Our Seattle house was situated above these steps; the people in the picture are my old neighbors:
Gee, I loved that house. Especially coming from a neighborhood in Portland where, when we moved in, it was normal to see corpses on the corner. Or have a high speed chase end in your yard. Or spend major holidays sitting in the stairwell, waiting for the celebratory gun volleys to halt.
Everything is relative; I thought we got off lightly in Seattle when we were robbed – and the thief only took a birthday cake and a bottle of wine.