Broncos' Murder Creates Lessons For Change
Published Jan. 14, 2007
Like most Coloradans my kids were devastated at the recent shooting death of Bronco’s player
Darrent Williams. They followed the news with rapt attention as they kept asking, “Why did it
happen?”
As the police uncover motives and suspects, as family members wrestle with unimaginable pain,
and as friends and fellow players grieve his death, theories abound. My own theory is this: wrong
place, wrong time.
It’s a surprisingly simple one, I know, but a powerful theory nonetheless. Hanging with the wrong
crowd is a dangerous thing – whether it’s teenage girls who decide to try cigarettes and shoplifting,
or frat boys who drink themselves into oblivion so they can post their exploits on myspace Monday
morning. The company we keep speaks volumes about who we are and how we view ourselves.
Despite the possibility of gang connections, Darrent Williams’s family has continually said that he
was not involved in gangs, and I believe them. He was working to improve the lives of kids in his
hometown and his adopted city. By all accounts, he was a good father and involved in his kids’
lives.
Darrent Williams didn’t want to be in a gang. Growing up, he credited coaches, ministers and
mothers with keeping him out of gangs and off the streets. But he admitted being tempted – by
what: notoriety? fame? brotherhood? – and he continued to befriend gang members.
He may not have been in the wrong crowd, but he lingered dangerously close to it. He was on the
fringe, insiders have said.
Think about that. Fringe is something you sew on a poncho, not a way to describe your
connection with gangs. And unless you cut it off completely, it will always be attached, hanging on,
trying to look good. Being on the fringe is like being kind of pregnant. You either are or you aren’t.
You’re in or you’re out. You’re attached or you stand apart.
The question is, how willing are you to stand apart from the crowd and do what’s right?
Today’s culture celebrates trash-talking hip-hop and violent videos. Many kids think nothing of
watching a movie or music video that degrades and brutalizes people. And, sure, our parents
hated the lyrics to our songs, too, but can we really surround ourselves with such an outpouring of
hatred and revenge and not be affected just a little bit? How much brutality piped into our i-pods is
enough?
The sad reality is that the filmmakers and musicians who dole out these sexist, cruel images are
simply expressing themselves and a side of life that, thankfully, I have been spared. Many adults
can’t identify with the themes, but plenty of kids sure can because they’re living it everyday.
The suspects connected with the investigation into Williams’ murder had pitiful childhoods at
best. Williams himself grew up in an area of Fort Worth referred to as Murder Worth.
Who do we blame for young people showing such a lack of conscience and remorse – the kids?
Or the parents who failed to raise them at all? Parents who failed to love their children enough to
give them a curfew. Dads who never cared enough to ask where their young teens were going
after dark. Single mothers and grandmothers who worked three jobs to support a houseful of kids
but who forgot to teach them the importance of family and values. Parents who didn’t bother
steering their kids in any direction, much less guiding them away from the wrong crowd.
Wrong place. Wrong time.
There are many victims in the Darrent Williams murder. Perhaps parents can learn lessons from
both the murdered and the murderer. Only then we can we answer our children when they ask,
“Why did it happen?”