By Elizabeth Skow
Deep in Bayview among the empty warehouses and boarded up storefronts, past the scratched, dull plexi-glass skeleton of the abandoned guard booth, and the old police station—long empty now, its faded emblem peeling off the grey stucco, past the broken bicycles glinting in the bright sunshine and the old couch with its innards spewing out, and the green and yellow two-story buildings—some with their windows boarded up—Jackie Williams sits in her garden. She smokes long cigare...