He had been the repeated victim of bullies and criminals in his life. The 19-year-old had a mild form of autism. The murder of Anthony Naiboa seems to make people especially angry. Yet Dugan also says he doesn’t blame them. This is not advisable, says Tampa Police Chief Dugan. There’s talk that Anthony’s dad and his family are tracking down the sonofabitch themselves, with a sort of parallel investigation. How would my last night look, if it came sooner than expected? How would yours? It’s enough to lose an innocent to mindless violence - but this kid spent his last night on earth doing charitable work. If you want to know the Seminole Heights community and what’s been happening, you need to know that side first.Īnthony Naiboa was working at a warehouse packing supplies for hurricane relief. They’ve died working-class, aspirational, unemployed. They’ve died alone, out on the street, vulnerable. Nobody has died while drinking cocktails or eating burgers. That’s good, but let’s not get it twisted. But on Thursday night there were people all along the bar. I was more concerned for Ella’s Americana Folk Art Cafe: it’s only a short distance from where the shooter claimed his latest victim, Felton, on Tuesday. Last night at Independent Bar and Cafe, every table was full. High school kids are waiting on rides and flirting. Would I have that amount of radiant positive impact at work, while bringing people hash browns and refilling coffee? Would you?Īs I write this it’s late afternoon at the Seminole Heights Public Library. The regulars she waited on adored her, came to her funeral.
She had just gotten off her shift on the night she was killed. Monica Caridad Hoffa was a waitress at IHOP. No small amount of good in the world comes about because someone needs the paycheck. There was something comforting about it, the people busy with hammers and saws on Fifteenth Street like nothing was wrong. They weren’t going to stop working for some sonofabitch. And there was a work truck parked in front of a house being renovated, with a crew still working at almost 8 o’clock at night. There was the cheerful man riding back from the grocery store, plastic bags hanging from his handlebars. There were the old folks sitting on chairs in the corner lot. The street was not deserted the way you might expect. I drove along it near dusk a few weeks ago, unwilling to change routes, feeling angry. It’s the one that now has memorials to Benjamin Edward Mitchell and Anthony Naiboa within a block of each other. It’s also the street that, more than any other, has been terrorized by the killings.
When was the last time I structured my life around an aunt, an uncle, a loved one? When was your last time?įifteenth Street is the main artery of southeast Seminole Heights. (Long live “Eddie Banks.”) But he still made sure to spend time with his beloved aunt. Each one lived a life that works as a direct antidote to the fear and hate that are threatening the neighborhood.īenjamin Edward Mitchell was working hard, going to school while holding down a job at IKEA and moonlighting as a rapper. And the astounding thing is how much each of them has to teach us about the very moment we find ourselves in. So I’m trying to learn the victims’ lessons instead. Sooner or later that person will get caught, or get shot, or shrivel up and blow away, or whatever it is that cowards with guns do. Those lessons would be to stay indoors, be afraid of walking alone after dark, beware of everyone you don’t know, and so on.īut I don’t really want to learn the sonofabitch’s lessons. One way is to learn the lessons of the unknown person whom Mayor Bob Buckhorn eloquently named the sonofabitch (cf. It seems to me that there are a couple of different ways to do that. Here in Seminole Heights, we’re looking for ways to deal with four random murders, and everything that has come with them - the nerves, the police stops, the helicopters’ hocketta-hocketta-hocketta overhead at night. Ronald Felton was headed to a church to help serve people food, long before dawn, in the cold, in the dark, alone. But I’m holding onto the first part of the story. He never got there - somebody stopped him. Cristian Jarrell Davila-SerranoAt about 4:50 a.m., Ronald Felton was crossing the street in front of New Season Apostolic Ministries. REMEMBER HIM: A memorial for Ronald Felton outside New Season Apostolic Ministries, where he was headed to help feed the homeless when he was shot.