I was just about to reply after watching the youtube video and see that Marble added much of what I was going to say. I want to thank Zanz (would that be Zan?) for posting.

When I first started going to Ja in the mid seventies, Negril was a peaceful fishing village. The streets were not paved, there was one phone, electricity was scarce, ice came on a truck, and restaurant food was nearly unheard of. I never lived in Negril for more than a few weeks at a time altho I came several times a year and after my first few visits began staying with a family- a family I eventually married into. Even tho violence was peaking in Kingston, Negril was still peaceful and laid back. In Negril, ganja and mushrooms were the drugs of the day. But then, suddenly coke was all over the island overnight. Young men who I came to know in their teens and early twenties, those that used to have fun just dancing on the beach to a sound system against the moonlight were walking up a drugged out coke haze. I watched them lose weight, face get tough, become liars, and demonstrate aggressive behavior I had never seen before. Believe it or not, there was a time when you never locked you house or room in Negril and could even leave your money purse on a towel on the beach while swimming or walking down for a mile or so. I never worried about theft or safety. That changed in a blink of an eye.

Up on west end was a place called Addis Kokeb, owned by my friend, Gxxx. Many of the artists would leave Town and come down to Negril to jam and relax. They would arrive on their motorbikes all hours of the day and night. Some had houses where they stayed regularly (Bob Marley for one), some stayed at Addis Kokeb, (Jimmy Cliff for one but many others). I am hoping Gxxx will one day write a book about the artists life up on west end during that time. She was well connected to the whole scene and sold her property many years later and moved to Miami. What I came to understand was Negril was a good place to relax and concentrate on music instead of dodging violence.

What they show on this video is what is happening today and demonstrates a sliver of what it was like to be on the streets in Trenchtown at that time- a small reflection of the political wars that took place on the streets every day and night in the seventies. I only ventured to that part of the island a few times during the seventies, (a friend who is now a well known photographer was my main contact) as I was afraid to get caught in the cross fire. Also, I purposely remained a silent observer as I came to Jamaica for the beauty of sun, water and nature. I did not get involved with the men at that time (perhaps the best decision I ever made) and chose to watch the runnings without being part of the runnings. Although, I only spent short time in Kingston, the man who eventually became my husband had just spent 12 years living in St. Catherine before coming back to Negril. He knew quite a few of the artists and came to know Kingston runnings quite well. Years later, we went to Trenchtown a few times but never ventured outside at night and slept in a bed with three other people including his mother! You could lay in bed and hear the gunfire at night even in those later years.

You could easily sense the movement or change into Negril as the cokeheads started wandering the beach at night and crime that was once kept at bay through local vigilantism (saw locals take paddles and beat thieves who wondered in from outside the community) was suddenly getting out of control. I know a man who still lives in Negril who was hired by Seaga to sell and distribute coke across the island. He was one of a few that got out without being murdered by the politician's same gunmen. He was supposed to be a witness at my wedding in 1990, however, was still afraid to be too out in the public at that time.

What is happening in Trenchtown now reminds me of what happens in US prisons. You either join a prison gang for protection or you die. Once you join, you no longer make your own decisions. The prison don for that gang is in charge.

I am thankful for this video. It really gives me a clear idea of what Trenchtown is like today. Perhaps it will give greater insight into a prevalent way of life in parts of Jamaica and why things that happen around some areas of Kingston (or just outside) and why some public figures can not be judged completely through the lens of American culture. That is not to condone violence but hoping the complexities of trying to survive amongs a den of wolves is not as easy as it might seem.