The problem was, Devontay Williams had just been shot – for the third time. And that really made him mad.

He and four others had been hit in one of this year’s “mass shootings,” marking the third gunshot wound Williams has suffered in his 22 years of life.

That’s enough to make anyone angry, isn’t it? But Williams’ coach wasn’t buying it – and his mentors weren’t either.

That scene played out at Boxing Out Negativity, headquartered in a makeshift West Side boxing gym. The program’s founder, Coach Derek Brown, says boxing can provide “sneak discipline” and lure Chicago’s toughest youths away from deadly violence and into the gym.

Out front, the hearses line up, one after another, ready for the slow ride to the cemetery.

Inside, there is no joy in the voice of proprietor Spencer Leak Sr. when he says his establishment has become a “barometer” for murder.

His father founded the Leak & Sons Funeral Home back in 1933. It wasn’t the same back then. But now the business routinely buries one or two homicide victims a week – and Leak observes the tragedy up close.

Welcome Friends

Twelve years ago I wrote a story for The Atlantic magazine about a Chicago funeral home that buried scores of young homicide victims that year.

Not much has changed. The Leak & Sons Funeral Home buried another “100 or more” homicide victims in 2020, says funeral director Spencer Leak Jr. – and this year the pace continues.

Before that Atlantic article, for years I was a crime reporter for the Chicago Tribune and I’ve seen a lot of funerals. I’m talking about funerals of the too-soon dead. The dead from unnatural causes. The way-too-young-to-die dead.

Eventually I transferred to other Tribune beats and ended up covering war-time killing in the Middle East and Bosnia. By now you might say I’m an expert on violence, at least compared to the average person. You could also say I’ve had enough of it.

Think of it this way: Human beings can build buildings a hundred stories high, fly into outer space, and split the atom. And yet we put up with this? This parade of violent death, this constant heartbreak, the ongoing fear and pain?

Yes, it’s complex and difficult and will take a huge effort, but I believe our city’s high murder rate and low homicide clearance rates are SOLVABLE PROBLEMS.

So welcome, friends, to Stop the Violence Chicago.

Please join us!

Send us your ideas, your stories and the work you’re doing by submitting here.

We welcome input from all Chicago organizations tackling violence, from university researchers, community activists, outreach workers, and cops on the street.

We want to hear from survivors, witnesses and even perpetrators – anyone with real insight into violent crime.

Let’s examine what works and what doesn’t, and make a collective decision that what happens to one of us concerns ALL of us.

We can do it, Chicago! Let’s stop the violence.

Research has shown that violent criminals often come from violent backgrounds, where they’ve experienced child abuse, domestic violence or other trauma. Meanwhile, inferior public schools and pervasive poverty plague Chicago’s most violent neighborhoods.

But why do some residents succeed despite it all?

How do some escape the cycles of violence, while so many others stay trapped?

These are questions I want to explore in this series. Many Chicagoans are tackling these huge issues, using a variety of approaches. Some might work and some might not – but at least they’re trying.