By: kenya

kenya — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 01:25:42 +0000

Thanks for sharing Ben!

By: Ben Jones

Ben Jones — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 01:17:31 +0000

It would have been 10 years this summer that Deanthony and I would have been friends. I was his first of many good friends when he first moved down Southwest. we sold drugs together, we robbed people together, we smoked weed got drunk and just plain had fun together growing up. I never got locked up as a juvenile, but Deanthony was always getting himself into some legal trouble, and right when he turned 18, he stop all of the foolishness while I continued to live that lifestyle as an adult.
Even though we wasn’t getting in trouble together we always hung out. after he got himself situated, i was real proud of my homie. He had his own place, he was working for a anti-violence for youth group, and he had a girlfriend that was very supportive of him. He had every thing that I was trying to get the wrong way. You can ask anybody in his family who is best friend was and they will tell you that it is me. Whenever I didn’t feel like being around southwest I was chilling with my man Yao ( his nickname).
Well anyway, I had violated my probation repeatedly in 2006 and I was sentenced to 15 months jail time in January, 2007. While I was incarcerated, Deanthony was the only true friend I had that even bothered to keep in contact with me, everyone else I thought I was cool with was to busy to even ask one of my many family members down Southwest my information, but not Yao, he knew how I was feeling and he always made me keep my mind right with one of his inspirational speeches.
He use to say stuff like ” man cuz, listen to this rap i wrote,” or ” man you aint missing nothing out here, it will be here when you get home.” I always called him like at least once a week just to say what’s up. When I talk to him he would always say that he haven’t even been down Southwest in a while or he was just working real hard. he would tell me how much things changed and how much he is focused on doing the right thing. I kept in contact up to July because he had moved all of a sudden.
He already knew I was coming home in December so I just knew I was going to see him as soon as I got out, but on November 16, I got the worst letter I received during my whole incarceration. Because I had got in trouble while I was in, I had lost my phone privileges for the last 3 months, so when I got the letter of his death, I couldn’t call, or try to reach out to his family. All I could do was try to understand ” why him?”. Then when I read that he was killed down Southwest, it just didn’t make sense at all. All he had was friends down there, no enemies, but in my heart I suspected that someone we hung with, that him and me grew up with, took his life, but I didn’t want to believe my own thoughts, feelings or the letters that was written to me about his death.
So December 19th,2007 came and I was on my way from Ohio back to d.c. ready to start a new life, and planning to stay out of trouble like how my man Yao would have wanted. The first night I came home, I found out who Yao suspected killer was, that hurt me even more because like I said earlier we all grew up together. Now I might have been in a lot of criminal activity, but guns was rare for me. I just liked to make money , but I am not a violent person at all, but its crazy that if you know someone else is carrying a gun that could potentially “try you,” then that could make you want to protect yourself with a pistol also in fear of loosing your life.
I am 22 to now, about to be 23, and Yao is the first and hopefully the last good friend that was very close to me to loose his life at a early age because of senseless gun violence. I’m still hurting from this because its still hard for me to believe that he is actually gone from this world- physically, but spiritually I know that God has given him the best job available that could benefit his family and friends, and that’s just being a angel and watching over us.

By: Jennifer

Jennifer — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 03:23:13 +0000

Thank you for sharing. My friend’s father was a 73 year old barber in SE Washington, DC. He was shot and killed in his shop by a teenager in June. The killings need to stop. He was killed for his wallet. Sad!

Comments on: Senseless Violence in DC Claims DeAnthony Henson

By: kenya

By: Ben Jones

By: Jennifer