty clothes out of my house now. " "But mom, you know I have to go to practice. " "I don't care. You should have thought about that before you left these clothes in my house for three days. " At the laundromat: "Oh, you talking trash. " "What you going to do, huh?" What was that? Bang, bang, bang. Latoya dies.

Last Wednesday was the night of decision for seven members of the Wrightstown Friends Meeting in Newtown. For months, they had planned to visit Guarjila, a repopulated area of civil war-torn El Salvador. But violence during the recent presidential election there made them reconsider. At the Newtown home of one of the people in the group, members discussed their fears and those of their families and friends. Newspaper headlines screamed of the violence. American embassy officials said they would not be able to ensure the safety of the group.

For the second time in almost a year, the same family in the city's Schuylkill neighborhood has lost a son to violence. Early yesterday, Joseph McGuire was awakened by Homicide Division detectives at his home in the 600 block of South Taney Street and told that his son Thomas, 25, had been fatally shot a short distance away while driving alone in his girlfriend's car. Last April 17, authorities said, Joseph McGuire, a retired Water Department...

A visitor to Sayre High School Friday morning might never have known that only 24 hours earlier, one student was injured during a shoot-out that occurred on school grounds. It all seemed so normal, so routine. Outside, no police tape was strung. No uniformed officers, or any other adults, were visible keeping watch. Inside the West Philadelphia school, kids attended classes, practiced drums in the auditorium, and noisily filled the halls when the bell rang. But a closer look betrays the cost of violence in the city: students fearful to walk to and from school; a bullet hole in a nearby rowhouse that reminds residents they cannot be too comfortable or confident at home.

IFEEL SUCH anguish with regard to the violence that continuously plagues our city. Unfortunately, I'm all too familiar with the devastating effects of the senseless killing. I've lost a dear cousin, my brother's best friend and, most recently, the love of my life. I wonder if anyone has considered the impact this endless carnage is having on our children. To say my 13-year-old son has been traumatized is an understatement - he's lost three good, decent and influential men in his life in addition to several friends gone too soon.

A 14-YEAR-OLD killed riding his bike because he didn't pedal fast enough. A 16-year-old killed for his shiny new bike. A man who dodged bullets from enemy fire while serving his country comes home for a visit, and is killed. This is the city in which I live. This is the city in which you live. Yet, no one is angry. My question is, "What will it take?" Prayer is good, but it will take more than prayer to stop a bullet. Vigils are good, but it will take more than vigils to stop a bullet.

Learn what you can do to prevent violence in your home and school during a forum at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday at Council Rock High School. The event, "Violence: A Rising Health Care Concern," will feature three guest speakers: Chukwudi Onwuachi-Saunders, an epidemiologist with the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta; Barbara Simmons, executive director of the Bucks County Peace Center, and Charles Wyant, a youth investigating officer with the Northampton...

For Kosovo and Littleton, Colorado Some thought it might come slowly, a darkness spreading like a bruise over every rooftop or some thought it would come without discretion in a clatter of machinery, how many gears how many blades whirring and singing last songs or some thought it might come under the cover of silence something as invisible as pollen drifting down settling in all the crevices and some wanted not...