Post by Stardrifter on Aug 14, 2011 21:27:11 GMT -5
*Editors Note: This article takes place between issues #4 and #5*
First I want to say thank you all for the kind words and congratulations about the new job. I've been in Metropolis for a week now and I must say it's been the most exciting week of my life. Not only do I move to a new city and get my dream job, but then Superman debuts to the world and has a knock down, drag out fight with giant robots down the street from the Daily Planet. And no, CheezyFries78, I am not Superman. Chock this one up to coincidence. Though seeing what he can do and all the warm welcomes he's receiving, I wouldn't mind if I was.
So my first story in Metropolis had me spending some time down in Southside. It has a more common name amongst the citizens of Metropolis; Suicide Slum. Walking the streets down there, it's obvious why. Even in such a prosperous city, poverty exists. Crime, drugs, prostitution, all human vices that we've yet to overcome. It's almost like a whole other world down there. Sometimes it's enough to break even the most positive of spirits.
While interviewing witnesses I came across a local bar by the name "Ace o' Clubs." I must admit I went in with certain preconceived notions. I'm not proud of that. To my surprise, the establishment was inviting and clean. The people were friendly for the most part, barring the inevitable angry drunk. In a section of the city so down on it's luck, I couldn't believe the stark difference inside the Ace o' Clubs. That is until I met the owner, Bo Bibbowski.
At face value, Bo, or Bibbo as he's known, appears to be the kind of person you'd expect running a bar in Suicide Slum. Mid-fourties, grizzled, tough as nails attitude. Despite the extra weight of age, he still has the imposing form he earned from years of professional boxing. However as we talked I began to really see how appearances can be deceiving.
Bibbo had a promising career in the 90s. He was an up and coming rookie that all the agents were keeping a close eye on. Sports Illustrated even did an article on him. Sadly it wasn't meant to be. On December 12th, 1994, a freak car accident ended his race for the title. His right leg was broken in three places. Reconstructive surgery to his knee helped, but even now you can see the slight limp when he walks. After a hefty settlement, Bibbo was left with a small fortune and broken dreams.
All this time no one has really thought much about him. Except for here in Suicide Slum. Rather than wallowing in self pity, Bibbo returned to the neighborhood he grew up in and has worked tirelessly to make it a better place. The Ace o' Clubs, a welcoming place for people to come and forget their cares for a while, is just scratching the surface. Bibbo has regular charity drives for the homeless, school children, and sick in Suicide Slum. He's donated vast sums of money to the local school and shelters. He's even set up his own neighborhood watch just three months ago, which so far has begun to make a slow but noticeable difference.
"I'm not a hero," Bibbo told me. "I'm not like that Superman. I'm just one guy. I do what I can." To this reporter, that looks like a whole lot. Imagine if we all did what we can.
-Clark Kent
First I want to say thank you all for the kind words and congratulations about the new job. I've been in Metropolis for a week now and I must say it's been the most exciting week of my life. Not only do I move to a new city and get my dream job, but then Superman debuts to the world and has a knock down, drag out fight with giant robots down the street from the Daily Planet. And no, CheezyFries78, I am not Superman. Chock this one up to coincidence. Though seeing what he can do and all the warm welcomes he's receiving, I wouldn't mind if I was.
So my first story in Metropolis had me spending some time down in Southside. It has a more common name amongst the citizens of Metropolis; Suicide Slum. Walking the streets down there, it's obvious why. Even in such a prosperous city, poverty exists. Crime, drugs, prostitution, all human vices that we've yet to overcome. It's almost like a whole other world down there. Sometimes it's enough to break even the most positive of spirits.
While interviewing witnesses I came across a local bar by the name "Ace o' Clubs." I must admit I went in with certain preconceived notions. I'm not proud of that. To my surprise, the establishment was inviting and clean. The people were friendly for the most part, barring the inevitable angry drunk. In a section of the city so down on it's luck, I couldn't believe the stark difference inside the Ace o' Clubs. That is until I met the owner, Bo Bibbowski.
At face value, Bo, or Bibbo as he's known, appears to be the kind of person you'd expect running a bar in Suicide Slum. Mid-fourties, grizzled, tough as nails attitude. Despite the extra weight of age, he still has the imposing form he earned from years of professional boxing. However as we talked I began to really see how appearances can be deceiving.
Bibbo had a promising career in the 90s. He was an up and coming rookie that all the agents were keeping a close eye on. Sports Illustrated even did an article on him. Sadly it wasn't meant to be. On December 12th, 1994, a freak car accident ended his race for the title. His right leg was broken in three places. Reconstructive surgery to his knee helped, but even now you can see the slight limp when he walks. After a hefty settlement, Bibbo was left with a small fortune and broken dreams.
All this time no one has really thought much about him. Except for here in Suicide Slum. Rather than wallowing in self pity, Bibbo returned to the neighborhood he grew up in and has worked tirelessly to make it a better place. The Ace o' Clubs, a welcoming place for people to come and forget their cares for a while, is just scratching the surface. Bibbo has regular charity drives for the homeless, school children, and sick in Suicide Slum. He's donated vast sums of money to the local school and shelters. He's even set up his own neighborhood watch just three months ago, which so far has begun to make a slow but noticeable difference.
"I'm not a hero," Bibbo told me. "I'm not like that Superman. I'm just one guy. I do what I can." To this reporter, that looks like a whole lot. Imagine if we all did what we can.
-Clark Kent