Choppers

Living in West Hollywood, Tracy and I have gotten fairly used to urban noises, both traditional (police sirens, fire engines, traffic) and L.A.-specific (arguing Russian teenagers, arguing Russian old folks, muscle cars being worked on at 11 p.m.). And one of the big sources of noise is helicopters; news and police 'copters routinely prowl the skies above our house, following car chases, traffic accidents and jams, celebrities on the move, movies premieres, and who-knows-what. Even at their most intense — when it sounds like a chopper is about to land on our street — they usually go away before too long.

Somewhere between 5 and 6 this morning, the noise of helicopters became so loud Tracy and I both woke up. After attempting to sleep through it for almost an hour, I eventually admitted defeat, and went to the computer to find out what was going on. I couldn't find anything on local news sites or gossip columns; I assumed Paris Hilton was going back to jail or something and took a shower.

But that wasn't what happened. Leanne filled me in when I called her to arrange a carpool: police responded to a report of an "injured man," who apparently attack the officers on scene, stabbing one of them in the hand. The police then opened fire, killing the man.

After Leanne gave me that information, I found this report. Walking down the block, I could look up Curson and see the crime scene taped off a few streets away, and watch the officers working the scene.

Yikes. My initial reaction is to back the police up on this one; not knowing the full circumstances, I can only imagine how I'd react if someone came at me with a knife. That being said, it's a tragedy no matter what, and a little unsettling. This is the third violent death in the neighborhood in as many weeks; police killed another man in an altercation at the beginning of the month, and while Kevin and Sarah were here, an elderly man was stabbed to death not far from where we walked on our way to Pinks. Not a happy trend at all.

I still feel safe walking the streets, and believe our neighborhood to be a good and comfortable one. It just goes to show, things go wrong no matter where you are.