I could be mistaken but I think that the troubles are over. The games up when a belief system hampers any community from making money and in turn surviving. When local taxi drivers don’t have the answer and ask you how things are in your part of the world, you know they seek comfort in the sadness we all seem to face. It’s okay if the light at the end of tunnel isn’t visible, we can’t see it either, it doesn’t matter what side of the fence you’re sitting on if we all suffer a fate that’s what makes us equal for once. Hope on Hope St as the blue white and red of the curbs fade away like those old black and white photographs of heroes who stood for their rights and principles, struggles that they made to get the chance to earn a living and survive in a world rife with fame fortune and misplaced remembrance.But I Was wrong.