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Showing posts with label Mission District. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mission District. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
A War of Violence - For Silvia Solorzano
THIS POST IS DEDICATED, WITH MUCH LOVE, TO SILVIA SOLORZANO
One of my most beloved friends is a feisty social worker from Nicaragua who used to be my colleague at the San Francisco Rape Treatment Center. Silvia Solorzano went on to help immigrants seeking asylum from atrocities in their home countries and to work as a therapist at San Francisco's Mission Mental Health Center. This woman, who has cared for so many of the indigent poor of our city, has suffered incredible pain.
On January 7, 1998, her 37-year-old son, Daniel Solorzano, was outside a corner store in San Francisco's Mission District, when a car drove by and the passenger in the car shot at a man standing bedside Daniel. Somehow, the bullet ended up hitting Daniel. After thirteen days in ICU at San Francisco General Hospital - and over two hundred transfusions of blood later, this dear young man died, leaving behind a bereft family which included two children, ages 7 and 8.
San Francisco's Homicide Division tried to find the assailant, without success. Silvia wrote an impassioned "Letter to the Murderer of My Son" which was printed in the San Francisco
Chronicle.
A few years ago, news finally surfaced about Danny's killer. A man, incarcerated for immigration violation, had told another inmate he was responsible for the crime. Eventually, he
is supposed to be brought to San Francisco for trial. Poor Silvia, it is twelve years later but, perhaps, she will feel some sense of closure if this man is held responsible for the loss of her son. May Daniel rest in peace.
Unending Violence
An eye for an eye,
And a tooth for a tooth,
Cry warring gang members,
Destroying our youth.
Some are off fighting,
In distant Iraq,
But even at home,
You must watch your back.
The streets are not safe,
The streets are not safe,
Nights are rampant with crime,
Children are dying,
Not yet in their prime.
What a horrible thought,
An eye for an eye,
A gunshot rings out,
Then, a mother’s sad cry.
Carmen Henesy
Copyright (c) 2010 by Carmen Henesy
Carmen Henesy
Copyright (c) 2010 by Carmen Henesy
All rights reserved.
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