8 The Solari Report / 2018 Annual Wrap Up / Part Two I saw a great deal destroyed in West Philadelphia. Speculative homebuilder deals that converted quickly to boarded-up foreclosures were one of the classic Housing and Urban Development (HUD) frauds. It was so prevalent through successive housing bubbles throughout my career that it was later immortalized by the TV show, The Sopranos. In West Philadelphia in the 1950s and 1960s, however, HUD frauds were not our worst problem. Narcotics trafficking and the increased enforcement and covert violence that came with it steadi- ly eroded our community. The lies that flowed glibly through our new television sets eroded our culture. We stopped talking to each other on our stoops and stayed inside to watch the screens that artfully persuaded us to borrow and buy more and trust each other less. Taking on greater mortgage debt, some of our neighbors escaped to bigger homes in the suburbs. People spent a great deal of time and money on the hope that they could “get away” to a place that was safe. Philadelphia was where I learned to live with the absence of safety and with violence. I tell one of those stories in the 3rd Quarter 2017 Wrap Up: Control 101. When I was in high school, a series of stabbings occurred near the University of Pennsylvania, emanating towards our area. There was an unusual—and profes- sional—feeling to them. So one day, I took out the newspaper reports and a map to trace the progression. There was indeed a pattern. Each murder was one block south and two blocks west of the previous murder. Each murder occurred after the same regular amount of time. If the pattern continued, the next murder would occur the coming week on the corner where I lived. Several nights later, my parents were giving a dinner party. I went to visit a friend, and then headed home when the party was expected to wind down. I drove home and parked around the corner. As I parked the car, I saw two men sitting inside the car in front of mine with the motor on and their lights off. I got out of my car, and so did they. I did not see anything else as I ran at Olympic record speed to my house, up the stairs, and up to the front door. The only thing I heard was the sound of footsteps running behind me. As luck would have it, my father was opening the door for guests returning home. I threw out my arms, gathering all of them with me, as I went flying into the hallway. Presented with a large party of surprised witnesses, the two men took off in a dash. It was one of many times that my appreciation for the thin veil that lies between us and the physical force used to control us may have saved my life. Growing up in a rough neighborhood has had clear advantages. Ten years later, my mother’s body was found on the roof of our home in February, 1976. I knew my father agreed with me that it was an assassination when he insisted on receiving the insurance. It was too late to protect his wife, but he was not going to allow his family to be cheated out of the insurance monies. It fell to me to arrive on the scene and take charge of the family and funer- al arrangements. I believed that if I handled matters discreetly, I could protect my father from a similar fate. However, he died four years later under suspicious circumstances. The lies surround- ing their deaths became part of the accumulated lies that eventually destroyed what remained of our family. In the meantime, the machinery that harvests people and neighborhoods with a lethal combination of drugs, media, mortgage fraud, and enforcement kept getting more powerful. I wanted to know why. The Sopranos – https://www.youtube.com/ embed/GfcgwxPH7Rc