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In the News Marcelo Lucero's Murder - A Reflection One Month Later

By Lisa Votino-Tarrant, Long Island WINS December 8, 2008 10:38 AM

"Perseverance is more prevailing than violence; and many things which cannot be overcome when they are together, yield themselves up when taken little by little." - Plutarch

It's hard to believe that it has been a month since the tragic murder of Marcelo Lucero. I have found myself the last four weeks being asked where I was when I heard about his death, much like the conversation so many New Yorkers have had about September 11th.

The truth is that I spend so much of my work week reading the news, that I try to avoid the news at all costs on the weekends....usually unsuccessfully. However, the weekend of November 8th, I had spent quality time with my husband and away from my computer and the tv. Late that Sunday night, I heard my cell phone ringing after 10pm, which was unusual for a Sunday night. When I answered it was my fellow-blogger Pat...poor guy didn't realize I didn't know yet and he was the bearer of very sad news.

My stomach sank. I threw-up, my worst fear being realized. An innocent man was murdered by a group of teens because of the color of his skin....in a community I love and have lived in....in an area I have walked dozens of times late at night and never felt unsafe. And then I felt sick again as I realized that my safety was ensured mostly because my skin color matched most of the young men who committed this dispicable crime.

That night and for two weeks after, my sleep was restless from endless nightmares.

On Tuesday, November 11th, I travelled to the scene of the murder where Joselo, Marcelo's brother, would be speaking at a press conference with the Reverend Alan Ramirez and a group called Hispanics Across America. A representative from the Euadorian Consulate was also present. And so were about forty news organizations with vans, videocameras, pads, pens and a hope to find an angle in the story that would set them apart from their competitors.

I watched Joselo Lucero. He had lost his brother in the most horrific way possible just three days earlier, and now he had to accept that he would have to mourn this terrible loss in a very public way.

My thoughts wandered to his mother, back home in Ecuador, powerless to protect her sons and the grief she must have felt. Hell probably doesn't even come close to describing what it must be like to lose a child and be seperated by half a continent, knowing that the first time you will see your eldest son in 16 years will be in a coffin.

I walked around the press conference to survey the scene a little more. I saw a trail of red paint running across the road where the murder happened. As my mind was trying to figure out what it was, my eyes followed where it came from. My eyes stopped....the red paint started in the parking lot where the press conference was being held and ended at the driveway of the house I stood in front of where Marcelo died.

The red paint traced Marcelo's last moments in this life.

After the press conference, I got in my car and just cried. At that moment I didn't see any light at the end of the tunnel....just the raw reality of hate.

The following day, Wednesday, I attended a press conference with many elected officials in front of the American Legion in Patchogue, just a block from the murder scene. While many of the officials there meant well, but after about the fifth speaker, the words just sort of all became the same. Looking back, maybe the issue wasn't them, it was the very limited amount of words that could even come close to describing how terrible this was.

There was one elected official there that I was interested in hearing from...Legislator Jack Eddington. He took to the microphone amongst a few boos from the audience. Legislator Eddington has been consistently in favor of legislation that many believe created an unwelcoming atmosphere in Suffolk County for immigrants and Latinos. His office was just down the block from where Marcelo was murdered. What I wanted to hear was "I'm sorry." What I heard was the following:

Meanwhile, at Long Island WINS, we were busy planning for the candlelight vigil on that Friday night. lawn signs were made with the words "Immigrants Welcomed Here" (We still have some, so let us know if you would like one) in memory of Marcelo.

Friday morning, there was what we now know was the first of many community dialogue events. This one was organized by the New York State Department of Human Rights and held at Temple Beth El in Patchogue. Legislator Eddington was in attendance and spoke for a minute before having to leave for another appointment. This infuriated some members of the audience and people began shouting at the legislator. Many pointed out that there was no other place that should be more important to be than there listening to them after such a horrific crime.

Once the audience and the Legislator settled down, Mr. Eddington had a chance to speak. The most poignant thing he says..."Most of you don't know Jack Eddington, most of you know pieces of legislation."

My thoughts - True. I don't know Jack Eddington. I do know the pieces of legislation he supported and introduced. And I do know how many times I stood at the podium at the Suffolk Legislature and warned that major violence against Latinos was on the horizon. I know I've never heard from Legislator Jack Eddington. (even after having the clerk at the Legislature hand every Legislator one of my business cards with my cell). I know that he has an office just down the block where this murder happened and claims that no one could see this coming, while we've spoken to dozens of Latinos who said that violence against them was widely known. All this leads me to believe that Legislator Eddington was either ignorant or intentionally avoiding what was happening just feet from his office and affecting a growing part of his constituency....either way, it makes me question how competent of an elected official he is. (Sorry Legislator Eddington, if you disagree you are more than welcome to share your perspective here....you have my card)

Meanwhile, Long Island WINS was getting ready for the candlight vigil which was just a few hours away.

Misty rain. That's the best way to describe the weather that night. It was like being in a mist tent....except you couldn't leave the tent. It was easy for people to come out when the weather was nice or tolerable, but this?

i parked in the train station parking lot. The police already had the street blocked off. As I walked over, I realized that there were already about 30 people standing by the memorial which had been erected in the days after Marcelo's death where he had his last moments. I started to put out the lawn signs. A train pulled into the station and large groups of people started to walk over. Kirby and Maryann started to pass out candles and I was busy lighting them. My wonderful and extremely supportive husband Tauk, was busy helping me and making sure I wasn't too cold or wet (he's so good). I was so overwhelmed by the hundreds of people who were now in the crowd, that I probably wouldn't have noticed if I was sopping wet.

As I hurriedly lit candles, I looked at the faces of the people passing me by - Latino, African-American, Native American, Asian, Caucasian, young, old, babies, handicapped, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist (only because they told me), wearing work clothes, wearing raincoats, from Patchogue, from the city, from Nassau, from Suffolk, on bikes, speaking many different languages, elected officials, people who can't stand elected officials, activists, Joe the plumbers, democrats, republicans, Ron-Paul-supporters (?!) - It was a truly amazing moment.

Later into the night, I was able to go onto the roof of the friend's house that Marcelo was on his way to when he was murdered, and look out at the crowd:

This was about two hours into the vigil and the crowd had become significantly smaller by this point. Amazing. As I looked out at the crowd, a feeling finally came back to me....a glimmer. There was a small light in the tunnel. Out of a great tragedy for not only Marcelo's family and friends, but for an entire community, there was a small glimmer of hope that we could always remember Marcelo and maybe, just maybe, be something better than we were the terrible night that Marcelo lost his life.

Since the night of the candlelight vigil we have seen small groups of people meeting all over Long Island. They're discussing race, how they can help, or just trying to get to know their neighbors better. We see organizations working together to help a community heal. We see adults educating each other about their cultures. We see children who look different holding hands.

Are things perfect? Is everyone singing Cumbaya? Of course not. But I have learned that I REALLY want to visit Ecuador (have you ever looked at pictures from there?!). I've learned to sit back and listen a little more....lot's of people are just looking to be heard.

But do you want to know what the most important thing I have seen is? As I walked in Patchogue yesterday while attending a community celebration of Ecuador's culture at the First Congregational Church on Main Street....people smiled at the people who walked by them instead of keeping their heads down. A rattled and wounded community, are again holding their head's up, knowing in their hearts that this has changed them forever.....and it might even be for the better.

I leave you with one more thought. A friend of mine a few weeks ago sent me a quote that I have looked at every morning and I thought I would share it with you:

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don't give up." -Anne Lamott

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