Terrell Mayes Jr., 3, with mother, Marsha. |
Hearing gunfire, the four boys inside the two-story house on Colfax Avenue N. stopped their dinner and headed for the safety of an upstairs closet. They had gone there before, after hearing gunshots on other nights, so maybe it seemed normal to 3-year-old Terrell Mayes, Jr. He brought his plate of spaghetti.
Ezra, 11, went first, leading his younger brothers upstairs. Terrell, who had just begun speaking this summer and was sad he couldn't use his new sled this brown Christmas, was second in line.
Someone shooting in the alley a block over and around the corner had already fired at least twice, hitting a garage. The shooter pulled the trigger again and the bullet missed its target but sailed on, crossing a street, a yard, another street and then an empty lot before it pierced the blue-painted exterior of Marsha Mayes' home. It bore into the stairwell, striking Terrell in the back of the head.
Seventeen hours later, at 11:30 a.m. Tuesday, Terrell died at North Memorial Medical Center.
Bullets don't know when to stop.
If Guns were as illegal as drugs drug dealers wouldn't shoot anybody with guns, right?
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