Toronto’s shooting victims got younger and younger in 2013 ”It’s not like a video game. It’s not like you can shut it off and start it over again,” says police Supt. Ron Taverner. ___________________ Sandra Cocomello is seen hugging her son, Michael Cocomello Mandino, while holding a cake. He was 20 when he was fatally stabbed just around the corner on March 4. Sandra Cocomello is seen hugging her son, Michael Cocomello Mandino, while holding a cake. He was 20 when he was fatally stabbed just around the corner on March 4. By: Jennifer Pagliaro City Hall reporter, Published on Mon Dec 30 2013 Wayne and Melda Montaque repeat the word as they describe their 15-year-old son, who was standing outside their Rexdale front door one moment and then lying bleeding in a nearby alley the next. Jarvis Montaque, 15, was gunned down Feb. 17 by an unknown man in an unexplained attack. He was eating snacks with his friends outside, a rare moment for a boy who lived most of his time indoors studying, watching TV and hanging out with his sisters. His killing has not been solved. “Nobody knows how hard it is,” said his father, Wayne, who brought his family to Canada from Jamaica for a better life. “He always said, ‘Daddy, smile.’ ” His son was always trying to make everyone happy, Montaque said. Jarvis is one of seven teens aged 16 and under who were shot dead in 2013 — the highest number of youth killed by guns in a single year in Toronto in more than two decades. The total number of homicides this year was 57. INTERACTIVE: Toronto’s homicide victims in 2013 (Note: graphic doesn’t include the murders of Sammy Yatim on July 27, Vito Gironda on Dec. 25 and To Nu Hua, on Dec. 26) But the average age of homicide shooting victims has sunk to 22 from 26 in 2012, according to statistics compiled by the Star from police data and news reports. It is a dramatic shift from 1998, when the average age was 34. It’s also the lowest average age since 1990. The year started with three teens, all 15, killed in quick succession: Tyson Bailey in Regent Park, St. Aubyn Rodney near Jane and Finch and Montaque in Jamestown. “That light out there, it still goes off,” said Melda Montaque, referring to the outdoor lantern that was broken the day Jarvis was shot. Police said at the time that the lights were mounted at an awkward angle and, as a result, his killer’s face could not be caught on camera. In the darkness, not much would have been visible. Montaque’s family is still desperately trying to escape the townhouse they once shared with their son. They have had their things packed for months: furniture and marked boxes stacked to the ceiling in the living room. They were offered a transfer to a Queensplate Dr. complex, where the large family would be forced to downsize to three bedrooms, and to Driftwood, a neighbourhood that has also earned a reputation for violence and teen shootings. They’re still hoping for a miracle. “I’m praying Feb. 17 does not catch us here,” Melda said. They’ve talked about going to Toronto Community Housing headquarters with Jarvis’ picture on T-shirts. “They have to do something,” she said. This summer, Tahj Loor Walters, 15, was gunned down across from his Jane St. complex, where Rodney also lived. Then O’She Doyles-Whyte, 16, and Kwame Duodu, 15, were shot and killed together just blocks away in broad daylight. All four were friends. There has only been an arrest in Rodney’s case — a 17-year-old youth said by his lawyer to be the teen’s friend, in what was apparently an accidental shooting. All those killed by guns this year were males. In February, Toronto police Supt. Ron Taverner reflected on the violence, noting that youth weren’t just dying, they were also doing the killing. He called it “kids killing kids.” “It just speaks to me of the level of people not caring for human life as much as they did, or there seems to be no realization that when you do this it’s permanent,” he said after hearing the year-end numbers. “They’re gone. It’s not like a video game. It’s not like you can shut it off and start it over again.” There have been targeted initiatives, gang projects and programs for youth, but there’s no easy answer, given that there are still guns on the street, Taverner said. More than once this year Jarvis’ name has come to mind: the boy who was senselessly gunned down in his division. “This kid had never been in any problems at all. He was a good student,” Taverner said. “That one in particular really resonated with the officers here.” Compounding the problem is the lack of information about these slayings flowing from neighbourhoods like Montaque’s — even when there were dozens of witnesses. Montaque’s parents say they know the community has information. “No one’s saying anything,” Wayne said. “If we’re hearing, we know the police are hearing.” But there have been no updates from investigators in months, he said. Neeko Mitchell, 25, was gunned down outside a Rexdale community centre during a basketball tournament in November. At the time, investigators spoke frankly of the disappointing number of witnesses stepping forward. Taverner told a news conference that the community centre remained virtually unused after the shooting. Taverner said only three people showed up at a meeting to discuss community safety. “What does that tell you?” he asked. “Three people, my god.” Those cases with young victims have thus far challenged investigators. “The younger kids, they’re old enough to recognize the street code,” said Det.-Sgt. Justin Vander Heyden, speaking about the silence that often stifles some communities. “They don’t have the street maturity to know when to put that aside.” Bailey’s murder, one of Vander Heyden’s cases this year, has stayed with the five-year veteran. There are some leads, but without anyone coming forward to offer information there is little police can do. Still, he said, “I’m still optimistic about Tyson.” So far, the homicide squad has made arrests in 74 per cent of this year’s cases, up from 72 per cent last year. Those cases, most still weaving through the courts, include the murder of Anthony Smith, 21, who became a household name after he posed for a picture with Mayor Rob Ford outside what police have called a crack house. There was also Sammy Yatim, the 18-year-old teen gunned down on a streetcar in a hail of nine bullets fired by an on-duty police officer, which sparked a public outcry for immediate changes to use-of-force policies. Const. James Forcillo was charged with second-degree murder and, in a rare move by Chief Bill Blair, suspended from duty. Toronto also lost a family of three — Tatiana Khalilova, Svetlana Babaega and Victor Zybinin — in an apparent domestic triple homicide in Etobicoke. Then there was kind-hearted Anthony “Koko” Chang, who was trying to let a young man repay his debt after a collision. And there was Rigat Essag Ghirmay, killed, dismembered and left for trash. Investigators solved her murder earlier this year in connection with a 2012 case. One of the arrests, which went unreported, was in the death of 20-year-old Michael Cocomello Mandino. Sandra Cocomello still remembers her son’s cries for help that March evening. After he was stabbed around the corner from their second-storey walk-up at Eglinton Ave. W and Nairn Ave., Cocomello Mandino made it to the front steps of the building before collapsing. Sandra was there to hold him in her arms, to speak with him one last time. She said her son named his alleged attacker, which she passed on to police. “The thing I have to hold on to … I got to hold him before he died,” she said recently. A youth, who cannot be identified under the Youth Criminal Justice Act, was arrested in August, Det. Ted Lioumanis confirmed. Now her son’s face is inked on the inside of Cocomello’s arm — his signature “look” is a sly side smile she’ll always remember. He flashed her one just before he walked out of the apartment that night. Her son’s acceptance letter to George Brown College arrived the next day. “The mailman cried when he gave me that,” she said. Now the letter hangs framed on the apartment wall next to other tokens of Cocomello Mandino’s achievements growing up. The two cats he rescued from the street laze about the living room. Cocomello is also trying to leave the apartment she shared with her son. On the fourth day of every month she gathers his friends and walks to the corner where her son was stabbed. They release balloons. Every month, Montaque’s family lights blue candles next to a framed picture of the smiling teen. As Christmas neared, both families winced at the thought of holiday celebrations this year, of setting up the tree without their lost sons. “He was irreplaceable,” Cocomello said. “I haven’t learned yet. I still feel him here.”
Posted on: Mon, 09 Jun 2014 22:39:57 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015