2020 was a particularly deadly year in Charlotte, nearly tying a record no one wants

The night before Cinquay Farrer was shot and killed, he did what he did every night: He went into his mother’s room to say goodnight and gave her a kiss.

Thirty years old and around 5-foot-2, Farrer was a tried-and-true “mama’s boy,” his mother, Jacqueline Lewis, said. That particular night, her youngest son also gave her a hug.

“Mom, I love you,” Lewis recalled him saying.

The next day, on Dec. 22 — three days before Christmas — Farrer was shot less than 100 feet from where he and his mother lived, Lewis said.

Police responded to a 911 call on Fairbrook Drive around 11 p.m. and found Farrer with a gunshot wound. Medic pronounced him dead at the scene. No arrests have been made.

Farrer died at the end of a particularly deadly year in Charlotte, which saw a near record 121 homicides last year.

Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Chief Johnny Jennings said while he expects that total to decrease as the district attorney’s office reviews cases and recategorizes some of them as justified homicides, the last time the city saw this many murders was in 1993, when it set the record with 122.

CMPD originally put the murder toll at 123 at the end of the year, but two cases later were reclassified as justifiable homicides. Similarly, 2019 finished the year with 107 homicides but that total shrunk to 103.

Since 1993, Charlotte’s population has more than doubled, but even when population growth is taken into account, 2020 was a historically bad year for murders.

Adjusting for the city’s population, Charlotte had 12.7 homicides per 100,000 people — the highest murder rate in over 20 years. The last time the city had a higher homicide rate was in 1999 at 13.7, when Charlotte saw 84 murders but had a smaller population.

The homicide rate is calculated by dividing the number of murders by the city’s actual population for that year. The rate takes population growth into account and is one way to measure how violence has changed over time.

The total number of killings in Charlotte has been on a steady rise since 2014 when the city had 44 murders — the lowest number in the past decade. Since then, the number of murders has increased by 10% or more each year except for 2018. The homicide rate has also more than doubled since 2014.

CMPD records show:

Nearly 80% of the victims were Black.

The vast majority of victims were men, and 60% — men and women — were 30 years old or younger.

Of the 121 cases, at least 102 people died from a gunshot wound and 10 people died from a stabbing.

64% of the cases have been cleared by an arrest.

Farrer’s death near his home on Dec. 22 was the second that night, and there were seven homicides that week, including 13-year-old Michelle Robles and 16-year-old Katherine Cruz — both of whom died on Christmas Eve.

Lewis, his mother, said from what she understood, Farrer had tried to stop a fight earlier that day and elbowed someone, who retaliated against him. Police believe the murder resulted from an argument, according to CMPD records.

“Cinquay wasn’t a saint. He did the things he did, but he would never harm nobody,” Lewis said.

Farrer had spent time in prison a few years ago and had just returned from a drug treatment program, she said. Public records show that Farrer pleaded guilty to robbery with a dangerous weapon in 2013 and was arrested on the same charge in 2018.

Recently, Farrer had been thinking about getting a job — maybe as an electrician — Lewis said.

He loved to watch foreign films and “The Color Purple” with his mother and had a personality that naturally attracted new friends, Lewis said. Above all, he loved spending time with his daughter, and her drawings hung in his room.

Cinquay Farrer was murdered on Dec. 22, 2020. His mother said he loved to watch foreign films and leaves behind two children.
Cinquay Farrer was murdered on Dec. 22, 2020. His mother said he loved to watch foreign films and leaves behind two children.

Victims advocates have said this year’s murders has had them working hard to support families while also trying to stay safe during a pandemic. City leaders have also decried the violence.

“It’s just really sad that we still have so much work to do (and) that we have people making choices in this way that harms people with guns or with knives,” Charlotte Mayor Vi Lyles said in a January meeting.

After 2019’s near record number of homicides, city and county officials categorized violent crime as a public health issue and are currently ushering in a violence interruption program for the Beatties Ford corridor.

“The number of homicides in our community ... was high and it is unacceptable,” City Council member Larken Egleston said in a January meeting.

CMPD officials, who have long said that police cannot be the only force in curbing crime, are in support of the city’s efforts and say that investigators find that minor disagreements often escalate into violence.

“There is an individual behind those statistics, there’s family members behind those statistics,” Jennings said in a press conference last year. “It’s very important that we don’t lose sight of that.”

The violence occurs at a particularly cruel time when the COVID-19 pandemic has forced funerals to become small private events or be held in sprawling outdoor spaces or halls. The bereaved are trying to grieve during a time when hugs are off limits and even therapy is held in virtual spaces.

Lewis said the mothers and families of the other victims have been in her thoughts. Farrer had two children, siblings and friends who all loved him, she said. Now, his 3-year-old daughter has been acting out, trying to make sense of her father’s death, she said.

“People don’t realize that when you go out and you take someone’s life, you destroy a whole bunch of people,” she said.

Grieving during a pandemic

For those who are used to comforting bereaved families with hugs and gatherings, 2020 has presented a new reality. Advocates, who work with families of homicide victims, have said they’ve had to find new ways to connect to families as killings have continued through the pandemic.

“It’s been — in a nut shell — a roller coaster,” said Mothers of Murdered Offspring organizer Genicia Hairston.

The group is used to holding support group meetings twice a month and candlelight vigils for families, whether it is in their own homes, on sidewalks or church parking lots. Now the support group is on hold and vigils only take place under the covered basketball court at Camp Greene Park.

There have been similar challenges for CMPD’s Victim Services Unit, where specialists help recently bereaved families navigate the paperwork of victim compensation, court dates and therapy, CMPD victim support specialist Migdalia Cortes said.

Before the pandemic, Cortes could be found at the scene with families in the immediate aftermath of a murder — whether that occurs on a holiday or in the middle of night. Often, Cortes said families will remember her as the first hug they received on the worse day of their life, and she tries not to be just another phone call.

To prevent the spread of coronavirus, CMPD’s support specialists no longer go to crime scenes, she said. For the first time, they are working normal 9-to-5 hours and introducing themselves to two or three family members at CMPD’s headquarters.

“We have learned that no matter what — as long as you offer concrete help and the family sees that you’re following through — that connection will be made,” Cortes said.

Hairston said she’s not sure whether the coronavirus pandemic is driving the violence, but it doesn’t help that people are out of work and children are stuck trying to go to school at home.

“I’ve never seen so many angry people,” Hairston said.

The sheer amount of deaths this year has gotten Hairston thinking about how her group can prevent violence before a murder brings the group to hold balloon releases and wear pins bearing the faces of the victims. She is thinking about checking on families that are facing domestic violence, more conflict resolution support groups and reaching out to parents

“I just really wish I could say ‘there were zero homicides this year,’” she said.

Cortes is hesitant to predict when life might return to normal and said she doesn’t know what to expect. However, whenever it is safe, she can’t wait once again to be called out of bed in odd hours on the weekend to meet with people having the worst day of their lives.

“If I can help a family have at least one positive thought on that day of (the death), then I’ve made an impact in their life,” she said.