Philadelphia is “The City of Brotherly
Love”. Yet, it always seems to be on the
verge of an explosion.
The
PUBLISHER’S
Pen
I used to work with a couple of brothers
from Philly years ago: Netfa and
Abayomi. We all were working as
waiters that particular summer. After our
shifts, we’d meet up at a local bar or just
hang out at somebody’s apartment until
about 3 in the morning. While there was
plenty of shit-talkin’ going on, there was
also philosophizing about the Souls of
Black Folk.
I don’t believe I ever asked them directly.
But, I know for certain that they had lived
through the MOVE years in West Philly.
(For those of you who may not be
familiar with it, google “MOVE Philly”.)
During one of our epic late night rap
sessions, I asked Netfa, “Why would you
support something that’s diametrically
opposed to what you’re all about?”
I’ll never forget what happened next.
Abayomi started laughing and Netfa
looked at me and said, “I’ve got to write
THAT down!” Because he knew that I
had just articulated for him everything
that he wanted the world to know about
him.
I haven’t seen or talked to Netfa and/or
Abayomi in years. I know that they’d
appreciate it if I wrote about their
hometown, though. I just wish they were
around to help me paint their story. And,
the story of the Philly that they knew
growing up.
Now, that West Philly is beginning to
gentrify more and more. I wonder if the
sensibilities of folks have changed.
Knowing how these same types of
neighborhoods are changing in places
like Harlem and D.C., I doubt it.
MARQUEE won’t wait on it, either.