Telling Stories About Crime is Hard. That’s No Excuse for Not Doing Better.

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It was May 2003. The photographer and I were in a grocery store parking lot in the better part of Washington, DC. We chain-smoked and waited for disaster to strike. When the police scanner crackled we cranked up the car and headed across town, over the Anacostia River to one of the most chronically violent sections of the city.

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