HBO unedited stories in the inner community,have always used the gritty,unmoving,uncomfortable situations that we hide from in our own personal lives. We can live in a glass house, and judge without seeing the other side of “The Game.”
THE CORNER, was the first authentic, and depressing series that dealt with the streets of Baltimore.DeAndre McCollough was a recurring character on “The Wire.”
David Simon(THE WIRE) also is the brain, and vision that dealt with this controversial series. Charles Dutton, was the narrator, and collaborated on a personal level with this series. Sadly the McCollough family was doomed, with the demon of drug addiction. Without giving a spoiler alert, Deandre was a product of an environment where he had no parental guidance, both parents on drugs, and living and breathing every negative stereotype of the poverty-stricken families in America.His family sold drugs, made of life of stealing and government assistance was their safety net. Deandre’s beliefs and moral framework were shaky from the start.I wondered what happened after THE CORNER?
Sadly,Deandre was found dead at his home at the age of 35 years old. He lived the same life as his parents, but repeatedly tried to get clean. He overdosed on Heroin,last year. 20 years later after the show that told the story of his family and arrest.Maybe, will his family find that peace he could not find in life?
I contemplate what could have happened to me if I lived and associated with the people who were struggling with the same issues. Sadly, most of them think I am “too good” to be around them.I love them, but you have to love some people from a distance. I am guessing since Deandre never left, he was a “crab in a barrel.”Everytime he attempted to change, he couldn’t leave his misfortune or his hood behind.Now,his the story has a tragic and untimely end.
David Simon-Death Annoucement
To remember him as we met him, twenty years ago, is to know everything that was lost, everything that never happened to a boy who could surprise you with his charm and wit and heart.
At fifteen, he was selling drugs on the corners of Fayette Street, but that doesn’t begin to explain who he was. For the boys of Franklin Square — too many of them at any rate — slinging was little more than an adolescent adventure, an inevitable rite of passage. And whatever sinister vision you might conjure of a street corner drug trafficker, try to remember that a fifteen-year-old slinger is, well, fifteen years old.
He was funny. He could step back from himself and mock his own stances — “hard work,” he would say when I would catch him on a drug corner, “hard work being a black man in America.” And then he would catch my eye and laugh knowingly at his presumption. His imitations of white-authority voices — social workers, police officers, juvenile masters, teachers, reporters — were never less than pinpoint, playful savagery. The price of being a white man on Fayette Street and getting to know DeAndre McCullough was to have your from-the-other-America pontifications pulled and scalpeled apart by a manchild with an uncanny ear for hypocrisy and cant.
He could be generous, and loyal. I remember him rushing out before Christmas to spend his corner money on gifts for his brother, nieces and nephews — knowing that his mother wasn’t going to get it done that year. I remember the moments of quiet affection he demonstrated when his mother was at her lowest ebb, telling her gently that she was better than this, that she could rise again. And, too, I remember his stoic, certain forgiveness of his father, who moved wraith-like around those same corners, lost in an addiction he could never defeat.
“I really feel like he’s at peace now,” DeAndre said after Gary’s funeral, explaining that his father was too gentle for the corners, too delicate a soul to be out there along Fayette Street. His father was never going to be what he was. Not ever again…What are we to learn from his life? Do you know a Deandre that needs your help? Now is the time***messymandella***