Gun Victims’ Shoes Tell Grim Story of Rising Toll

The little black baseball cleats belonged to 7-year-old Evan Foster. He was shot twice in the head after signing up for a basketball league in Inglewood’s Darby Park.

The strappy sandals with chunky heels belonged to Chloe Baker. The 18-year-old was gunned down in her car this June, the night the Lakers won the championship.

The new pink satin ballet slippers with wings on the heels belonged to Lori Gonzalez, granddaughter of Los Angeles Police Chief Bernard C. Parks. The 20-year-old was hoping to start dance classes, but was shot to death before the first lesson.

Commemorating the lives of their loved ones, more than 300 pairs of shoes were presented by family members and assembled Saturday at St. James Episcopal Church in a silent but powerful protest against gun violence.

The empty shoes stood as a haunting reminder of death and its emotional toll. They filled up the stage in the parish hall--all sizes, shapes and colors. Some well-worn, others like new. Pumps, sneakers, platform sandals, cowboy boots and a red wagon full of tiny baby shoes, once worn by teenagers, mothers, men and women from many walks of life. Nestled among them was a tiny pair of white patent leather baby shoes.

Some people had attached notes and photos to the shoes. One note inside a pair of black pumps said, “I was your mother.”

Parks, whose granddaughter was killed May 28, joined his wife, Bobbie, at the event, adding Lori’s dance shoes to the display. Parks spoke of his personal loss and called on government officials to pass stricter legislation to eliminate gun violence.

“We know that 80% of homicides are caused by guns. So when people tell you that guns don’t kill, that’s not the truth,” Parks said after a news conference in the parish hall. “It’s always easier to talk about statistics philosophically or from a distance. But, when the numbers come out for the year 2000, we’ll always know, one of those was Lori.”

The “Silent March” of shoes was organized partly by a Brooklyn-based gun control advocacy group of the same name. Founded in 1994, Silent March collects and displays shoes to illustrate how many people are killed by guns every year. Women Against Gun Violence, the national group that staged the Million Mom March on Mother’s Day, also assisted in planning the Los Angeles event.

Ellen Freudenheim, executive director of Silent March, said the 300 pairs of shoes represented the number of youths killed each month in the U.S. She added that an estimated 12,000 more youths would be killed by the next presidential election if action is not taken.

Bobbie Parks said her granddaughter’s death had prompted her to become an activist in the fight for gun control. In the months since the funeral, she and Lori’s mother, Felicia Parks-Mena, have spent much of their time consoling victims’ families.

“We all know these things happen. But when I was sitting at the burial and saw that headstone, I thought, ‘There is so much I should be doing,’ ” she said. “Until these children stop killing each other, things are not going to be right.”

Bobbie Parks added that the Silent March held special significance for her.

“Lori had a thing for shoes,” she said with a laugh. “She had close to a hundred pairs in my house alone. She loved them.”

Rep. Xavier Becerra (D-Los Angeles), whose district includes St. James Church, and the Rt. Rev. J. Jon Bruno, bishop coadjutor of the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles, also attended.

For families of the victims, placing the shoes on display was like slicing open an old wound they thought was healed. But several family members, including Ruett Foster, said they felt obligated to attend. His 7-year-old son, Evan, was killed by gang gunfire in the back seat of the family car.

“Unless people can see something tangible, they don’t know these are real lives and real blood and that lives are being destroyed,” said Foster.

Christina Foley, whose niece Chloe was killed during the Lakers championship celebration, broke down in tears when she added a pair of black sandals to the display.

“I hope,” Foley said, “the person who pulled the trigger would feel something and put themselves in those shoes.”