As we mourn mass shooting victims, thousands of stories go untold
Priya Patel has been held up six times, three at gunpoint, in her family-owned liquor store in Irvington since her husband was murdered there three years ago.
"It doesn't scare me anymore," said the 28-year-old widow. "I loved my husband so much. I've lost so much already, so losing my life doesn't scare me."
She said this last week, one day before the Florida high school shooting. The day after, Feb. 15, would be the anniversary of her husband's murder.
Amit Patel was one of 13,286 people across the country shot and killed in 2015. That was the year of the Islamic terror attack in San Bernardino, which left 14 people dead, and the racist shooting at the Charleston, S.C., black church, which killed nine people. Nearly forgotten in the "hate and race" sensational narratives of those two stories was the shooting at Oregon's Umpqua Community College, which also left nine people dead.
If you noticed the repeated use of the word "people" in that paragraph, it was purposeful. Those of us in the media should start attaching it to the numbers.
The Last Vegas shooting in October didn't leave "59 dead."
It left 59 people dead. And 59 broken families.
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The Second Amendment was designed to protect us from government but, in its modern application, it prevents government from protecting us.
As the names and faces of the latest mass killing victims scroll on our TV sets, and circular political debate over gun violence and gun rights rages on, the individual deaths of people like Amit Patel get lost in the "thoughts and prayers" refrain.
They are not acknowledged by news teams or politicians, not honored by prayer vigils or other public memorials.
Who cries for the Amit Patels of our country, except those closest to them? Those thousands upon thousands of people, shot and killed in the commission of robberies, domestic violence and other altercations, or just randomly murdered during reckless drive-by gunfire, where anyone close to the intended target is at risk.
Amit Patel, 28, fell into the category of "witness intimidation."
He was alone behind the counter of the Roseway liquor store on Halloween night, 2013, when a man wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans, a black skull cap and a face covering, came in and held him up at gunpoint.
Patel handed over the cash: a $50 bill, 13 tens, and some singles.
According to court records, the robber left the liquor store, ran into an alley, stripped himself of the black hoodie with skull graphic on the back, skullcap and mask. He also left the gun, a silver Smith & Wesson .38, used in the hold up.
After Patel was robbed, he called 911 and Irvington police responded within minutes.
Officers saw a man fitting the description of the gunman, coming out of an alley. He was a curious sight, now wearing only a tank top and blue jeans, despite the rainy night with temperatures in the 40s.
Patel was taken to the area to ID the suspect, but he told police he wasn't sure if it was the same man who had robbed him. Later, however, he identified the clothing and gun that police had recovered in the alley.
The robber, identified as Rick King, still held the exact amount and denomination of bills Patel described as being taken. Subsequent DNA tests on the abandoned clothing matched King.
King was arrested and sent to the Essex County Correctional Facility, where he spent 10 months until released on $120,000 bail. As his trial for the robbery neared, King used his freedom to eventually go back to the liquor store and execute Amit Patel. He forced the defenseless man to the floor and shot him in the head.
In the past week, we've learned much about the angry, armed young man who killed 17 of his classmates. We wonder why Nikolas Cruz was able to get a high-powered weapon. We ask why law enforcement didn't notice the pitch of his violent messages on social media.
Rick King, on the other hand, lived his life in the criminal justice spotlight. His adult record dates to 2002. His first "unlawful possession of a weapon" charge came in 2003, the second a year later. Two more followed in 2004, one in 2006, another in 2008, and the arrest in 2013 for the robbery. That's seven. And he was convicted of four.
His juvenile record, under state law, is sealed but two law enforcement sources said it was extensive.
So, while we ask how a crazed teenager, at 19, was able to purchase a high-powered rifle, we should equally ask how career criminals, such as Rick King, get their hands on so many guns, one after another, leading to the deaths of people, such as Amit Patel, who are as innocent as those 17 kids in Parkland, Fla.
Priya Patel, 28, is trying to sell the store. Her father-in-law, who helped run the store, is back in India, ailing after the death of his son. She, too, will return to India, broken-hearted. Her American Dream is over, destroyed by American violence. Just like the dreams of 17 sets of parents today in Florida.
"I wish we had children," she said. "Then at least I would have something to remember him by."
The Patel family tragedy is compounded by this irony: Priya Patel said her husband had not been asked to testify against King. Police had enough evidence to convict him without his testimony.
For King's murder trial, the evidence included video of him walking to the store, firing the shot, leaving the store and ditching his clothes. His cellphone also had multiple searches for "Amit Patel," before and after the killing.
In December, he was found guilty and, two weeks ago, sentenced to life in prison, without parole. While the impulse is to say, "finally," it is still too late for Amit Patel.
Mark Di Ionno may be reached at mdiionno@starledger.com. Follow The Star-Ledger on Twitter @StarLedger and find us on Facebook.