Kevin B. Jones "Kev"
28 Years Old

May 9, 1971 to June 12, 1999

They say you're a star because you made the papers. Honestly I don't believe that. For 28 years, you've been shining. Too tired to do the things you loved to do. These troubled thoughts fill me with guilt. I blame myself because there's no one else. Blame my eyes because they wanted to sleep. Blaming them like any parent you put them on punishment for four nights and no sleep. Should I take one last look at you in this casket and blind them so you will be the last in my memory. I blame my pockets, they were empty when you suggested let's go clubbing. I probably could have been the extra eye you needed.

Kevin loved the movies, cars, and music. Loved the finer things, nice clothes and jewelry addictions passed down from his mother (Jackie). He had a sense of humor like no other. When Kevin gave advice he managed to make it funny. Either way you got your point across. The blood of his West Indian culture was definitely in Kevin. He gave everyone nicknames.

Never thought this could have happened. Me and the crew looking at you in a casket. Too young to leave wills. People kill leaving nothing but a lonely feeling and a memory of how it used to be before adult stages life turn like pages. Friends become enemies and everything is limited. I can't believe death and no peace from a distance. All I see is vengeance.

Maybe when the anger is released you will come to me in my sleep. You will encourage me to keep the peace. Never to be afraid when walking the streets. Never be afraid to make use of our greatest weapon which is our mind.

The case is unsolved so we wrote a poem for Jackie. Dedicated to Mom's.

Mom I purchased a gun today
Ever since today I haven't been the same.
I know we wasn't raised this way,
But it's the way we live today.
What can I do to be your son once again?
I know exactly what you're going to say.
Take this gun and throw it into the bay.
Take me to the church and tell the Pastor
Your son has stray. Thank goodness he's home once again.

Mom, I purchased a gun today and ever since I haven't been the same. Why did man create such a destructive weapon? I am afraid to see it, even to touch it, knowing this is what took my brethren Kevin. Who am I to blame - man or the gun? Don't be afraid, Mom. I'm still your son.

Mom, can I stay forever under your skirt? There are kids out there who are mad at the world. Martin Luther spoke out for us, dying for our color. Today, they kill for a color. If I wear red or if I wear blue what are we going to do? I'm sorry that I sinned when I purchased a gun. I had thoughts to kill. Will tomorrow be a good day when I toss this gun into the bay? Before we go, can we go on our knees and pray?

In memory of Kevin Jones

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Kevin Jones