March 9, 1997 was a gutshot to the world of hip-hop. Less than six months removed from the slaying of our patron saint, Tupac Shakur, and still trying to extract some kind of lesson from that tragedy, we were leveled by the senseless murder of our Big Poppa. Christopher “Notorious B.I.G.” Wallace was gunned down by an unknown assailant in Los Angeles, amid rumors and reckless speculation that he had been behind Tupac’s homicide. The realization that Big—a good guy who “went from negative to positive,” and from “ashy to classy”—had been killed paralyzed us with shock and grief.

The clouds of anger and resentment that had lingered in the air after Pac’s death, and that had hindered our ability to see the foolishness of resolving petty beefs with violent acts, quickly lifted following Biggie’s shooting. Fourteen years later, we continue to mourn both men and search for answers. Police have made no arrests in connection with either case, and hardly seem interested in changing that. The media has moved onto other individuals in the entertainment world to overexpose and under-appreciate. Hip-hop’s fans have grown fractured and disillusioned; for the younger members of the community, too far removed from the East Coast vs. West Coast “feud” that erased our sense of invincibility, Pac and Biggie are more historical figures than lost idols. They know each artist’s music and story, but they simply can’t grasp the magnitude of the impact that their deaths had on older fans like me, who remember exactly where we were when the news broke the morning of March 9th.
R.I.P. Biggie. And R.I.P. Tupac. We miss you now, and will continue to until the day we join you.
No comments:
Post a Comment