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ExtremeRavens: The Sanctuary

Marvin Harrison: Punk


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Some stories you might not have heard about the supposedly innocent Marvin Harrison. ;) By these accounts, he sounds like a pretty bad guy.


As dusk falls in North Philly, armies of hoodies appear on West Thompson Street, their faces framed by shadows. This part of town hasn't been remade by real estate speculators. Vacant lots are strewn with crumbling bricks. A speakeasy runs out of a basement, with dollar drinks and hookers. Sidewalk dice games go on all night.


Dwight Dixon, a 5'11", 280-pound ex-convict with a big mouth, is a magnet for the kind of trouble that keeps so many buildings boarded up around here. On April 29, 2008, he was standing outside a take-out joint on the corner of West Thompson and North 25th streets when it found him again. Two weeks earlier, at a local bar called Playmakers, he'd gotten into a beef with a man he'd known since childhood. Now here that man was, right beside Dixon, wanting to collect an apology. Within seconds, the two were jawing, then trading kicks and punches. "I was getting my ass kicked," Dixon says.


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