A Murder Victim’s Mom Speaks Up

I step down gingerly on the front porch.  You see, this is where her only son, 17-year old Christopher LaVell Jones fell down in a hail of bullets.   That was on December 31st, 2010.  It is now 2013.  Brenda Grisham, her daughters and grandchildren and have made no attempt to flee the scene of the bloody tragedy.   The family still live in the small wood frame house tucked on a cul-de-sac in the cold heart of East Oakland. 

It’s summer time.  It’s sunny at noon time today.  The huge jumper on the front yard is filled with neighborhood kids.  Old school soul music sets the atmosphere.  A family friend turns hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill.  Community members slam down dominoes.  Brenda Grisham hosts these events periodically to promote the idea of peace in a neighborhood that can at times resemble the Fallujah at the height of the Iraq war.  

She opens the door for me and points to a fluffy couch in the middle of the living room.  “Have a seat.  Let make sure everything is straight outside and then I’ll be back.” 

My eyes drift around the living room.  They come to a screeching halt at the montage of newspaper clippings above the fireplace mantle.  One headline reads “Teen Slain, Sister Hurt In Oakland Shooting.”  Next to it is the 2010 Oakland Homicide victim photo collection.  It’s a grisly piece of journalism that immortalizes the deceased and marks them in the order that they murdered.  (Community residents often forego referring to their lost loved ones by name.  When speaking of the lost, they quote the year and the person’s number on the list.)  Next to the clippings is the picture of brown skinned young man with dreadlocks.  Adjacent to his high school diploma is a teddy bear with a note:  “R.I.P. Chris Jones.”

By all accounts Christopher Lavell Jones was a good kid.  He was born deaf.  But even without hearing the toddler was drawn to music.  He would feel the tops of musical instruments for the vibrations.  Through the gift of modern science, he was given the ability to hear as a toddler.  He took to the drums.  He developed a love for Gospel music and would use his gifts to accompany the church choir.  One day, the church keyboardist didn’t show up for a recital.  Christopher told his mother that he was able to take on the chore.  She had never heard him play the piano before.  At the end of that event, the church keyboardist was out of a job.  Christopher was given the opportunity on full time basis.  

On December 31st, Christopher LaVell Jones had been tapped to spend New Year’s Eve playing music at a local church.  He would never make it there.  Events would take place that fateful night that would snatch away his young life and change this family’s destiny forever.  

(Next:  A Child Falls In A Hail Of Bullets)