Needles in a Trashpile

Fall River's Number One Problem

I don't know why I get shocked or stunned anymore with news like this. The phone rang at a strange hour of the night, and I knew it couldn't be good. It wasn't. Another young man was gone among the many who have been lost in Fall River's version of the war on drugs. Another young life cut way too short. But this one was a little different. Every life is valued unquestionably, but this was a young man whom I had coached and known, a young man who had potential and didn't deserve the drastic fate he encountered. There are no fancy funeral processions, no full honors for the victims of the war on drugs right here in our city - a drug war that has taken way too many lives and has touched each and every family through the SouthCoast. It's a war that we are losing on a daily basis despite the constant infusion of funds to our law enforcement and penal facilities to fight this.

The latest victim was 27 years old. In fact, I know most of his friends - not friends from the life that ultimately claimed him, friends from the life that I knew: Boys & Girls Club friends, Columbus Park friends, real, good friends. They were a special group. They liked sports, music, and hanging out with their friends, friends with ties that bind. Friends like Jose, Peter, and Billy. The friends that I saw with their eyes swollen with tears, shaking their head shocked that such a cruel fate could happen to one of their own.

All the politicians and all the pundits can step on their soap box and tell you all about Fall River, talking about things that Fall River needs: a commuter rail, a casino, the perpetual carrot for decades now. While it's true that Fall River needs all of these things, the biggest thing it needs to realize is that the number one problem is the heroin, oxycontin, opiate epidemic that has had Fall River in a death grip for decades. Make no mistake about it, folks. Take a look around you, and you will see its effects all over the SouthCoast. Shattered dreams, fractured families, and many lives lost all around us. Many like the 27-year-old that I had once known, I had once coached, and who is the subject of this blog post.

I remember distinctly talking to his friends about how nice his mother was and how well she treated everyone in the neighborhood. I remember them talking about his personality and his love and loyalty to his friends from his old neighborhood. I also watched them with sunken eyes and deflated shoulders talk about the destruction that the opiate epidemic has left on their childhood group of friends.
One of them said to me, "Who the fuck would have thought this when we were all at the Boys Club and Columbus Park when we were 12 years old?" I shook my head and said, "I know. Believe it or not, this one shocked and surprised me." But the reality is that no one should be shocked or surprised, especially me. I've seen it too many times.




This is the first installment in a series running all week looking at Fall River's crippling opiate/heroin epidemic. We have made a commitment at HurricaneRadio.net to bring you news and information in a much more direct, street-level way as only new media outlets can provide. This is the first of many, taking a hard, close look at the issues affecting all of us.







Coming next, Hurricane takes a walk, and you won't believe what he finds.

Interview with the Hurricane Part 2

Interview with the Hurricane Part 1

Hurricane Radio...A walk through of the studio...

The Ups, the Downs, the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

What a wild and crazy summer it has been. From the dark depths of the Ash Street Jail to the sunny shores of Horseneck Beach to the 500-plus miles I've walked through our fair city to minor league  basketball teams and all points in between, it has been an eventful summer - to say the least. The following is a few thoughts, a few tidbits, and a few ramblings on the many things going on in my life that I've seen throughout my travels.

First thing's first: The Internet radio deal has been an amazing experience. From putting the business plan together in the solitary cell in the oldest active jail in the US to the practice session we just had 20 minutes ago, putting the deal together has been a whirlwind experience. I knew that I could handle the talent end of it; I knew that I could sell, and I knew that I could market and organize. However, there has been just so much more that I don't think anybody could have foreseen. From dealing with ASCAP to the technical troubles and difficulties of getting the phone lines hooked up over the Internet, the strange meeting at the Chamber of Commerce, the financials, and all of the tedious issues that go along with forming an LLC, it has been a difficult and rewarding process that uniquely beats you up and brings you up every day.

Today, for example, I had just got out of the shower, having a late start to my day with a million things that I had to do. I found myself questioning why I had decided to take on an endeavor this big and this abstract with limited finances and lots of pressure, the size of this deal could overwhelm the strongest among us.

I had a little case of the blues and a little bit of the woe-is-me attitude. But then, suddenly, the blues that were creeping in got a serious stiff-arm. And it dawned on me that what we were doing has never been done not only in this area, but also in New England - a commercially viable talk radio, Internet, and music station. And I felt a chill go through me and the realization that I was involved in something so innovative and groundbreaking and something that people all around to talk about for years and years to come. I thought about my daughter and how proud she would be of her father if this thing becomes as successful as I believe it can be. The treasure of this endeavor is in the journey: the ups, the downs, the affirmations, the rejections - all of it. I wouldn't change any of it for anything in the world. This is the road less traveled, but it is the road to the future. And to be doing this in the middle of the Arts Overlay District in my city that is over 200 years old put a huge smile on my face as I hopped into my recently purchased $300 car and began the daily duties of Hurricaneradio.net.

Now, I'm going to give you the good, the bad, and the ugly of my weekend.

The good: Again, it was my privilege to be invited to an unbelievable party at the house of Mario Lucciola. It is done with an Italian flavor and fare that hasn't been seen in this city since the old Festa Italiana at the old Holy Rosary Church. The party originally started as old friends and family from the Holy Rosary Parish and has morphed into the culinary and social event of the summer. It's heartwarming being around so many of my old friends and neighbors, and to see the generations of people mingling gave me a great feeling. From the Italian pizza on the grill to the white spaghetti and little necks, the fresh steaks, the delectable Italian desserts - all of it was truly unique. Fall River used to be a place that had strong ethnic neighborhoods centered around their churches and their social clubs. For one weekend a summer, that happens for the Italians and their friends at Mario Lucciola's house. It's simply Fall River at its finest, and I was honored to be invited and have a wonderful time with great friends.

The bad: This weekend, I walked probably over 10 miles through the city. One thing that is the most defeating and sickening is the graffiti in the city - mindless, tasteless trash. Recently, walking by one of Fall River's most iconic buildings, the flat-iron building at the top of Plymouth Avenue, I had admired the hard work that the owners of the building did in fixing up the first level - they painted and manicured the first level and made a significant commitment to make the building more aesthetically pleasing. Shortly after admiring their hard work, I was shocked and apalled at seeing the mindless, idiotic graffiti that was scrawled on the side of the building. I couldn't help thinking what a kick in the gut to the owners, who had made a serious financial commitment to making their building look better. After that, I continued to see graffiti sprawled over business after business from the top of Plymouth Ave. to my downtown studio location. It is defeating to see it. It is a quality of life issue that must be paid attention to. It is everywhere, and it has to stop if we are going to be the progressive city that we often talk about.

The ugly: There are way too many grown folks in this city walking around in this city at all time of the day in their pajamas. These people wear pajamas to the doctor's office, the supermarket, the bank, the corner store. They walk around in the middle of the day without any sense of decorum or any sense of self-respect. Now I'm not saying that people should go about their daily chores in their Sunday best. However, the amount of people whom I see dressed as if they just rolled out of bed makes you think we're in zombie land or at a perpetual pajama party. Adults with young children going about their affairs dressed like they just rolled about of bed - the sad part of this is it's how their going to stay dressed for the entire day. It blows my mind that people think it's ok to carry themselves this way. "Pajama Mamas" are on patrol: check them out daily on a city street near you.

Let He Who Has No Sin Cast the First Stone

It's amazing. With the city's biggest economic move in generations, the casino deal, up in flames at the Statehouse due to a machismo contest between Governor Patrick and Speaker DeLeo, you would think that huge story and the many ripples and ramifications of that deal going south would be the story you'd expect on the cover of the Sunday Herald News - the most important piece of real estate on its most important day.

If not the casino, then maybe the story would be the fact that young, qualified college graduates can't get jobs in their own city, the hundreds of heroin traps, hundreds of crack cocaine dens, capital infrastructure failing around us, transportation projects that can't get finished, voter turn-out at less than 30%, trash and graffiti assaulting everyone's quality of life, or apathy everywhere. You would think these topics would be worthy of the attention, energy, and focus from our local newspaper. Instead, it's "gotcha" journalism, "gotcha" politics in a huge story and picture about City Councilor Brian Bigelow allegedly getting caught in a downtown prostitution sting. Whether Mr. Bigelow is innocent or guilty we will ultimately find out. However, he has certainly lost his presumption of innocence.

Innocent until proven guilty simply doesn't exist anymore in this tabloid culture, and if you are a public figure, it's much, much worse. The negative attention Mr. Bigelow is getting right now is torturous; it will wear down and beat you up in so many ways. People will look at him differently. He will feel the public scorn intensely. All of the good work that he's done in so many capacities will no longer be talked about. Instead, this man is going to be talked about, gossiped about, whispered about, as the city councilor with a big picture on the front page of the Herald getting arrested in a prostitution sting. The TV news trucks will surround his house, and he will become public fodder for all who have nothing better to do. He'll go through all of this pain, suffering, and scorn well before he ever has his day in court and has an opportunity to tell his side of the story. And that is wrong. For those who judge, shame on you.

After decades of community service and commitment, promoting positive energy, his family's impact as a positive influence in our schools for generations, Mr. Bigelow, because of one alleged mistake, has his head being called for in the comments section of our local newspaper. They are demanding that he lose all three of his jobs and positions: city council, Diman's school committee, and employment at the Bristol County House of Corrections. With all the good that he's done in one night, with just one side of the story told, people want him to lose everything he has earned and worked so hard for. Where do people get off villifying and judging one man on one of his worst nights? I wonder if the gossips and critics would take an examination of their own lives before they are so quick to judge and belittle others.

A lifetime of solid citizenry, generosity, and dedication is all irrelevent to some now. I prefer to look at the body of work of the man, on his best days, on his worst days, on his positive and negative effect on people and his community. I prefer to look at the total picture, to have faith in the rights given to us by the Constitution that you're innocent until proven guilty and allowed due process.

I will not judge Mr. Bigelow entirely on this incident. He will get my benefit of the doubt. I feel strongly that he and his family deserve that much from me - and all of us - for everything that they've done. Everybody today is so quick to throw people, relationships, and their peers away like yesterday's trash. What happened with Mr. Bigelow this weekend, I'm sure, has been extremely difficult to deal with, and, to me, he has already paid a very steep price.