![soulbrotherv2:
This is truly a tragic story, and I deplore dealing in negativity, but it is, nevertheless, one that most be told and not forgetten:“The Short, Violent Life of Robert “Yummy” Sandifer: So Young to Kill, So Young to Die,” by Nancy R. Gibbz
On a bright September afternoon last week, the mothers of Chicago’s South Side brought their children to a vigil for a dead boy they had never met. They wanted their kids to see the scrawny corpse in the loose tan suit lying in a coffin, next to his stuffed animals, finally harmless. The big kids dragged the little kids up to look at the stitches on his face where the bullets fired into the back of his head had torn through. The only picture the family could find for the funeral program was a mug shot. “Take a good look,” said the Rev. Willie James Campbell. “Cry if you will, but make up your mind that you will never let your life end like this.”
Parents hoped to haunt their children; maybe fear would keep them safe. Lynn Jeneta, 29, took her nine-year-old son Ron. If he got scared enough, she decided, “maybe then he wouldn’t be lying there himself one of these days.” She pushed him right up to the coffin. Ron tried to stay calm. “Some kids said Yummy looked like he was sleeping, but he didn’t look like he was sleeping to me.” What exactly then did he look like? “Kind of like he was gone, you know?” His composure melts. “When Mama pushed me forward, I thought I was going to fall right in the damn coffin. That gives me nightmares, you know? Can you imagine falling into a coffin?” [Read complete article.]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/9232d39ec043f5a9985c2d4beb0d6957/tumblr_mm5nlabZFl1qe25w3o1_500.jpg)
This is truly a tragic story, and I deplore dealing in negativity, but it is, nevertheless, one that most be told and not forgetten:
“The Short, Violent Life of Robert “Yummy” Sandifer: So Young to Kill, So Young to Die,” by Nancy R. GibbzOn a bright September afternoon last week, the mothers of Chicago’s South Side brought their children to a vigil for a dead boy they had never met. They wanted their kids to see the scrawny corpse in the loose tan suit lying in a coffin, next to his stuffed animals, finally harmless. The big kids dragged the little kids up to look at the stitches on his face where the bullets fired into the back of his head had torn through. The only picture the family could find for the funeral program was a mug shot. “Take a good look,” said the Rev. Willie James Campbell. “Cry if you will, but make up your mind that you will never let your life end like this.”
Parents hoped to haunt their children; maybe fear would keep them safe. Lynn Jeneta, 29, took her nine-year-old son Ron. If he got scared enough, she decided, “maybe then he wouldn’t be lying there himself one of these days.” She pushed him right up to the coffin. Ron tried to stay calm. “Some kids said Yummy looked like he was sleeping, but he didn’t look like he was sleeping to me.” What exactly then did he look like? “Kind of like he was gone, you know?” His composure melts. “When Mama pushed me forward, I thought I was going to fall right in the damn coffin. That gives me nightmares, you know? Can you imagine falling into a coffin?” [Read complete article.]
Welp. This is why flat income taxing really wouldn’t be fair. If a millionaire pays 50% in taxes, they still have $500,000 to their name. If someone making $8.00/hr pays 50% they have $8,320.
Not exactly fair, is it?
