On this Good Friday morning, 126th Street just off Normandie is fairly quiet.
Trash bins line the curb, and the occasional dog can be heard barking. The only action for the time being is some savory-smelling barbecue smoke wafting onto the street from a nearby backyard.
But just before 11 o’clock, one house comes to life. The garage door of 1418 W 126th Street opens, and a woman places two chairs—one white folding and one that you might find at a dining room table—on the brick porch. A worn egg crate is set on its side, and a boom box is placed on top of it. A blue Cranbrook cruiser bike is laid on the steps leading up to the porch.