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Itwas 1989 and I was eight years old when I arrived at the colossal red-brick building in Brooklyn where Mama, Daddy, and I lived. After hustling through a cracked cement courtyard and passing a thick metal door, I ran through the marbled lobby, bounded up the stairwell two steps at a time, and landed in front of apartment 2H. I pushed the key that swung from a snaked lanyard around my neck into the lock. I entered our apartment, rubbed Twilight’s tabby spine, and turned on the TV. After a few clicks at the remote, the cable box switched stations. Yo! MTV Raps was on. [READ MORE]