While the cameras were fixated on kneeling football players over the weekend, the Newark Anti-Violence Coalition was planning its part in Monday's "National Day of Remembrance" for murder victims. Early that evening, while the national media was still kicking around the Trump vs. NFL political football, about 30 people gathered at the corner of Clinton Avenue and Stratford Place...
While the cameras were fixated on kneeling football players over the weekend, the Newark Anti-Violence Coalition was planning its part in Monday's "National Day of Remembrance" for murder victims.
Early that evening, while the national media was still kicking around the Trump vs. NFL political football, about 30 people gathered at the corner of Clinton Avenue and Stratford Place in Newark to remember several recent murder victims.
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They carried signs that said "Stop the Violence" and "Stop the Killing" and displayed posters of murdered loved ones. They handed out balloons to anyone who wanted to join. Organizers and family members of victims spoke through a portable public address system that echoed down the block all the way to Avon Avenue.
"In discussion about the 'Black Lives Matter' movement, there's a myth that black people don't protest against black-on-black crime,'" said Larry Hamm, founder of the People's Organization for Progress and a participant in Monday night's event. "Well, we do. It just doesn't get the attention."
That's because, let's face it, race-baiting sells. Kneeling football players, ragtag white supremacists, protests over police shootings, the Trump tweets that incite both love and hate for him - all of it feeds our news-as-drama culture.
But peaceful protests by black people about violence in black neighborhoods have no black vs. white flash point, so in our world today, that's not news. Not in a world where the media exploits our differences rather than explores our similarities and stokes resentment, and even violence, on both sides of the ball.
In this case, the president inflated the ball, the NFL and its players lined up on the other side of it, and the media responded with overkill coverage. The public response went from sideline to sideline -- from either outrage against or support for either side, to "who cares?"
So while hundreds of cameras zeroed on who would or would not "take a knee" for the National Anthem on Monday Night Football, the Newark Anti-Violence Coalition was taking a knee for Annie King, Eric "Uggie" Bowens, Deborah Burton and Gregory Thomas.
The coalition was formed in 2009, after a running gun battle near Weequahic Park left Nakisha Allen dead. She was on her way to get milk for her children and was the third person to die on that July day.
Since then, the coalition has gathered nearly every week at the site of a recent murder, through blizzards, rainstorms and 100-degree heat. They've taken a knee, figuratively, for more than 500 murder victims. You can count the times their rallies have been covered on one hand.
While a debate about the free speech rights of football players went round and round and round, the Newark activists and the families of victims talked about a more fundamental right. The right to live.
Annie King made the best of that right until her murder. She was the embodiment of the American Dream. She and her late husband, Charles, an Army veteran of the Korean War, raised four children in Newark, preaching education and faith the whole way.
One son is a research scientist; another is a helicopter pilot for the Newark police. Her daughter became a psychologist. Her other son is Mustafa El-Amin, a retired Newark teacher and the resident imam at Masjid Ibrahim mosque on Chancellor Avenue.
"Her focus was education - to get as much education as you can," El-Amin said.
And she lived what she preached. She went from housekeeper to teacher to teacher with a master's degree, which she received from Kean University when she was 65. She bought a house in the Weequahic section that she once cleaned.
She was a longtime parishioner at the Gethsemane Church of God in Christ in the Weequahic section, and was active in its outreach ministries as well as the community service of her son's mosque.
"She was the epitome of love, righteousness and justice," said LaTonya King-Gray, King's only daughter. "She lived by 'do unto to others.' "
Annie King died on July 31, two weeks after being beaten by a man "she tried to help" by giving him work as a handyman, El-Amin said.
"Whatever he wanted, she probably would have given him if he just asked," El-Amin said. "For her to die like that, at 85 years old, in her own home, being brutalized like that ... I can't even think about it. If people like her aren't safe, no one is. If we've lost that much respect for life, I don't know what to say."
The same could be said for the murder Eric "Uggie" Bowens, 44, a man who danced along the streets of Newark with a boom box.
He was found shot on a Newark street last November.
"This guy was a gentle soul," said Bashir Akinyele, a co-founder of the coalition. "He never hurt anybody. Why would somebody shoot him? What was it, just for sport? It's terrible, man."
Burton, a 63-year-old grandmother from Maplewood, was shot in Newark after dropping her son off at work.
Tamika Darden-Thomas, a professional singer and community activist, was at the rally with a picture of her father, Greg Thomas, who was killed in 1981.
She took the microphone at the event and said, "If black lives don't matter to us, how are they going to matter to anyone else."
The right to protest is the right to be heard. The NFL protestors get the coverage but these street corner activists are crying out, too. Is anybody listening?
Mark Di Ionno may be reached at mdiionno@starledger.com. Follow The Star-Ledger on Twitter @StarLedger and find us on Facebook.