'A Bronx Tale of Waste and Murder."
F.Duffy and Friends
Sometimes, when an article is posted on a newsgroup, people complain
because they feel it is not relevant to the topics usually discussed
there. I will not attempt to address WHY what I am about to say is
relevant. I will simply say that I trust you will find its relevance,
as well as its worthiness of being heard.
The title of this message is also the title of an article written by
Mike McAlary of the New York Daily News. It concerns the murder of a
young man by the name of Derek Valentin, a young man who, in what was
perhaps a foolish act, went to meet a guy about a girl, intending to
settle their dispute with their fists. Unfortunately, it didn't
happen that way. Instead, shots were fired by a member of the gang
Derek's foe brought to the meeting ground (the fistfight was only
supposed to be between Derek and his adversary, by the way), and Derek
and his friend Heith Simmonds were killed. Derek was shot in the
back, not even facing the kid who killed him. Derek also happens to
have been my cousin.
So far, only one person, Rinaldo Perez, is in police custody at the
moment for the incident which led to my cousin's death. There were
others involved. However, they have not been charged.
I am using the Internet to ask people, such as you who are reading
this, to take time out and let those whose responsibility it is to
bring those involved in this crime to justice KNOW that there are
people out there who care and are concerned that they do their job.
I intend to post the McAlary article and its accompanying pictures on
alt.binaries.pictures.misc, so that you can see some of the faces
involved. The text of the article is reprinted here. Following that
is what YOU can do about what happened - a letter you can send to help
see that justice is done. A copy of this letter will also be posted to
alt.binaries.pictures.misc.
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BRONX TALE OF WASTE AND MURDER
--Mike McAlary, Daily News
In the midafternoon, with no ball to be played and no children to
cheer, the Bronx block smelled like a funeral home. On the porch
where the dead teenager used to sit through summer evenings talking
baseball or sweethearts, there were three corsages. They were left
over from the wake. They are like memory, perishable.
A copy of the Sunday Daily News was still rolled up, shrouded in
plastic, at the front door. The mourners have taken an understandable
break from the news. Two stories dominated the media in America last
week. Neither of them apply to real life on this block.
Baseball went on strike, and the Yankees walked away from the Bronx.
In Washington, sanity went on strike and politicians walked away from
the crime bill. That left no ball and plenty of guns in the Bronx.
This is one story from the front, where the sons and daughters of
Ellis Island immigrants are now mourning the dead on Ellis Ave.
The obscure story began last Monday. The 17-year-old kid, Derek Paul
Valentin, was hit in the chest with a bullet. He dies on the spot,
ending an argument over a girl. A novice in matters of love and war,
Derek made a simple deadly error. He showed up with balled fists at a
gunfight.
This killing - one of two that happened in this rumble - was not about
drugs or even failure. It is about a mistaken sense of gallantry.
Derek Paul Valentin died for a girl, which is what teenage men argue
about when they're not talking about jump shots or home runs. Love
and stupidity never go on strike in New York.
In the nation's capital, violence is a vague idea. It is something
you read about in a book or bill. But this story is real. Too real.
Before he was murdered last week, along with his best friend, Derek
carried the kind of heart we all cheer. In the Bronx, where there are
too many false heroes - Steve Howe, Luis Polonia, et al. - this kid
was a legitimate urban star; a Bronx fable in the making. After
graduating from a Catholic grammar school, he attended Iona Prep,
where he was better at opening history books than football playbooks.
Upon graduation, he planned on attending the University of Florida.
His older sister Vanessa goes to Miami. In the shadow of the funeral
corsage yesterday, the children were flowering.
"I won't have a little brother anymore," said Vanessa.
"My son was never in the street," his mother, Nellie, said after
returning from the cemetery. "Our children were role models. I
helped all of them prepare their college applications. They were all
good kids. The boys have to get the message. This nonsense about
bravery doesn't pay. You can be tough all you want, but guns are
everywhere."
Derek had a girlfriend. Her name is Stacy. But the fight wasn't
about her. It was about a teenage neighbor, a girl named Guinevere,
of all things. This girl had her own Sir Lancelot, a guy named Marco,
who did not like seeing both girls with Derek. So he started a beef
with our hero at the girlfriend's house. But they couldn't settle it
there, Derek said; that would be disrespectful. So he made plans to
meet Marco later at the corner of Barnes and Allerton Aves.
This summer's rendition of "West Side Story" began at 10 p.m. last
Monday. The posturing cast stood around swearing and spitting. Most
of the kids, who have never been in trouble before, attended Mount St.
Michael's, a private school in Bronxdale.
Derek went to a fistfight with two good hands. He had been guaranteed
the disagreement would be settled that way. As he got out of the car,
and came around, he saw Marco. The other kid listened for a minute
and then yelled, "Bust him. Bust him."
Someone stepped forward with the gun. Derek was killed. Then his
friend Heith Christopher Simmonds, also 17, dropped. They both died
within seconds.
This is this summer's story about boys and girls in the Bronx. Some
of the kids involved here are black, others are Hispanic. Two boys,
Derek and Heith, who called themselves cousins, died on the way to
college and Bronx greatness.
"I never knew he was having a problem with anyone," said the dead
boy's father, Paul Valentin, a well-known Bronx real estate agent.
A neighbor, who grew up on the same street, was in tears yesterday.
"So sad," said Ozzie Valez. "It is such a waste. I don't even like
Giuliani but he's right about the crime bill. It was good to see him
with President Clinton. We need the crime bill right here on Ellis
Ave. Derek could have done anything. Maybe he would have been a
doctor."
Derek wasn't a big or tough kid. He certainly wasn't anything
approaching a bully. But there was no fight or argument to be had.
Gunfire silenced two children's voices in the Bronx. The shooter has
been arrested. But the prosecutor should also arrest the kid who
talked him into shooting. Bronx voices.
The voices stopped with gunfire.
This leaves the mother to sit alone on a Sunday evening in the Bronx.
In a room where mourners come and go, talking angrily of wasted life
and chances, the windows are still open to the street. The wind blew
in with the scent of flowers from the porch. With the crime bill as
dead as children in the Bronx, it is a foul wind blowing across
America. But it starts on Ellis Ave., in the Bronx.
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If you would like to help, mail the following to:
Mr. Robert Johnson
Bronx District Attorney
215 East 161st Street
Bronx, New York 10451
as well as a copy to:
The Honorable Rudy Giuliani
City Hall
New York, NY 10007
Dear Mr. Johnson / Mayor Giuliani:
I am writing because of the murders of Derek Paul Velentin and
his best friend Heith Christopher Simmonds on August 8, 1994.
I heard that only one of the persons involved in this terrible
crime was charged. If this is true, a mistake has been made.
I hope your office is doing everything it can to bring all
those involved to justice.
Sincerely,
_____________________________
(YOUR FULL NAME, PRINTED)
_____________________________
(YOUR ADDRESS, PRINTED)
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*** IMPORTANT ***
IF YOU DO INTEND TO MAIL OUT THESE LETTERS TO HELP DEREK'S CAUSE,
THANK YOU!!! HIS PARENTS WANT TO KEEP COUNT OF HOW MANY LETTERS ARE
ACTUALLY GETTING OUT THERE, SO IF YOU ARE SENDING THEM, PLEASE E-MAIL ME
AT fdu...@eden.rutgers.edu, SO I CAN KEEP COUNT FOR THEM.
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