In some cities they watch the leaves turn from summer to autumn. In some cities they count additions to the skyline every year or the number of new companies that have located there. In St. Louis we keep our eyes on the body count.
On what seems like a daily basis, longtime FOX 2 News reporter Elliott Davis has been adding to the St. Louis body count asking just when we’ll hit the 188 murders we hit last year. Some seemed to be excited about outdoing the carnage of 2016. This reflects a time-honored St. Louis tradition of “if you can’t be known for anything good then be good at being bad.”
We hit 188 murders on Thanksgiving, a day when families were gathering at dinner tables throughout the St. Louis metropolitan area to eat pie, watch football, and spend time with their loved ones. My family was no different. However, as my family members gathered for food, they were greeted with tragic news.
Shelbyon Polk, better known as Lil’ Chubb, was shot and murdered on Thanksgiving morning on the West Side. He was our beloved family member and my nephew. A smart young man with a curious mind and a gentle soul, he loved football and he loved learning, constantly asking me for educational video recommendations on YouTube.
The murder of Lil’ Chubb came just over two years after his father, Shelby Polk, was murdered leaving a bar on South Broadway. That murder affected him deeply. A once-promising football player at Kirkwood High School and in the Junior Football League, Lil’ Chubb began struggling with depression and going through periods of erratic behavior, leaving the whole family concerned.
My sister Sunni Joy was very close to her oldest child, who took on a mentorship role to his four younger siblings, but the scars ran deep. No matter how he got there, what betrayal or callousness led to his murder, we’ve lost a promising young man we loved.
When we see a number like 188 murders in a year, we should know that each murder has a legacy. Each life lost to murder affects thousands of lives. Some families never get back on track. Others are taken places in life they never dreamed of being.
I am writing this now from Dallas. I’m in Dallas to be near my youngest daughter. She is here because her grandmother, a New York native, moved here as a result of her husband being tragically murdered.
Murder has shaped my life and the life of those around me. Collectively this has changed the entire culture, mentality, and even housing patterns of the region, just as living in a nation where mass shootings are the norm has permanently altered our national psyche.
Please, do not callously dismiss each new murder that comes across your screen as a statistic. Do not greet the news with cynicism, snark, or racism. Greet the news with the recognition that every human life has dignity and the loss of every life leaves a trail of victims and mourners.
Then ask yourself, and ask your families and neighbors: What can be done to stop this madness? How do we approach the violent-crime issue in a systematic matter, bringing in elected officials, law enforcement, faith leaders, community activists, and youth, and then go about doing the work of saving lives?
I ask for your prayers for my family and for our city.
You may reach Ivan Lee at uileestl@gmail.com.
