There Are No Children Here (45 page)

For the chapters on Jimmie Lee, I interviewed numerous police officers, residents of Henry Horner (all of whom asked for anonymity when talking about the gangs), former gang members, and officials of the Chicago Housing Authority and the Cook County State’s Attorneys’ Office. I also examined extensive court records involving Lee and members of his gang. Some documents dated as far back as 1969. Jimmie Lee, on advice of counsel, declined to be interviewed for the book. At the time of this writing, his attorney was filing a postconviction appeal, claiming ineffective assistance of counsel. The Rivers family provided me with no information on the gangs.

Certain books, articles, and reports gave me historical background on Henry Horner, the neighborhood, and the Chicago Housing Authority. They have been included in the Selective
Bibliography. The Chicago Housing Authority gave me complete access to its historical files.

One final note. As I mentioned in the Preface, over the course of reporting and writing the book I became good friends with Lafeyette, Pharoah, and their family. While the family agreed to cooperate fully with the writing of this book, they did so without the promise of receiving any remuneration. There were times, however, when I helped the family financially, particularly the children, in small ways. For instance, I bought Lafeyette and Pharoah new jeans or sneakers when they needed them and their mother didn’t have the money. There is one exception. When Terence was first arrested, I used $2000 I had received for the Robert F. Kennedy Journalism Award (for
The Wall Street Journal
story on Lafeyette) to bail him out.

With proceeds from the book, I intend to set up a trust fund for Lafeyette, Pharoah, and a couple of their friends. The money will be available to them when they graduate from high school. And, as I mentioned in the Epilogue, I have used money from the book to help send both boys to private school. I know there are people who will say that I became too involved with the family, that I broke my pact as a journalist to remain detached and objective. But, in the end, I had to remind myself that I was dealing with children. For them—and for me—our friendship was foremost. Anything I could do to assist them I did—and will continue to do.

THERE WERE MANY who contributed to this book, but it was the cooperation of LaJoe and her family that made it possible. They opened their hearts and their home to me. Always willing to sit down for interviews, even during the most trying of times, they were unflaggingly frank and candid in their discussions with me. They never questioned what at times must have seemed my constant presence in their home. Their decision to let me, and subsequently all the readers, into their lives was a courageous act, and it was done with the hope that it might make a difference for their children as well as for future generations.

Residents of Henry Horner, too numerous to name, guided me through the neighborhood and its history—and, as did the Riverses, opened their hearts and homes to me. Others also gave generously of their time, including James (Major) Adams of the Henry Horner Boys Club, Audrey Natcone of the Public Defender’s Office, Diane Barone of the Suder school, Patricia Johnson of the YMCA’s West Side Future, and Excie Seifer and Frank Seever of Chicago Commons. Lieutenant William Guswiler and the other officers of the police department’s Thirteenth District tactical unit met with me periodically and offered their perspectives on the neighborhood—as did the officers of the west side’s gang crimes unit.

Vincent Lane, the director of the Chicago Housing Authority, met with me regularly over a one-year period and encouraged his staff to do the same. Particular thanks to Katie Kelly, Gwen Anderson, Lillian Russell, Velma Butler, Chris Maerz, Carol Adams, James Kirby, Doug Guthrie, and Greg Burns, all, currently or formerly, of the CHA.

Two people deserve particular mention, especially since, to my regret, I could not find room for them in the book. Mildred Wortham and Brenda Stephenson, both residents of Rockwell Gardens as well as staff members of West Side Future, were my guides to the west side. These two untiring women brought me to parties and political functions, and lunched with me regularly, recounting stories of the resilience and fragility of the neighborhood’s children, including their own. They were a constant source of inspiration and companionship.

I was blessed with an editor, Nan A. Talese, who was all that an author could hope for: patient, critical, and wise. My agent, David Black, spurred me on to do this book, and though I resisted initially, I’m grateful for his persistence.

Frances Apt’s merciless but sensitive copy editing made it a better read. Kathy Trager of Doubleday and David Sanders of Jenner & Block gave me legal advice,
guiding
me through the filing of numerous Freedom of Information Act requests. Betsy Rice and Dale Eastman researched the history of the Henry Horner Homes, the Chicago Housing Authority, and the public schools. Both spent days and sometimes weeks chasing down obscure reports and studies.
The Chicago Sun-Times
graciously gave me access to their clip library. Kathy Nerat transcribed over fifty hours of taped interviews—and did so with exactness. The photographer Stephen Shames first introduced me to the Rivers family in 1985. The staff of the Erikson Institute shared with me their research on children exposed to violence. And my friends at the Ragdale Foundation gave me a place to stay and the time to write without distraction.

Norman Pearlstine, managing editor of
The Wall Street Journal
, granted me a leave from the paper and has been unflinching in his support of my reporting on the inner city. John Koten, the
Journal
’s Chicago bureau chief, has been a close friend throughout this entire project. His editorial insights helped me sculpt early drafts of the manuscript into a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end.

I am also indebted to Nancy Drew, Kevin Horan, John Houston, and Beverly Donofrio, all of whom provided suggestions and criticisms on various permutations of the manuscript. Nancy, in particular, helped fine-tune my prose. My appreciation also to John Conroy, Andrew Patner, Frank James, David
Halberstam, Sue Shellenbarger, Robert Johnson, Michael Yales, Jonathan Kaufman, Mary Decker, Jimmy Adler, and my brother Dan Kotlowitz.

Barbara Nell Hunt, a woman of unusually strong conviction, helped me in more ways than she may be aware. Her gentleness and generosity of spirit gave me comfort along the sometimes rugged journey of writing this book.

Finally, there are Horner’s children. Adlous Huxley once wrote that “children are remarkable for their intelligence and ardour, for their curiosity, their intolerance of shams, the clarity and ruthlessness of their vision.” So it was with Lafeyette, Pharoah, James, Rickey, and the other children of the neighborhood. Their resilience, resourcefulness, and vision have been an inspiration to me. Their friendship has enriched my life. This book is for them.

I RELIED ON ARTICLES, some dating back over thirty years, from
The Chicago Tribune, The Chicago Sun-Times, The Chicago Defender, The Chicago Reporter, The Chicago Reader
, the former
Chicago Daily News
, and various local and national news magazines, including
Chicago Times, Chicago
magazine,
Newsweek, Time, The New Republic, Look
, and
The New Yorker
. What follows is a list of the books and reports that I found particularly useful.

ALEX KOTLOWITZ writes about urban affairs and social issues for
The Wall Street Journal
. Before joining the
Journal
in 1984, he worked as a freelance journalist, contributing to “The MacNeil-Lehrer Newshour,” National Public Radio, and numerous magazines. His articles upon which this book is based won the Robert F. Kennedy Journalism Award. He has also received the George Polk Award.

Mr. Kotlowitz attended Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut. He currently lives in Chicago.