|| Originally published: New York : Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, .
|Formatted Contents Note:
|| Prelude to a summer -- May 4: The tightrope, a story in four parts -- May 12: Mother's Day -- May 23: A conversation: the OGs -- May 31: The tightrope, part two -- June 13: The tweets -- June 16: Father's Day -- June 24: The witnesses, part one -- July 5: The (annotated) eulogy -- July 8: I ain't going nowhere, part one -- July 14: Going home -- July 17: Day of atonement -- July 25: The two Geralds -- August 15: The tightrope, part three -- August 17: Artifacts -- August 22: I ain't going nowhere, part two -- August 24: This is what he remembers -- August 29: The disco tour -- August 31: The witnesses, part two -- September 8: The tightrope, part four -- September 19: False endings.
|| The numbers are staggering: over the past twenty years in Chicago, 14,033 people have been killed and another roughly 60,000 wounded by gunfire. What does that do to the spirit of individuals and community? Drawing on his decades of experience, Alex Kotlowitz set out to chronicle one summer in the city, writing about individuals who have emerged from the violence and whose stories capture the capacity -- and the breaking point -- of the human heart and soul. The result is a spellbinding collection of deeply intimate profiles that upend what we think we know about gun violence in America. Among others, we meet a man who as a teenager killed a rival gang member and twenty years later is still trying to come to terms with what he's done; a devoted school social worker struggling with her favorite student, who refuses to give evidence in the shooting death of his best friend; the witness to a wrongful police shooting who can't shake what he has seen; and an aging former gang leader who builds a place of refuge for himself and his friends. Applying the close-up, empathic reporting that made There Are No Children Here a modern classic, Kotlowitz offers a piercingly honest portrait of a city in turmoil. These sketches of those left standing will get into your bones. This one summer will stay with you.