"The cop, the prostitute, the drug dealer, the scared grandmother who listens to the screams in the alley, the limping old man who was one of those screaming a few years ago and the teenage ‘bad-boy’ in the making all stood silent in their semi-circle of one intent. They watched the white lady kneeling in the muck of the dark alley. They’d seen her over the last week or so, walking this alley. She cooed, crept her arm forward, tentatively petted the hungry ball of fur and then grabbed it. The kitten screamed. The cop slammed her flashlight to the prostitute. “Hold this!” and came forward to close the carrier door. The limping old man tapped his cane in delight opening and closing his toothless gums. The scared grandmother clapped her hands in front of her chin and began to cry. The drug dealer praised Jesus. The prostitute, being terrified of cats, stood slack-jawed and wide-eyed having witnessed perhaps the greatest bravery she‘d ever seen. The cop in her home clothes was quiet, matter of fact, made intense eye-contact with the white lady while giving the slightest of nods, and was ever watchful of her surroundings. The white lady with grimy knees stood up with the noisy carrier and handed the 6” switchblade she’d just used to cut vines back to the bad-boy in the making who sheepishly accepted it under the cop‘s gaze. And behind them all, hanging through windows up and down the nighttime alley, backlit by the bare bulbs of their bedrooms, the Chester Alley background chorus joined in with waving hands and shouts of happiness. “Did you get it? Did you get it?” Yes, we got it. The kitten was rescued."

 I asked if this was a true story:

 "Yes, Alex Eisenberg, this was real. People press the boundaries to help as needed in this world, some do it politically, some socially. One of my callings is for the overlooked. Being a good street cat trapper is not something I saw coming in my life. But I am. So I do it...when I can sanely...and when I can at least imagine I am safe. I've helped over 500 in the last few years as an independent rescuer. There are millions of animals killed every year in 'shelters' because of overpopulation. Probably five times that die a suffering death on the street each year. So I do my best to spay/neuter them before more are born. This colony of 30 took me to a whole new level, bordering an alley where people get killed and a beautiful cemetery filled with the dead. It is only a few blocks from where I live. I must in some yet unimagined way claim not only these cats but these people as my community. Because of the gross abuse I reported (cat/kittens fed to dogs before dog fights to "give them the taste of blood, ya kno") many local rescue agencies came together to help. To my knowledge this is the first time all these historically territorial and back-biting groups worked side by side. This whole thing has been surreal. Is this a worthy part of The Great Turning or just a waste of time? It is easy for me to sit with artists as they ponder this same question as Robin did. As everything filters into my heart from this rescue I am grateful for the witnesses here."