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Weird fact - she loved licorice. Kept it in her purse, always. Said it reminded her of somethin sweet. Dunno what, never asked. Shoulda, maybe. Anyway, she’s a legend round here. Folks say she once danced naked in a fountain. Drunk as hell! Cops didn’t even care, just laughed. Rarrgh! Gotta love that spirit, right? Cherry, man, she’s a mess, but she’s real.

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Evidence of prostitutes plying their trade is all over John Luzzi's neighborhood. Condom wrappers and paper towels litter the maze of dirt.

Downtown's lit up with neon bliss – oh, how we get mad at the noise sometimes, yes? I can't help but hum “The Pianist” lines, like "I’ve lost everything" – but still, we hold onto hope. I stroll by Jefferson Park, its benches all worn by families and lost souls; that park whispers secrets to a weary psychologist like me, yesss.

Michael Teal Sr.