We have had similar problems in our neighborhood. Gunshots in the night, not just one or two, but like Viet Nam. I pray,"Dear God, don't let them shoot my air conditioner." You never know what is going on. The police helicopter, called the "Barrio Bird" flies over so low I think it will take out my trees.
Two girls from down the street stabbed another girl. She died. Now it looks like there is some sort of feud going on.
The neighbors were having a yard sale, and a car pulled up and shot it up. Someone went out and picked up the shell casings. My sons called the cops, but they couldn't do anything. Best advice was to park cars in front of the house so that they couldn't get good fire to the structure.
The house across the street and down was a house of ill repute for two years. One morning we heard a horrendous bang. The cops threw a flash bang grenade through through the window, The cops spent about four hours taking documents and other stuff from the place. All that time, two working girls were hiding in the trash bin in the alley.
The cholos don't mess with us because they know my kids will have the cops on them.
Along with the hard working and industrious come the criminals.
Two years ago last Christmas, I and my oldest son went to look at a forty acre piece of real estate. The place was for sale, but the seller wanted $60,000 cash money for it. Not a check, but cash money.
When we found the property, it was half way to California. We looked around and found black sand, which is a good sign for gold. Then I picked up a bone and realized it was human. My son promptly reminded me of that "Native America Graves Act." I dropped it like a hot rock.
The property was littered with brass shell casings. It looked like there had been a war there. We got into the car to leave, and my son spotted a leg bone. The bone I found was old and sun bleached. The leg bone still had traces of flesh. The coyotes had gnawed it, but it was easy to see it was fresh.
My son took a picture of it with his cell phone which also marked the GPS. He called the Sheriff's office, and they went out there and looked the place over. They found the bones of God only knows how many people.
I sure didn't want to buy a property where the cartels dump bodies or take people to kill them. Besides, I would have to fence the property and put down a well, and in Arizona that can be an iffy and expensive thing. I let that deal go.