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I can't even remember when I met Justin. It must have been way back, as he was barely a teenager then, a gentle boy with a sly smile, boundless curiosity and the quiet, cautious manner of a young man without affiliation in a city ruled by gangs and sub-gangs.
He was so wary of being identified with any group that, when asked the question that started nearly every conversation among young people in New Orleans--"What ward are you from?"--he'd lie and say he was from out of town. He just didn't want to mix it up in the turf wars.
His specialty was a different kind of turf. He was a garden hand. Starting with just a weed-whacker, he prowled the neighborhood, knocking on doors and always looking for new clients. Soon, he'd saved enough for a power mower, new line trimmers, and was running a crew of younger guys, always pushing.
And always learning. Our "lawn," such as it is, doesn't really have grass to cut so much as it has strange plants to cut around. GF is one of those native species/bird and butterfly sanctuary gardeners. Rather than blow us off in search of easier lawns, Justin loved coming here, always asking the names and purposes of each new plant, delighted with the idea of a yard that did more than just sit there, looking flat and green.
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http://www.dailykos.com/story/2009/12/23/817939/-All-I-Want-for-Christmas