A first-person account from off the beaten track, as told to Anne Ford.

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“My dad? Everybody loved my dad. He was always cracking wise. He was a lampshade-on-the-head kind of guy. He had a goat. Her name was Bella. He’d walk her down Devon Avenue. ‘What kind of dog is that?’ kids would ask him. My dad would say, ‘It’s a goat dog.’ He just showed up with that goat out of the blue, by the way. You’d send him out for some groceries, and he’d come back with a pinball machine.

“One time there were two guys fighting. One guy whistled out the door, and a whole bunch of gangbangers came running in. One of them grabbed a barstool and was about to throw it. I grabbed it out of his hand. I said, ‘Hey guys, the fight’s over, everything’s cool.’ This kid headbutted me. Chipped my tooth, knocked my glasses off. I said, ‘Okay, you win.’ What am I gonna do? I’m gonna fight seven, eight gangbangers? I picked up the phone and said, ‘You guys decide what you want to do. I’m calling the police.’ And they left.

“I have a feeling I’m gonna die here. I don’t see myself leaving. If I get old enough and I can’t hack all the kids, I’ll just put a lock on the door.”