I spent Sunday driving around town, visiting many of the sites of death.
At some locations, it was clear that a murder—or more than one—had taken place because they were marked with impromptu shrines. These were no easier to stomach than those that were devoid of signs of remembrance. Balloons, liquor bottles, and stuffed animals were the primary memorials; some scenes were littered with photos and cards addressed to the deceased.
Fans of HBO's The Wire might get a sick thrill out of the idea of this city experiencing a crime spree. But after the death of Freddie Gray in police custody, it's less exciting than sobering to stare at stuffed animals in front of the home where a mother and her seven-year old child were murdered.
Here's what I saw.