Washington Heights (For Real Though)

It’s the early 90’s and there are housewives without husbands wrapping their fingers around the pockets of the fences at the gate of P.S. 189 in upper Manhattan in New York City. One of them is my mother and it is noon time; recess for all their children. Waving and calling out the names of each of their children and conversing with other moms in Spanish.

These mothers would keep vigilant over their own children about two hours every single fall and spring. Aims at preventing a recruitment into a very prominent local gang called the Latin Kings.

Everyday these mothers put their literal backs in danger for their children during recess. Fully aware that rival gangs such as the bloods and the crips, both African American based could show up at any time with weapons at hand. After faithfully checking on the welfare of their own children they would go back home for lunch and return to pick up their children in the afternoon.

I have lived in Washington Heights and Inwood Heights all my life. A matter of 35 years. This neighborhood exists on the upper west side of Manhattan in New York City. Washington Heights starts at 155th street and ends at 193rd street. Inwood Heights starts from Dyckman street to 224th street.

Washington Heights is connected to the George Washington Bridge, allowing for easy access to people from New Jersey. As well as the Trans-Manhattan Expressway, which is part of the I-95, giving people from upstate New York a chance to come to Washington Heights.

I was born in the mid 80’s right in the heart of one of the most notorious drug dealing neighborhoods in America where crack cocaine was sold. Washington and Inwood Heights fell victim to redlining before its inhabitants knew that now popular term. Its inhabitants were mostly deriving from the Dominican Republic, which is on the island of Hispaniola in the Caribbean.

When the Dominicans started moving into Washington Heights in the late 70’s to the early 90’s, most of the Greeks, Italians, Jews and even some Irish packed their luggage and moved to Staten Island, Long Island, upstate New York and Connecticut.

With the exodus of these ethnic groups came a need to declare territory. Many Dominicans’ career choices in Washington Heights became the whole sale of crack cocaine. At first these drug dealers sold in vacated apartments.

Eventually the amount of people selling outnumbered the local police force’s ability to restrain the drug activity and so $10 vials of crack cocaine was sold openly on just about every block.

Things got so bad that the 34th precinct in upper Manhattan needed to be split into another post called the 33rd precinct.

The media were old friends of ours… News anchors from Eyewitness News, CBS and NBC would come to our neighborhood. There were daily huddles on many blocks. Pedestrian training included “You did not hear anything.”“You did not see anything..” All the reporters looked like April O’Neil from “The Teenage Mutant Turtles “ with puffy hair sprayed tresses and shoulder pads inside their blazers.

Drug dealers sold drugs so they could buy BMW’s, Ferrari’s and expensive clothing such as Fubu, Nautica, Calvin Klein, Tommy Hillfiger, North Face and Fila. In the 90’s in Washington Heights if you didn’t have name brand urban wear you weren’t shit.

The drug dealing actually brought a great stream of cash flow into Washington Heights. Those same dealers that invaded our streets were purchasing tremendous amounts of clothing, shoes and jewelry from stores on 181 street such as Woolworth’s and Wertheimer’s.

Washington Heights bystanders, gang members and drug dealers were shot and killed daily. You could see shrines with candles on many blocks. Some loved ones drew murals on the sidewalk floors weekly. As children we made sure not to step on those murals because it was considered bad luck.

These drug dealers were not afraid to shoot other drug dealers in broad daylight. There were many days that my mother did not just take me to school; she flew me to school. My brother, sister and my feet never touched the ground when the bullets rang out on school day mornings. Immigrants run fast; I can promise you that. My mother was quite the sprinter.

Finally towards the mid 2000’s the 33rd and 34th precinct were able to decrease the crime rates drastically. Most of these drug dealers are either dead or incarcerated. The area has experienced significant gentrification. A constant flow of new residents from outside the city.

Due to the coronavirus pandemic I have quickly seen many non-natives return to their family homes in their own states with luggage and a newfound appreciation for their homestead. Once again my neighborhood is Dominican again and that is quite alright with me.