![]() “The look in their eyes? It was like this was the 10th one of these that day,” McKinty recalls, demonstrating that he had a writer’s gift for observation even then – as well as an appreciation for the dark humor of those caught up in the turmoil. McKinty recalls that the officers’ demeanor suggested he and his brother weren’t the first pranksters caught up in the serious conflict. We’ll never do it again,’” he says, and it’s hard not to sympathize, not only with his traumatized sister, but with McKinty and his brother, who were just kids in a brutal and dangerous situation. “In the police station in our pajamas, I remember crying and saying, ‘We’re sorry. Realizing they’d been found out, McKinty and told his brother not to say a word – but that scheme collapsed immediately as his brother pointed and said, “It was him!” ![]() McKinty can still recall the sound of his father’s footsteps pounding up the stairs. ![]() But once she’d had time to think about how this could have happened, she honed in on her two younger brothers who were always bringing home some treasures from the street, and she had an idea how it got there. McKinty’s sister, unable to explain why she’d had a spent rifle cartridge in her pocket, was arrested, he says.
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