At a deadly corner, praying for Sandtown and the city
Residents come together and speak from the heart about violence that seems to be spiraling out of control
Above: Hands joined on a corner in Sandtown, residents pray for an end to the killing.
The people holding hands in a circle at the corner of Carey and Laurens streets in Sandtown had a lot in common, much of it lately awful.
Marshall Cullens, who lives up the street from the spot, said the shootings and killings there were becoming unbearable and contacted Doni Glover.
Glover, a Sandtown native who came though his own rough history to become a media figure in Baltimore, lives next door to a 19-year-old woman who’d been shot at that intersection a week earlier. (A 29-year-old man also shot there that night died, police say.)
Tammy Walker, meanwhile, lost a son eight years ago and hates to watch other mothers experience that pain.
But as these three and about a dozen people spoke in turn last Sunday at on a hot patch of sidewalk in West Baltimore, they weren’t technically addressing each other – they were talking to God.
Doni Glover, of bmorenews.com, at the prayer hour he organized. (Photo by Fern Shen)
“We ask that you would help to strengthen us, Lord, give us the strength to make this place a better place,” Cullens said. “It shouldn’t be like this.”
“We would ask that the Devil leave this place because he has a grip on this community. We’d ask that you break that grip right now, Lord, break the stronghold that is holding this community back.”
“We ask now, Father, that the politicians, God let them open their hearts, let them open their ears to the plight of the city,” Cullen said.
“They have the power to make the changes,” he said. “Let them know it’s not just about the downtown and Inner Harbor it’s about the beautiful Baltimore City in general.”
At the site of a fatal shooting a week earlier. (Photo by Fern Shen)
Us Killing Us
With shootings and killings seemingly a daily occurrence here (a Brew analysis of major U.S. cities shows that Baltimore is currently the second most deadly city in America), people and institutions have been responding in a variety of ways.
A new police chief, a multi-agency “war room,” embedded federal agents – these have been the steps taken by City Hall to stem the violence.
In Sandtown on Sunday, the strategy was to pray.
“It’s just so horrible, Lord Father God, the tragedies we have had every day,” Tammy Walker said. “I am a mother that lost a son to the streets of Baltimore and the violence, Lord Father God.”
Diane Bell McCoy, second from right, joins others in prayer for an end to violence. (Photo by Fern Shen)
“If this continues, there’s going to be no young brothers left.” Walker said. “It’s not so much them killing them, it’s us killing us and it needs to stop, Lord Father God. We need to step up to the plate.”
“Whatever it is we need to do, Lord Father God, we need to do it quick, fast and in a hurry ’cause it’s just too much killing,” she said.
“Why are these young people so afraid of living? They’re so afraid of living that they’re not afraid to die.”
Tanaira Cullens, looking up, and others gather on Sunday. (Photo by Fern Shen)
Standing Together
They may have been addressing God, but the group clearly took comfort from each others’ presence and words.
There were amens at the end of prayers, and embraces all around at the end of the hour. Three women, one of them with tears streaming down her cheeks, held each other for a long time.
Glover noted some of the people who were there: Rev. Lisa M. Weah of the nearby New Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minister Al Stokes, Marsha Bannerman (Glover’s longtime compatriot in Sandtown organizing), Lucky Crosby, and Diane Bell McCoy, president and CEO of Associated Black Charities.
With hands raised, the group shouts “Amen.” (Photo by Fern Shen)
“It’s lovely to see she can still do grassroots,” Glover later texted, noting the many accomplishments of “Dbell,” as friends call McCoy. “#volumes.”
There was a mother and child in the group. Women still wearing clothing from their hospital jobs. Marvin L. “Doc” Cheatham, president of the Matthew A. Henson Neighborhood Association was there in Orioles orange.
Throughout the prayer hour, two city police officer could be seen standing outside 57 Liquors at the opposite corner.
Members of the group comfort a woman who broke down at the end of the prayer session. (Photo by Fern Shen)
Rise Up, Rise Above
One of the people Glover pointed to with pride was Cullen’s 24-year-old daughter, Tanaira Cullens, who recently earned a Master’s degree from Johns Hopkins University in environmental science and policy.
Here is some of what she had to say when her turn came to pray:
Allow those who are in this community in this city to understand what the problems are that need to be solved, that they wouldn’t just say, “Oh, there’s people moving to my community, oh, I’m just getting a better grocery store.” No, it’s gentrification, God.
I ask that you would allow those people to rise up and to not do negative things, but to find a way to do positive things in their community so that their brothers and sisters will have the opportunities that they didn’t have, God.
I ask that you would touch them in their minds and their bodies and their spirits so that they can be strong. And yes it is the responsibility of men, of the heads of households, to rise up and bring up their child and their sisters in the struggle.
I ask dear God, bless them with the intelligence and the courage to rise above their situation God and allow them to do right things. Amen.
Police officers stood watch at the opposite corner, outside 57 Liquors. (Photo by Fern Shen)