I was reminded today of when my dad moved us to Upland, CA. I was a freshman in high school, not quite 14 yet. I didn't want to move, but as my dad's pay increased he had a nasty habit of into better neighborhoods.
He was an asshole.
Upland was supposed to be our last stop. It was a fairly affluent little city, gentrified (white), and safe.
Our front yard had a mostly unobstructed view of Mt. Baldy. We could breathe.
|Ignore the smog and the amazing mullet|
It wasn't gangs.
Our neighbor shot his girlfriend.
I got to my new high school and some kid stabbed a teacher. I lived in Upland, but went to school in Ontario. I literally was on the wrong side of the train tracks for Upland High. Upland High was this
I was stuck at Chaffey High School. But hey, stabbings aren't as bad as gun violence.
George H. W. Bush came and spoke at Chaffey while I was there. We had this beautiful auditorium that was somewhere around a hundred years old.
Some time after his visit someone shot up the front of that auditorium. So much for just knives.
The middle of my junior year I transferred to Upland High School.
The middle of my junior year there was a shooting at Upland High School. Some nerd walked up to some other nerd and just pulled the trigger. I don't know why. I just remember thinking, fuck.
My senior year a buddy of mine blew his brains out with a revolver.
The day I graduated I moved to Pasadena.