Parks are for kids... aren't they?

I used to think that a swing set was a sign of a friendly place for kids... but, apparently, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Awhile back, just as the weather was getting really nice here in Michigan and we were having some balmy spring days, I decided to walk the kids to the park. It's about 6 blocks from our house. I pulled the littles in the wagon and the bigger boys rode their bikes. It wasn't the nicest park, but it was alright. It had a slide and swings and monkey bars; a good spot for boys to run off some energy. There was no one else there, except for a police car parked in the road. I didn't pay much attention, but enjoyed being outdoors while the boys ran and played. When they were hot and thirsty, we headed home.

Later that week, I mentioned that we had walked up to the park.

"What park are you talking about?" the local ladies said.
"Oh, you turn left out of our drive and then a left at the corner and you go straight about five more blocks..." I explained.
"Oh, you can't go there," one lady said and others shook their heads. "People get shot there."
WHAT!?

Now, I believed them and haven't been to that park since. The ladies also explained that the police officer was probably wondering what in the world I was doing there.
Last week, two people were shot in that area - not in the park, but nearby - in two separate and supposedly unrelated incidents. In one case, the shooter was found right away and it is believed that he had a "grudge" against the victim. In the other, the shooter is still at large and his motives are unknown.

This stuff freaks me out. I told my husband that I want to go live on a farm in the U.P. He says that people get shot there too. But, I can understand that kind of shooting. It happens accidentally when someone mistakes you for food. I know how to be safe in that environment - it's called shockingly bright orange clothing. Also, you don't go in the woods during hunting season and never let your children wear those little antlers that Walmart sells at Christmas time. I understand how to be safe in that world.

But, this other kind of shooting - the I just don't like you and think you should die kind - I don't get it. I hope I never get it. I pray that it never makes sense to me. I don't know how to protect myself in that world, and I wouldn't know how to teach my kids to be safe there.

As our vicarage comes to an end and we start to think about filling out paperwork for a call - we talk a lot about where we might want to live.  I don't want to live in a place where I have to wonder if the local parks are for kids or if they belong to a gang or a drug dealer. How do you put that into those questionnaires?