How gun violence is destroying lives in Toronto

“It would be out there and it would have been in there when we got it,” she said.

For Parkes and her six adult children, celebrating Christmas this year felt impossible. It’s their first year without Delroy – better known as George – Parkes after the 61-year-old was killed in a mass shooting at an Etobicoke high school this summer.

George is among 43 people who have lost their lives to gun violence in Toronto so far in 2024. While the death toll is comparable to previous years, the total number of shootings in the city is higher than it has been since 2020 – with 442 reports of shootings or “firearm discharges” occurring in mid-December, according to Toronto police.

The rise in youth crime is particularly worrying, observers say, pointing out that 13 teenagers have been charged with murder so far this year – up from just three in 2023.

The shooting devastated families and communities in Toronto, but its reverberations reached even further, in one case halfway across the world.

Over the summer, a series of deadly shootings involving young people – both perpetrators and victims – left many embarrassed. One of them was Ajay Simpson, a 20-year-old who was shot outside an apartment building while he was with his baby.

Months later, as families like Simpson’s try to make sense of gun violence, they refuse to let their loved ones forget.

Here are some of their stories:

“Everything is still where he left it”

On a warm Sunday evening in early June, Delroy “George” Parkes and a group of men were playing dominoes in the parking lot behind North Albion Collegiate Institute after a soccer game. Shortly before 11 p.m., gunmen pulled up in a vehicle and fired more than 50 bullets in their direction, killing George and seriously wounding four others. George’s long-time friend “Dappa” – Seymour Gibbs, 46 – died in hospital less than three days later.

A 14-year-old boy has been charged with first-degree murder and seven counts of attempted murder as police continue their search for two more suspects. The boy is one of the 13 young people who have been charged with manslaughter or murder so far this year – there were three the year before.

“Everything has changed,” Heather said. “This boy took our world, threw it up in the air and said, ‘Deal with it.'”

Heather, who lives in the GTA, avoids coming into the city because she no longer feels safe. She constantly messages her youngest children, ages 19 and 23, to find out their exact schedules. As Heather walked through the mall recently, she said she asked herself, “How many people here have guns?”

“It takes all the peace out of you,” she said. “Any sense of security outside is gone.”

At home, the most mundane tasks were daunting without George, she said. “Who takes out the trash? If something breaks, who will fix it? Who will put up the Christmas tree?”

Heather said that at this time of year, George would prance around the house in his Santa hat, bake oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies, and enforce the “no music except Christmas music after November 1st” rule.

George loved the holidays just as much – if not more – than Heather and her children. It’s a bit ironic, she says, because he grew up in a culture that didn’t celebrate the holiday that way.

Her six children teased Heather about her love of the holidays, treating her like a fever or a bug she had caught. And George? “He got it bad,” she giggled. “Worse than us.”

It was said that George kept the family traditions alive. The most important of these: driving around the neighborhood looking for the houses with the best Christmas lights, preferably to the sound of George’s favorite song – “Driving Home for Christmas” by Chris Rea. CL: Cut for space reasons?

Heather said she hasn’t touched his things since his death. “Everything is still where he left it.”

She can’t bring herself to enter the garage. “Because it’s the garage,” she said. His tools and football stuff – he was a big Arsenal FC fan – are all there.

However, there are a few things she and the kids were able to get out before his birthday on December 19th and Christmas Day: his stocking that said “Ho!” Ho! Ho!” depicted in red letters and a homemade wooden ornament recently made in his memory.

The wooden ornament is printed with his photo and a quote that says, “Your wings were ready, but our hearts were not.”

“We have to stop killing each other”

On a brisk, rainy afternoon in mid-December, on what would have been Ajay Simpson’s 21st birthday, friends and family gathered at the spot where the young father was fatally shot.

Judith Stewart, a family friend, stood on a picnic table and said a prayer to a crowd of 20 people, all clad in hoodies made in Simpson’s memory. She then sang “Happy Birthday.”

“If black lives really matter,” Stewart told a Star reporter, “do we have to stop killing each other?”

Where is the outrage, she asked – six months after Simpson was allegedly shot by a 14-year-old boy.

“I have seen so many mothers who have lost their children to gun violence on the streets,” Stewart said.

“We go to the funeral, bury her and move on. It’s not normal. It should never be normal.”

Just before midnight on June 24, Simpson was gathering with friends and his baby near a playground outside a North York apartment building when four suspects drove up in an SUV, got out and fired several shots in their direction. Simpson, the only one hit, died in hospital.

His mother, Natoya Harriott, said she was angry when she thought about his final moments of life. As his friends told her, everyone ran away when the shots rang out. “He was there alone,” she said.

Harriott, who already looks after her nine-year-old daughter, is now raising Simpson’s eight-month-old baby with the little girl’s mother.

“The boy has his eyes and his smile,” Harriott said, lifting the blanket from the stroller to reveal her little face, padded by a pink bonnet and fluffy blankets.

“I think she’s going to be a track star,” Harriott said, as opposed to a basketball player like her father.

Raising the children wasn’t easy, she admits. There are nights when Simpson’s nine-year-old sister wakes up and screams for him. When Harriott looks at his baby, he finds it difficult to imagine him growing up without his father.

“It’s hard,” she said, adding that her sense of security has been shattered.

“I don’t go out that much. I don’t do my hair. I’m not doing anything.”

She sighs as she thinks about Christmas getting closer and closer. Every year, Simpson bought gifts for his younger sister, from dolls to slime to crayons.

“He spoiled her,” Harriott said.

“That’s why I know he would have been a good father.”

“A lot of discomfort”

Dickson Boakye always knew that at some point in his life he would have to bury his father. The 18-year-old simply never thought this day would come so soon – and because of a gun.

On a winter afternoon in February, three months after moving to Canada, 40-year-old Adu Boakye was fatally shot in a bus stop in North York as he was on his way to send money to his wife and four children back home in Ghana. He was hit by three bullets and died in hospital.

The day before, a 16-year-old boy was shot dead in the same area as he waited for a bus on his way to a volleyball game. The teenager suffered life-changing injuries.

The fact that Adu’s life ended with a gun “has caused great discomfort to our family,” Dickson said in an interview.

“It wasn’t easy saying goodbye at all,” said Dickson, the eldest of four boys ages 2, 7 and 12.

Boadi, Adu’s wife, said that if he were still here he would play soccer with the children, help them with their homework and cook delicious meals. (Fufu with chicken soup was her favorite.)

He would also prepare gifts for the holidays.

“The anticipation of Christmas now makes me sad and makes me miss my husband a lot,” Boadi said in a message exchange that was translated into English.

For Dickson, he has shifted his focus entirely to family.

“I have to work hard to help my mother take care of the children,” he said.

With files from Jason Miller