In 1992, my brother was murdered on a quiet street in Brooklyn. My vibrant, handsome, funny, compassionate and loving brother was killed with a gunshot to his chest.
When the words “Chet is dead” were spoken to me, the shock and horror were unimaginable. Identifying my brother’s body was a life-altering and devastating trauma. For many months the only peace I had were the first few seconds of each day when I opened my eyes and for one brief moment forgot what had happened.
Through long years of confusion, anger, sorrow, vigils, investigation, and ultimately an exhausting trial, impact letters and sentencing it came to an “end”. But the closure has never come because a huge piece of our lives is missing and can never be replaced.
My brother was only 16 months younger than me and our lives had been intertwined for “my” ever. Chet’s violent death has been the most devastating event of my life, a night that has permanently bruised my soul. PTSD is a damaging condition. 27 yrs later I continue to mourn the violent end to his accomplished & precious life.
Through Moms Demand Action I work to #DisarmHate in his memory. #HonorWithAction #PainToPurpose