He was my youngest son, only 24 years old, when his life was stolen from him.
Dontre was one of what was a family of six children.
After moving from home, Dontre sought out a life on his own in a new Ohio city. Planting seeds among new people and places.
Always staying engaged with his siblings and me, he was ready to be his own man and make his own mark in the world. He was planning his entrance into the study of theology to become a minister of God.
Visiting his girlfriend in a local resort, he was approached by a set of brothers in an effort to defend their friend. That day, my son fought for his life. It wasn’t enough to save him: One of the guys pulled a gun and took my child from us.
My life and Dontre’s siblings’ lives have been forever altered.
It’s only been a few months since then, so we continue to attempt to live without my fourth child.
We wear his ashes around our necks today, but his presence can never be replaced.