They could have prayed indoors. It would have been easy to gather at Olivet Baptist Church, sheltered from the searing August heat. But they prayed outdoors, on the street where last March a bullet from a gang member’s gun hit 13-year-old Keoshia Ford in the head and rendered her comatose. They prayed on Bennett Avenue because that’s where they need to be.
“We need churches to get outside of their four walls and onto these streets and talk with kids before things like this happen,” Boyd Patterson, Chattanooga’s Gang Task Force coordinator, said through a squeaky megaphone to about 125 people clustered around Keoshia, who sat in a wheelchair.
Her eyes half closed and her head tilted sideways against the cushion of a head brace, Keoshia appeared to be unaware of what was taking place. But her mother, 30-year-old LeKeshia Matthews, had dressed her for the occasion. Keoshia looked like any other 13-year-old girl in her paisley top, hot pink hair bow and blue cupcake necklace. But there was a heartbreaking detail: the feathery pink earrings draped over the tube protruding from her neck.
This is a girl whose favorite color might be pink, and who is at the age at which a cupcake necklace might be her favorite piece of jewelry, but instead of being free to play with her friends, watch her favorite shows and kiss her mom goodnight – instead of being free to be a normal teenage girl – she sits unconscious in a wheelchair.
In a moment of cold-blooded violence, a bullet inexorably altered the path she would take through life. In the blink of an eye, the friends she would make, the things she would accomplish, the family she might someday have all shifted.
The people who gathered on Bennett Avenue on Aug. 4 fought through prayer to take back the years the gang member had stolen from Keoshia. One by one, pastors of different Christian denominations, races and genders took the megaphone and prayed for strength and provision for Keoshia’s family, for healing for Keoshia and, profoundly, for the salvation of the shooter.
At least one Muslim was in attendance as well, the moon and star that symbolize his faith clearly visible on his shirt. Those present – black and white, young and old, man and woman – clasped hands and raised their voices to heaven in agreement, tears streaming down many of their faces.
God had answered their call for provision in advance. During the 13 days leading up to the prayer meeting, churches, community organizations and individual citizens rallied to donate more essential items than the Matthews household could accommodate.
They also donated thousands of dollars, which Pastor Kevin Adams of Olivet Baptist Church presented in the form of a check to an overwhelmed Matthews.
When Adams tried to hand the microphone to Matthews, she was unable to speak, and in a moment that defined the grief of the aftermath of the shooting, she collapsed to the ground at her daughter’s side.
With the help of those around her, Matthews stood up again. And with their ongoing help and support, she and her family will continue to stand.
Keoshia has become a symbol of what Chattanooga could lose if it does not solve its gang problem. “People wear t-shirts that say ‘I am Trayvon Martin,’” Patterson said, referring to the fatal shooting of an unarmed African American 17-year-old in Florida in February. “Chattanooga is Keoshia Ford.”
The crowd that gathered on Bennett Street to pray for Keoshia also symbolized something – a city rising up to take back its streets. Through every possible means, the people of Chattanooga are reaching out to those who are at risk of succumbing to a life of crime and telling them there’s a better way. They believe they have the power to prevent gang violence, and they are acting on their faith.
Patterson hopes the movement continues to gain momentum. In closing, he called for people to remember the significance of “Chattanooga,” a Creek Indian name meaning “rock rising to a point.”
“Remember our name. Let this land rise to a point, and put your children on that point. Continue to rise up against gang violence,” he said.
Near Keoshia, a small girl in a blue dress watched the crowd disperse. For her sake, Chattanooga must heed Patterson’s words. While it’s too late to stop the drive-by shooting that changed Keoshia’s life, it’s not too late to keep history from repeating itself.