In the two and a half decades of covering prayer vigils for Aurora’s murder victims, I’ve been to some of these memorials in conditions so frigid the ink wouldn’t work in my pen and in some so hot it was the sweat dripping from my body that compromised the notes I was taking.
But Monday was the first time I ever attended vigils in the heat of summer for victims killed in the dead of winter.
More than six months have passed since 18-year-old Daniel Alvarez-Perez and 17-year-old Nicholas Rodriguez were shot and killed in crimes that occurred almost three weeks apart. And in the half-year that’s passed I was beginning to wonder if this community had closed the book on a tradition that had come to help define a city once ensnared in gang violence.
Aurora’s homicide rate has gone down dramatically in the years since those spiritual calls for healing and unity were started by the Prayer Coalition for Reconciliation. So it was only natural to wonder whether, because our streets were no longer as dangerous, perhaps that sense of urgency and frustration had declined along with the murder stats.
Perhaps those prayer vigils, held religiously in rain, sleet, snow or brutal sunshine, had outlived their usefulness.
Not so, insist leaders of the Prayer Coalition who, on Monday, finally held back-to-back vigils for the two teenagers who lost their lives during the winter. Perhaps more telling, these murders occurred right before a mass shooting that sucked the air out of the city, and in doing so, pushed the names of these two teens to the back of our collective consciousness.
But that unfortunate timing was no excuse, the Rev. Dan Haas assured family and friends of Nicholas Rodriguez, who gathered at 6 p.m. in the 300 block of Spencer Street, where the East Aurora teen was gunned down as he was returning to his home on George Street just days before the mass shooting at the Henry Pratt Co. Feb. 15 where a disgruntled employee walked into his place of work and killed five colleagues and wounded five responding police officers.
“Every life is of value and worth, made in the image of God,” Haas insisted, as Nick’s mother, her body heavily tattooed with the name of her only son, bowed her head in prayer with about two dozen others whose lives had been touched by a young man known for his large personality.
“Nick was a great, funny kid who pushed boundaries and lived life out loud,” said his fourth-grade teacher who asked not to be identified. “But we respected one another and he was just a great soul.”
Nick’s vigil was in stark contrast to Daniel’s, which was held an hour earlier on the corner of Claim and Beach streets, where he had been shot around 9:50 p.m. Jan. 23 while riding in a car with three other teens. The only attendees who joined Haas and the Rev. Randy Schoof as the two Aurora pastors prayed for the victim, his family and the neighborhood in which he died, were a few members of the media.
It’s not the first time so few people were present, noted Haas, recalling another vigil in horrendous weather where it was only Prayer Coalition co-founder the Rev. David Engbarth and him standing together in 30-below weather with the wind whipping around them.
These spiritual memorials were formed as a way of recommitting the ground such horrible crimes were committed upon, and to let grieving families, as well as the neighbors who often felt hostage to the violence, that Aurora was standing with them.
And back in those days when shootings were so rampant, it was also the faith-based community’s way of showing gangs they were not afraid to go into those rough areas and confront the evil head on.
As a newspaper It became important for us to cover these vigils, despite occasional push-back by city officials who saw the media coverage as playing into Aurora’s negative reputation. And while we may have missed one or two over the years because of miscommunication, we tried to cover every one of the more than 415 vigils that have been held since the Prayer Coalition was formed back in 1994.
I’m glad to know they will continue, if for no other reason than to let families know we do recognize every life has value, and that for unsolved cases like Daniel’s and Nick’s, to remind the public there are people out there who know what happened and we need them to speak out.
Nick’s mom knows that, as well.
As the vigil progressed, I noticed every time a car would drive past, Mitchell would turn and scrutinize the driver and passing vehicle, fully aware – as she confirmed later – killers often like to return to the scenes of their crimes.
She knows the person or persons responsible for her son’s death is out there somewhere. And, still deep in a mother’s grief, she is angry and bitter.
But despite the fact it took six months for this memorial, she is also grateful to the Prayer Coalition.
“I’m very sorry it took so long,” said Haas, apologizing again for the lateness of the vigil.
“That’s OK,” Mitchell quickly responded. “I’m just glad we are doing it today.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com
