After Violence Interrupts Progress, a Struggle Ensues in Denver
By DAN FROSCH
DENVER — When Terrance Roberts, a barrel-chested former leader of the Bloods street gang, campaigned against street violence here, his words carried weight. As a Blood, Mr. Roberts was once shot in the back, and he served time in prison for several felony convictions.
Over the last decade, however, he became one of Denver’s leading anti-gang advocates, using a group he founded to mentor children and forging relationships with public officials to draw resources to troubled neighborhoods tucked among this city of skiers and snowboarders.
But the violence that nearly swallowed him was never far off. On Sept. 20, as he was setting up a community rally in the Park Hill neighborhood where he worked, the police said Mr. Roberts, 37, got into a confrontation with another man, shooting him multiple times and leaving the man in critical condition.
Mr. Roberts, who expressed remorse about what happened, said that he had been surrounded by gang members and had feared for his life. Witnesses told the police that Mr. Roberts continued to shoot the man, Hasan Jones, 22, as he lay motionless on the ground. According to court documents, Mr. Roberts was arrested moments later, armed with a semiautomatic handgun. He was released on $100,000 bond and now faces charges of attempted murder and possession of a weapon by a felon.
The shooting has shaken lawmakers and police officers who have worked with Mr. Roberts in Denver, a city still shadowed by the gang-related killing of
Darrent Williams of the Denver Broncos in 2007, and the killing of a
policewoman at a jazz concert last year.
“We are all heartbroken about the situation,” said Mike Johnston, a state senator who worked with Mr. Roberts to transform the ruins of the Holly Square Shopping Center, burned down by Crips gang members in 2008, into basketball courts and a soccer field. “Terrance came here because he was deeply committed to making sure this neighborhood was a place for promise and possibility.”
Mr. Johnston shared an office with Mr. Roberts, who founded and ran the Prodigal Son Initiative, a mentoring organization. Mr. Roberts had pushed for a new Boys and Girls Club, and it was in the center’s parking lot that the shooting unfolded.
In an interview this week, Mr. Roberts, who said he was in hiding for fear of retaliation, said gang members threatened him in the months before the shooting.
His group had developed a cordial relationship with the police, which he said did not sit well with some in the neighborhood.
The police would not comment on the investigation, but on Friday, Chief Robert C. White praised Mr. Roberts’s organization in a statement. “We appreciate the great work that was done by Prodigal Son,” Chief White said. “And we appreciate all the of the work in the community that was done” by the group.
The evolution from gang member to activist was never an easy one. “I almost lost my life for Park Hill,” Mr. Roberts said. “I went to prison for Park Hill.” “I get out of jail and I wanted to make my community better,” he added. “But there were other people who didn’t want to hear it.”
After Officer Celena Hollis, who patrolled Park Hill, was shot and killed at the concert while trying to break up a fight between gang members, Mr. Roberts and other activists gathered at her police precinct to thank officers for their work and to diffuse tensions. That upset gang members, Mr. Roberts said.
Things got worse after an episode of a National Geographic Channel documentary about drugs in Colorado ran this month, in which he and others participated. Gang members were unhappy with how they were portrayed, he said.
According to Mr. Roberts, taunts became threats, shouted from outside his office or in phone calls, leading to his decision to carry a gun. That night, he said he was swarmed by Bloods members, including Mr. Jones, whom he had once counseled. In a police report, Mr. Roberts said Mr. Jones had drawn a knife.
The Rev. Leon Kelly, who helps parolees and was a mentor to Mr. Roberts when he got out of prison, said Mr. Roberts had spoken to him about the threats and the pressure of trying to change the neighborhood. “It was wearing on him,” he said. “It had got to the point where Terrance was not going to run. He was not going to allow what he had built to be taken away and threatened.”
Back in Park Hill, young men hung out in front of a convenience store. One said the neighborhood was divided on what happened. Some were angry at Mr. Roberts for bringing a gun to a peace rally and felt betrayed. Others, he said, felt Mr. Roberts had a right to defend himself.
Mr. Roberts pledged to return to the neighborhood, though he knows it may not be for years. For now, he said he remained haunted by the angry faces of people he hoped to help, screaming at him as a police car carried him away.
“I swept up the glass. I swept up the bullet shells. I swept up the people when I needed to. And sometimes they swept me up,” he said. “I hope I don’t get hurt when I go back. But I’m going to go back one day.”
