I worked as an ER orderly for a while. Evening shift on weekends. It was a town with a fair amount of gang violence, so I’d see my old high-school fellow students and my neighbors coming in with stab and gunshot wounds. If they were conscious, we’d chat: “How’s your sister, Phuta?” “Good, Manny. Is your brother out of Chino yet?” “Nah, he got extra time for a fight.” “Sounds like him.”

But it was the car accidents and industrial accidents that were the most gruesome.