A trial could expose futility of life in gangsta household
By Peter Gelzinis Wednesday, April 2, 2008 http://www.bostonherald.com/ Columnists
Photo by Herald file
This morning, Lakeisha Gadson will officially be charged with six counts of contributing to the death of her 8-year-old son, Liquarry Jefferson.
On Friday, Gadson’s oldest son, Jayquan McConnico, 16, will follow Mom into the arraignment dock where he will face similar charges for his role in last June’s shooting death of baby brother Liquarry.
As twisted as the tale may seem now, it’s only the tip of the iceberg. If and when a jury is seated in a year or so, the public will be given a rare and harrowing glimpse into the pathology of what can only be described as a “gang family.”
We’re familiar with the sociology of gangs as replacement for family, as substitutes in the lives of inner-city kids abandoned to the care of, say, an over-burdened grandmother. This story is different. Liquarry Jefferson perished in the care of his mother, aunt, siblings and cousins who were all steeped in the gangsta life.
No doubt a defense lawyer will ask Lakeisha Gadson if she really wants to lay bare her personal story. How, for example, by age 31, she’d had five children by three different men, all of them known gang bangers who’ve been in and out of jail.
The lawyer will remind her what a jury will hear: On June 24th, as her little boy lay dying in his bedroom of a gunshot wound to the stomach, Gadson chose to lie to the police and paramedics.
Both she and her then-15-year-old son, Jayquan, told conflicting stories about home invaders bursting into her Grove Hall apartment and opening fire, after she allegedly helped Jayquan hide the illegal gun she knew he had - the same gun that killed little Liquarry.
“Clearly, all (Lakeisha’s) relationships were involved in the gang and drug culture,” said one law enforcement source, “and that’s not counting her own record of assaults. This was a mother who completely subscribed to the street life.”
Before Liquarry’s younger cousin picked up a gun that was lying close by and fired the fatal bullet, Boston police had been compiling the sorry multigenerational profile of a family that formed its own crime wave.
“From the documentation that already existed,” said BPD Commissioner Ed Davis, “you could foresee the potential for tragedy.”
In the seven years that separated Liquarry Jefferson from his older half-brother, Jayquan, there is the gap when one child was lost to the streets and another wound up being lost forever.
“The shame is that it was probably too late for Jayquan,” the law enforcement source noted. “He was already into packing a gun and there’s little doubt he would’ve used it on someone else, if he hasn’t already. But Liquarry, he wasn’t there, yet. This was just an innocent little boy who liked school and was looking forward to the summer - a little boy who was never more in danger than when he was inside his own home.”
It may seem strange to say, but here’s hoping that Lakeisha Gadson does not opt for a plea. In a very real way, she would be performing a public service by going to trial and letting the rest of us glimpse what it is like to grow up in a gang household.
While fishing for a deal is certainly an option, some believe that the same instinct for survival that saw Lakeisha Gadson lie to the cops at the moment her son was dying will ultimately compel her to take her chances, and perhaps play a mother’s anguish, in front of a jury. After all, wouldn’t any mom facing such a miserable dilemma lie to the cops?
“You’re right,” Ed Davis said, “it is a sad and fascinating story in many ways. But it has to be more than just a story. Stories by themselves don’t amount to much. The public tends to move on and forget them. There has to be systems in place and ways to intervene, ways to prevent another chilld like Liquarry from dying at home.”
Related Articles:Mom, half-brother charged in boy’s shooting death/news/regional/general/view.bg?articleid=1084087
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