I watched Ricky die on a street corner in the Oakland section of Pittsburgh this past Friday… I watched Ricky die on a street corner in the Oakland section of Pittsburgh this past Friday afternoon. His death, undignified but quintessentially American, came from a single nine-millimeter bullet fired from a police pistol at close range.

I did not witness the shooting itself. I heard the single gunshot-an all too familiar sound in Pittsburgh-at a distance of about 50 feet while bicycling on the uphill slope of Bates Street leading up to Atwood Street.

Ricky is an affectionate nickname, a sobriquet. The officials at the morgue or attendants at Western Psychiatric Hospital or the people from human services know him by his given name: Nang Nguyen.

Nang’s personal history is an American tragedy. Nevertheless, someone should tell his story, if not to expose the violent side of our culture. He said he wanted to commit suicide. His shooter may have unwittingly obliged Nang by exercising his prerogative and has his own conscience to answer. If he did wrong, only the wrath of God can punish him.

As a society, history may judge us by how we treat the lesser among us. May God help the city of Pittsburgh if this is true.

-Emil Lester Pittsburgh, Pa.