“Sportcoat had rheumatic fever,” declared Sister Veronica Gee, the president of the Cause Houses Tenant Association and wife of the minister at Five Ends Baptist Church, where Sportcoat had served for fifteen years.
The morning after the shooting, the daily gathering of retired city workers, flophouse bums, bored housewives, and ex‑ convicts who congregated in the middle of the projects at the park bench near the flagpole to sip free coffee and salute Old Glory as it was raised to the sky had all kinds of theories about why old Sportcoat did it. His late wife, Hettie, had been the Christmas Club treasurer of his church. He had coached the projects baseball team for fourteen years.
There were a lot of theories floating around the projects as to why old Sportcoat-a wiry, laughing b rown‑skinned man who had coughed, wheezed, hacked, guffawed, and drank his way through the Cause Houses for a good part of his s eventy‑one y ears-shot the most ruthless drug dealer the projects had ever seen. 38 Colt in the face of a nineteen‑year‑old drug dealer named Deems Clemens, and pulled the trigger. That’s the day the old deacon, known as Sportcoat to his friends, marched out to the plaza of the Causeway Housing Projects in South Brooklyn, stuck an ancient.
DEACON CUFFY LAMBKIN OF FIVE ENDS BAPTIST CHURCH became a walking dead man on a cloudy September afternoon in 1969.
0 kommentar(er)
