Isaac Schorr My brush with death in DC The city has been a model of corrupt, complacent governance – a national embarrassment

https://thespectator.com/topic/brush-death-washington-dc-crime/

The last thing I heard before my ears started ringing was my left turn signal clicking.

I was stopped at a red light on a Saturday afternoon, waiting to glide into my parking lot near the Waterfront Metro stop in Washington, DC when a loud crack suddenly deafened me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bullet-sized wound in my windshield. 

It wasn’t a windy day, and no cars had been passing by to kick a loose stone up at my beloved Camry, so it only took me only a half-second to realize what had happened. When the fight or flight kicked in, I briefly (and foolishly) fled the vehicle before diving back in to take a left on red. 

The two Metropolitan Police Department officers my 911 call summoned didn’t show up until a half-hour later, even though the nearest station was only a two-minute walk away. Gesturing toward my broken windshield, I asked them for confirmation of what I already knew had happened. Yes, my car had probably been shot with me in it, they agreed before informing me that all they could do was record the incident. 

If I wanted, they said, I could ask nearby apartment buildings and businesses for security footage and report back to them. And then they were off; my ears were still ringing.

That was only the most notable of my many experiences with the post-Covid crime wave that made DC such an unsettling place to live during my two years in the district. There was also the time a man on a motorcycle swerved onto the sidewalk to stare me down as my fiancée hid behind me; the time her cousin was mugged; and the time my friend from college was killed in a hit-and-run.