CHAPTER 1

Evil Existing alongside Good

As we go on with our daily lives, not really thinking aboutwhat might happen to change our normal mode of living, thecrime rate in cities around the nation continues to soar. There is nodispelling the various forces in our environment, seen and unseen,whether good or evil forces. However one might define the terms"good" and "evil," there's a consensus that they work in oppositionto each other. Ultimately, one must triumph over the other. If goodtriumphs over evil, then the end result generally will be favorablefor the greater good. In contrast, if evil triumphs over good, the endresult is damnable for all concerned.

Is there a drive within us that seeks to survive the evil in ourdepraved society? A depraved society is evidenced when theeruption of violent actions, immorality, and the loss of valuesdisregard the sanctity of life and other things that are in oppositionto the greater good of the Creator's plan. There is a compellingreason why we want to survive in this depraved society, as we willsee in the following pages of this book. It's apparent that the driveswithin us are constantly fighting for control. Eventually, through nofault of our own, the evil forces could take over unguarded territory.Survival, however, is necessary—and survival can be achieved inthis corrupt society.

We are witnesses to the fact that we live in an environmentwhere evil continues to proliferate to alarming levels. Is not thispresent society depraved? Merriam-Webster defines depravity as"marked by corruption or evil; especially: perverted." Each individualin this society must engage in a personal battle against evil in orderto survive. Evil is indeed a powerful force that drives many of theills that infect our society. The Bible mentions evil throughout itspages, warning readers to resist it. It does not pay to be impetuous."Test everything, regardless of how legitimate it might seem. Holdon to the good. Avoid every kind of evil" (1 Thessalonians 5:21–22,Bible version?).

Many question when or how these evil happenings will reacha conclusion. How do we make sense of so much violence andcriminal activity in our inner cities across America and even inthe world at large? We see a rise in these violent happenings. Is evilnecessary where civilized people exist? If so, what benefits does evilprovide within the hearts and minds of humankind?

It appears that many people are intrigued with evil intent, evenenjoying the results. Rick Bell wrote an article for his Interpulpitblog, titled "Media and the Manifestation of Evil," in which he posesthe question: "Are you fascinated with evil?" It appears that for alarge percentage of individuals, the answer to this question is yes.Many seem to be fascinated with evil, particularly as the evidencesof evil unfold with greater intensity today.

The ideal that evil is necessary for humans to exist actuallymakes sense in our society, as there is no way to get rid of it. Innercities, for example, are overwhelmed by evil. Consequently, sinceevil happenings are present and ongoing, we must acquire thestrategies needed to survive the evil of this world.

Evil happenings have occurred from times past to the present,but the evil persuasions of the past seem like child's play whencompared to the evils of today, such as a compilation of variousmurderous happenings in urban America. There are many reasonsfor these crimes, but there is one common thread—they're all drivenby the evil that men do.

One example is the murder of my only son, one who did notsurvive the hand of evil. Although the circumstances are difficultto relive, my objective for sharing his fate is to help other peoplewho have suffered such losses, to help them to endure the pain withgreater understanding.

The sighting of evil happenings in this country is not intendedto discredit any city or law enforcement agencies, but to study theroot causes of murderous and criminal incidences and examinewhat's behind them.

For example, an article in the Newark (New Jersey) Star Ledgerreported that an unidentified man was shot on a street corner andwas pronounced dead at University Hospital a short time later.

Another article reported on the death of a twenty-six-year-oldmale after he was shot on a street corner in Newark's North Ward.

Seven other people were shot in another incident, three ofthem fatally, in an explosion of violence in Newark. It was reportedthat the bloodshed was part of a wave of shootings and violentcarjackings.

These violent acts not only occur on the streets of Newark buton urban streets all over America and worldwide.

On December 31, 2010, the Star Ledger reported that a mannamed Dahundaqu Toler was charged with murder and weaponsoffenses in the shooting death of forty-six-year-old Bryant Evans.

Bryant Evans was my only son. He was an ordinary youngman who had a heart of gold. He cared for all around him and wasalways available when needed. This mild-mannered, unassumingspirit was indeed vulnerable in the harsh, inner-city environment.Somehow, he got caught in the unending battle between goodand evil. Evil prevailed. His life was snuffed out by a murderer'sbullets—one bullet to the head and another to the torso.

It was 2:30 a.m. when I received news that he had been shot in abar, a place that I believe to be the devil's territory, a place where evilabounds. On the morning of December 31, 2010, my son passedfrom life into death. My wife answered the phone and held it indismay, crying, "Bryant was shot!"

I became breathless. It had been only four and a halfdays—ninety-six hours; five thousand seven hundred sixtyminutes—since our last phone conversation. Shock waves, likespontaneous electric charges, now traveled though my psyche andmy body. I was stunned.

In this traumatic state, I superficially thought that Bryanthad been in the wrong place at the wrong time, thus giving riseto evil happenings. Those thoughts faded quickly when a senseof helplessness and hopelessness began to overpower my braincircuits. At the same time, the biology of the emotional father/sonconnection kicked in, revealing the intrinsic, mysterious bond.It was as if I was a part of his dying, as if I was dying at that verymoment. These are feelings that go far beyond what scientists canexplain. The irony is that my son and I never shared a father/soncloseness. Still, ordained by God, the father-and-son relationshipshould always be unshakable. Now, never again would I hear myson's voice, never again would he hear my voice or the voices ofthose he loved. I did not have the chance to say good-bye. Evil wasat the core; it was the centerpiece of his vicious murder.

I wondered about Bryant's consciousness during his lastmoments. What thoughts dwelled inside of him? Did he think aboutme? Was dying painful? Did he cry out to God? Did he make peacewith God? These were only a few of the thoughts that stirred in mymind on the terrible morning of his departure.

The days that followed were absolutely unbearable. First, I hadto go to the city morgue to identify my son's body. Because his deathwas a homicide, the case was under investigation, and that meantthat I could not view him in the flesh; I could see only a photographof his body. This disappointment added greater sorrow. It took overan hour before I saw the photograph of my son, taken by the crimelaboratory police at the University of Medicine and Dentistry ofNew Jersey's emergency room.

All of Bryant's personal belongings and clothes were held asevidence for investigative purposes. I moved from one thing tothe next in a dreamlike state. I wondered whether all of this was anightmare. I was told I had to contact a funeral home so that hisremains could be picked up once the autopsy was completed. Next,I had to plan the funeral arrangements.

Bryant's funeral service was held on January 5, 2011; the burialwould be the following day, which also was my birthday. On thisparticular year, my birthday would be remembered by my son'sdeath—a funeral for a father's birthday.

The service was held at Smith Memorial Church of God inChrist. Bryant had been raised and taught godly principles there,and he received Jesus as Lord and Savior there in his earlier years.I thought it was fitting to honor him with a church service. He hadattended this church, although not regularly. In fact, his appearanceat services was more typical of a hailstorm in summer. More oftenthan not, I think he came to see me and surprise me. It appearedthat he came with pure intentions, but he came especially when theweight of the world was too heavy a burden to carry alone.

As I continuously contemplated his tragic ending, I wasconscious of how distant Bryant had become from his churchupbringing. He had fallen prey to the worldly ways that often causeone to drift spiritually and move unprotected into the camp of evilpredators. Maybe this contributed to the tragic ending that was hisfate.

The attendance at my son's funeral was astounding—a steadystream of people from all walks of life. The outpouring of supportand sentiment overwhelmed and humbled me, as the churchoverflowed with people from all over Newark and surroundingareas. Coming to pay their last respects at the "homecoming" servicewere city and state officials, such as Newark's mayor, Cory Booker;Councilwoman Mildred Crump; and Councilman John Sowell ofIrvington. Among the noted clergy were Bishop William T. Cahoonand Bishop Norman Prescott, both leaders of the Church of God inChrist. Others were Bishop Jethro James of Paradise Baptist Church,a good friend who serves as president of the North Jersey BlackClergy Association's northern area, and my good friend ReverendJoe Carter from the New Hope Baptist Church, as well as manyother church leaders and bishops of various denominations. Such anarray of outstanding persons was a magnificent statement of caringtoward my family and me in our period of grief and mourning.Clearly, they were all affected by my son's senseless death. If onlyhe could have known that on this day, he was regarded as no lessimportant than any dignitary.

Our choir sang with the voices of angels, even though evil hadprevailed. The musicians imparted a spiritual feeling as if it camefrom David, playing his harp when he drove the evil spirits outof King Saul's palace. Assistant Pastor Craig McDaniel, of SmithMemorial Church of God in Christ, delivered a poignant andinspiring eulogy, titled, "Trouble, Trouble, and Trouble." I couldtell from the tears and expressions on listeners' faces that theywere quite moved. The benediction was given, along with notingthe burial time and place—the next morning, January 6, 2011 (mybirthday), at 10:00 in Fairmount Cemetery.

As I contemplated all of the questions of what, why, and when,my mind digressed to six months prior, when Bryant and I hadbreakfast together at the IHOP restaurant. Little did I know thatwould be our last breakfast together and that my world would moveout of its place.

It would be wonderful if only we could bring back the timebefore evil prevailed and won. I wanted God to take away the pain,and I begged, "Please, God, please take away this reality. There's myson, lying in his coffin, a lifeless corpse!" I did not want to believethat after all of my praying, the reality of evil would have the powerto give rise to murder, taking my son away forever. Surviving in anevil society requires much vigilance, fortitude, and attunement tothe environment.

I kept reliving our last phone conversation, four and a half daysbefore Bryant's murder. I was in a dreamlike state, in which I kepthearing Bryant's voice saying, "I got you, Dad. I got you!" Thosewords were part of our last conversation; it was filled with laughterand excitement about my upcoming birthday. I could not haveknown that evil would prevail, and my coming birthday would yieldthe "gift" of my son's grave.

He mentioned the gift he was bringing me during that phoneconversation. He would always have a card with money in it, and Iknew just about how much it would be. He would tell me to buy ameal. The amount never seemed to be enough to pay for my meal,but the thought was special. At the same time, his gift always wasgreatly appreciated; it was not the gift itself but the good intentions,the thoughtfulness that inspired his giving. If only I could exchangethe little gift he'd planned for me with the one I received ...

I treasured those little things he did for me. In his own way, myson tried hard to please. In some strange way, good people do helpto survive evil happenings.

After the mental and emotional distractions passed, Iconsciously faced the fact that Bryant was only a lifeless corpse now,without sensation or feelings to celebrate another birthday with hisfather or to give another Father's Day card. The promise he madeto me would never be fulfilled. Evil prevented him from survivingin this evil society. Now, his hazel eyes will never gaze upon me oranyone else again. There are only my memories of good times, goodthoughts, and his good deeds.

He was carried to his burial site, his final resting place, six feetdeep in the earth.

My experiences as a mental health counselor and clergymanhad equipped me to fortify myself, especially in the early days aftermy son's death. As the senior pastor at Smith Memorial Church ofGod in Christ, Newark, New Jersey, and a psychoanalyst pursuingcertification, I am aware that surviving evil is of paramountimportance, and it is connected to where we see ourselves spendingeternity.

For many years, much of my time was spent in pastoralcounseling and working with clients in psychoanalytic counseling.I was able to see firsthand the emotional problems and mentalstruggles of a diverse range of persons. I was always the one whocomforted those who were grieving. I counseled clients whosuffered from post-traumatic stress. Now I was the one totally out ofbalance, emotionally and physically, from the shock over the violentact that took my son's life. A friend of mine experienced the death ofa son in the same manner. Another church member also had a sonwho was killed violently. Still, that did not prepare me for sharingthis with them. It felt as though a ton of bricks had fallen on myhead, leaving it busted and bloodied, and I was powerless to lift offthe bricks. It was as if trillions of cells in my body were explodinguncontrollably. It was as if the nerve cells in my body were nolonger sending the correct signals and as if parts of my body wereout of place. It all felt strange and weird. I felt great sadness—and athirst for revenge.

I was in a state way beyond what used to be called "the blues." Ibecame a perfect candidate for a classification of clinical depression.I had all the symptoms of this disorder—mania, paranoia, insomnia,restlessness, regression, denial, anxiety, and guilt. I had a wall toclimb to get to a place of healing. Then my question to myself was,"Will I ever heal? How long will it take for this to be over?"

The mind is a place of wonder, mysterious in its way of storingup reactions and responses to things that are painful or too difficultto deal with. But mixed in with the chaos of my thoughts was thelegitimate fear that my son's murderer might never be caught andthat justice would not be served. These doubts were almost toomuch to bear. After all, I did not lose a son because he went offto war, fighting for his country. The battleground was his ownneighborhood; that's where evil struck him down.

I decided to write this book for several reasons. I hope thatany person who has experienced the tragic murder of a child willbe comforted and feel less alone. This book is the result of myexperiencing the effects of violent crime, and that creates a bondamong those who grieve. I do not know whether or not the parentsof offspring who have died because of street violence will connectwith my emotions and thoughts, but my story is an attempt tolessen the pain that haunts us.

Many parents in this nation share the loss of children who werekilled by violent means. As of this writing, the most recent viciouskilling rooted in evil was the Boston Marathon bombing on April15, 2013, which claimed lives of five people and injured nearlythree hundred others. I can relate personally to the grieving andfeelings of impotence in those who mourn the loss of their lovedones. I extend empathy and sympathy to them, praying for hope forthem as well. I hope my words serve as inspiration to those whoseexperience the great loss of their loved ones.

My writing this book is also meant to recognize the value of thelife of my murdered son, Bryant, and others who share the samefate. He is gone, but he will never be forgotten. In this manner, anordinary man with a sense of morals and values, who possessed finequalities—gentleness, kindness, selflessness, and readiness to helpothers more so than himself—is compassionately acknowledged.Because Bryant had such a nonconfrontational, nonaggressiveside to his personality, he was extremely vulnerable to evil-drivenpeople.