“Didn’t you hear?” Anne-Marie, the coach of Jane Finch’s finest basketball team asks me. “It was Omar who was stabbed to death last weekend. You know. the guy who painted with Biago, the tall good looking young black man who was always quiet and hardly said anything.” “It was his best friend who did it – he turned himself in the next day. We all knew that his friend had some mental health issues and he was in and out of prison but they really never helped him with it.”
Omar was one of the youth apprentice painters in the community. Several years ago, after the “Year of the Gun” in 2005, the Toronto Community Housing (TCH) property manager, Mwarigha, started this pilot program in which private contractors doing painting, carpentry and landscaping in the public housing communities of Firgrove and Yorkwoods had to hire youth of these communities as apprentices who were involved in negative activities ( ie selling drugs) . The life skills and support for the program was provided by Micro Skills for Change and the whole premise of the program was that providing some of these youth with a trade would take them out of their illegal making money activity. Omar was one of the star pupils of the apprenticeship program. I remember him telling me that if he continued down the path he was going he would have seen himself either in prison or dead. It is just too bad that other circumstance caused his death
Biago , the contractor took a real shining to Omar, as we all did. When the Ministry office moved, from 5 Needle to the Grassways townhouses in Firgrove, Omar was involved in the renovating and painting the space. The last time I spoke with Omar he said that he was thinking of going out on his own and being an independent contractor. I told him he should talk further with me about our Micro credit program which provides loans to community members wanting to start a business but unable to get a loan from the banks.
When I had read in the paper about the fatal stabbing at a restaurant near Keele and Sheppard on Feb. 5th I didn’t realize that it was our Omar. I asked Anne Marie what the funeral arrangements were and she said that she did not know but thought something was happening on Saturday. I explained that on Saturday I was going to be involved in an all day strategic planning session with a community board, but I would see what I could do.
On Friday I called Biago to find out what was happening. He explained that on Saturday the community was planning on doing a fundraiser at the Firgrove Community Learning Centre to help the family with funeral costs. He was said he was going to be there from about 1 pm ‘til around 4 pm. I told him of my board commitment and he said not to worry, the event was going to go until 1:00 in the morning and I should come afterward. I called Lorraine, the coordinator of the learning centre to verify the times and she realized that the property manger who issued the permit had made a mistake and it should have only been booked until 11:00 pm because the Centre is in the middle of the Firgrove community, surrounded by townhouses, the space was only to be permitted to 11:00 pm to respect noise by-law requirements. She said she would be in touch with the organizers to let them know that they would need to finish up by 11:00 and that Maryan, one of the keyminders would be locking up. She also said that she would inform TCH security about the event and ask for them to drop by around 11:00.
I decided that I would attend the event later in the evening to pay my respects, make a financial contribution and, more importantly, to support Maryan with the closing. There had been a situation several months previously when some renters partied way past 1:00 and security had to be called to help shut it down.
In my 15 years working in Jane and Finch I have never really been scared for my life. However with this event, for some strange reason, I began to wonder thinking about what potential problems that could occur in trying to shut down early a party that had started at 1:00 in the afternoon. If Omar was stabbed by a close friend, what if one of the patron’s, especially if the person had been drinking from 1:00, took offence, with this ”white boy”, not known to them, comes and tells them to ”shut it down” two hours early? Anne Marie said that she might come to the event and I knew Tenesha , Omars’s girlfriend, but other than that I didn’t know of anybody else I knew who would be there. With Omar from the Yorkwoods community the reality would be that I would be a stranger to most of the people.
I told myself I would not be confrontational; wait until security arrived and then gently, gracefully bring the party to a close. In leaving my house at 9:00, I kissed my wife and daughter and told them that I loved them. Off I went, a bit nervous, but feeling God on my shoulder. If something did happen would my wife and daughter find the Valentines’ cards and gifts hidden? If something did happen would the hospital or police know whom to call? As I parked my car I thought to myself, “If I did get shot or stabbed and everybody scattered would I call 911 and wait for the ambulance to come or, because the Centre is in a maze of covered parking lots and difficult to find would I be better just driving myself to the hospital?”
As I approached the learning centre I saw all kinds of cars parked outside the centre and by my office. Through the windows I could see a whole crowd of black faces. The music was booming but not overly loud. There were a bunch of people standing outside, between the centre and the community ministry office, drinking and smoking. As I approached them who do I see – Dominique. Dominique sees me and screams, “Oh my God – Barry – I’m feeling the love.” Then he opens his arms to give me a hug and says “Give me some lovin.” After a big bear hug he asks me how my daughter is. “She’s four hey?” No, I explain to him that she is now ten. “Has it been that long?” he asks me “It must be 8 or 9 years since I’ve seen you last”.
I first met Dominique after three years into my role as a community minister. While helping to establish the Jane Finch Street Involved Youth Issues Coalition I had approached Dominique about hiring him to conduct some surveys with some of the youth hanging out and find out their issues. Dominique was a street dealer out of Firgrove and the Plaza across the street. I approached him since he seemed to be a real leader. With his quick tongue and smart wit he could out street rap anyone. With his finger jewellery and contact lenses, which made his irises all white, he looked like a menacing “bad ass” dude. He had been shot several times and showed me the bullet wounds to prove it. I could not convince him to administer the survey but through his introduction was able to interview some of the youth hanging out in Firgrove myself. Through the process we were able to create a real bond together.
I had lost contact with Dominique many years ago and thought the worst. Either he was in prison or dead. It was great to see him again. He introduced me to a couple of young guys he was talking to on the steps of the community ministry. He told them about the survey thing and explained that I approached him when he was a dealer on the corner of Firgrove and even though he carried a gun in the back of his trousers those days, I was not sacred of him. He explained that it was years since he sold drugs and for the last 11 years he has been employed as a roofer making really good money. “Sure beats standing on the street corner freezing your ass off selling weed.” He then went on to say that he witnessed me tell the police “like it is” not like “a rat” but “takin it to the Police like it is”. Later that evening in talking to some of the younger youth in Firgrove who were 5 years old when I first met Dominique he said to them, “You used to think that I was a Godfather. Let me tell you, this man is a mother fuckin Godfather (pointing to me), like a gangster godfather. You think I had power, whatever this man wanted, the community would make it so.”
So, with God on one of my shoulders and Dominique on the other, I felt a little bit more comfortable in my role in bringing the party to a close. In coming into the Centre which was filled with over 100 people, mostly young adults, Although I recognized a few faces, most I did not know and I was aware of the looks they gave me like “who’s this guy?”.
Some of the people were sitting eating the wonderful food that was prepared for the fundraiser – fried fish, an assortment of chicken, rice and peas and several salads. Other were swaying and whining to the music. Styrofoam cups concealed the drinks of rum and beer. I scanned the room and eventually seeing Tenesha (the girlfriend of Omar) I realized I was the only other white person there. I passed on my condolences to Tenesha and her mom, Beverly, who I have known for many years. Beverly is in a wheel chair and our food bank delivery’s groceries to her once a month.
Most of the evening I hung outside chatting with folks and around 10:20 decided that I should check with the organizers to ensure they knew that the end time was 11:00 and not 1:00. Going into the kitchen I was pleasantly surprised to see that the main cook was Angela from the Firgrove Tenant’s Association. I asked her if she knew that the permit ended at 11:00 and would that be okay. She said she didn’t think that would be a problem and then called over one of Omar’s friends and he agreed to tell the DJ to shut it down in about a half an hour. They then provided me with some excellent escovitch (grilled fish soaked overnight with a marinade of pickled scotch bonnet peppers and spices) which is great to eat while sipping a beer. I put some cash in the donation box. Including a small gift from the Community Ministry they actually raised over $1,200 to go to the family to help with Omar’s funeral costs.
The music did come off shortly after 11:00 but people kept hanging around not wanting to leave. Many of them were writing tributes to Omar on a black board. I realized that in some ways it was hard to leave since there was actually no closure to the evening. I took it upon myself to end the gathering and gracefully get people to leave so we could begin cleaning up. I asked for every one’s attention and introduced myself (for those who did not know me) as Barry the Community Minister who worked in the Firgrove community for several years. I explained that we will all miss Omar, he was a wonderful man and it is too bad that this tragedy has occurred. I explained that I knew Omar and that he painted the ministry office next door to the centre and that each day I look at the walls I will remember him. I said that we need to celebrate his life and keep his memory alive in our hearts and that I am assured that in the after life God had embraced Omar in his arms. We then took a moment of silence to remember Omar and ended in prayer.
After I had finished, Dominique crossed the floor and gave me another big hug, said thanks for what I did saying it was much needed and not many could have pulled it off the way I did. Many others approached me with gratitude with many of the guys giving me the “fist to fist tap” saying “respect”. People slowly dissipated and I was eventually able to help Angela and her family clean up by mopping the floor. As I turned the lights out around 12:30 and closed the door I said to myself “I work in a wonderful community and wondered why I was initially scared.” Instead, it was a sacred time.
Feb. 13th 2011.
Epilogue
After writing this story I found out that the wounds that Omar received were thought to be superficial and only needed a couple stitches to sew up. The Hospital wanted to keep him for observation but against their wishes he signed himself out - knowing Omar it was probably to protect his friend from further Police action. As it was though the knife actually nicked his heart and he bled internally after being released. What a tragedy upon tragedy.
Barry Rieder
