Standing on the corner watching all the girls go by.

Twenty-five year old Peter Whalen was a Brooklyn rum runner with a police record dating back to when he was eleven. When he was fifteen he got busted for stealing pigeons (even back then the bird was the word) before moving up to grand larceny by the time Prohibition rolled around. Eighty-seven years ago today Peter was standing on a corner when a man appeared in a doorway and unleashed a volley of bullets at him. With one of those bullets in his heart Peter ran a block before dropping dead.