By Kimberley King

Christmas at our house was always grand. We would have a big, sparkling tree. Let’s not forget the smells of chicken and dressing, mac and cheese, greens, sweet potato pie and casserole, pound cake and all the fixings. We’d have a big family dinner together. Kids would play with their new toys and grown folks would drink spirits and have adult conversations. 

When my son Kevin was about two years old, I bought him a blue motorcycle for Christmas. 

Next thing I knew, Kevin’s shiny new motorcycle was in pieces on the basement floor. I was livid. How could he take apart this toy I had worked so hard to purchase for him? 

But Kevin could look at me with his piercing eyes. It would always make me melt. What I didn’t know at the time was that Kevin had a special gift. He knew how to put that motorcycle back together – every piece in place. 

Who would have thought? Realizing Kevin was special at such a young age inspired me to always give him positive affirmations. As he got older, he had a thirst for learning and, in my eyes, he could just do anything. 

When Kevin was in the 8th grade he took all of the standard tests for high school. Kevin passed all but one part and received a special award for this accomplishment.  He passed the final test in his first semester of 9th grade. Kevin was also a genius when it came to computers – he could operate them and fix them. He knew how to do it all. 

Kevin would try anything and if he had trouble, he would read books and eventually master it. People would come to Kevin for help with anything from fixing cars to putting things together. Nothing was too complicated. Kevin also knew the value of things from the worth of cars to the many other things he collected. He was also a natural salesman.

On Dec. 22, 2019 Kevin was following tradition and decorating his Christmas tree for his four children. Earlier in the day, Kevin had come to my rescue, helping me move items from my old apartment to a new one. Every time I saw my son he would tell me he loved me. He told me he loved me on this day, too. 

After helping me, Kevin picked up my youngest son Nahshon, who was 18, to help decorate the tree. The two of them were close, and I was in a good mood from spending time with my sons. 

An hour after leaving them, I got a phone call from Nahshon. It was like a bomb dropped on my heart.

He told me Kevin was dead.

He was hysterical. I did not think I heard him correctly.

What did you say, I asked him?

He was distraught. He repeated that his brother was dead. I begged him to call 911 right away. I was screaming. I don’t know how I made the 15 minute drive to my son’s house. When I arrived, I saw an ambulance taking him away. So I got back in my car and headed to University Hospital. When I arrived, I was ushered into a waiting room. The doctors were working on my son, I was told. It seemed like forever that we waited. Then, they ushered us into a private room. Kevin didn’t make it, they said.

It was the worst day of my life.

My son was just 39. He meant the world to me. Having your child shot nine times in the doorway of their home and murdered is unimaginable. 

Later, I learned my son was murdered because some girls had set him up to be robbed. One of his friends was shot in the leg, my younger son and Kevin’s father all survived the shooting.

Since Kevin was murdered, I’ve gotten many reminders of his kind heart and his generous spirit. 

Days after Kevin died I came across a gentleman in the Save-A-Lot parking lot asking shoppers for money. I don’t give money to the homeless but  this was different, I told the man I had just lost my son and he said he had just lost his friend “Royal,” a nickname Kevin was called later in life. (His childhood nickname was Coodie).

After Kevin’s death, I heard from one of his friends, called “Hump.” When he had nowhere to go, Kevin let him pitch a tent and sleep in his yard. Hump and I still stay in touch until this day.

I am reminded often that Kevin was an exceptional chef and loved to cook for people, who would come from near and far to get a taste of Kevin’s taco bake or Mexican cornbread.

Kevin left behind four cherished children, He adored his two boys and two girls. They are having a hard time.

Kyler, who was 7 when her dad was killed, found a video on the internet where a little girl gives her dad updates on her life even all the way to adulthood. I watched it and just cried.

Little Kevin, who is now 11, called me the other day and said he would just like to hug his dad one more time.They cry all the time and when they cry, they make everyone sad, too. My youngest son almost never leaves the house. He is in fear of his life.

Police eventually arrested the two women who set my son up and the person who shot him. Two more men still are on the loose. At the trial the women received 14 to 18 years in prison and the shooter received 30 years. The shooter could have had his sentence shortened by 10 years if he had told of the other accomplice.

Christmas: The aftermath 

Christmas will never be the same for me again. I don’t have the spirit. I have not put up a tree. It’s just not the same.  I try to stand in for my son by making Christmas a magical time for his children, like it was for him. I spoil them by buying the things their mother can’t. But it’s hard.