Father charged in killing of wife, daughter in Little Village as activists raise concerns about domestic violence

Karina Gonzalez, a mother of two, gathered all her strength to finally leave her husband just a few weeks ago after more than a decade of suffering alleged abuse, said Alicia Acevedo, a mental health advocate who recently met her and was helping the mother.

But on Sunday, Gonzalez returned to the family’s home in Little Village with her children, Acevedo said. And on Monday, her worst fears were realized. Shortly after midnight, her husband allegedly shot and killed Gonzalez, who just celebrated her 48th birthday, and their daughter Daniela Alvarez, 15. He also wounded his son, Emmanuel Alvarez, 18, authorities said.

Jose Alvarez, 67, was charged Tuesday with two counts of murder, one count of attempted murder, and one count of aggravated battery by discharging a firearm. Alvarez was arrested after his son called police and said his father had just shot him, according to a police report.

Responding officers found Alvarez standing in the living room of the family home at the 2600 block of South Millard Avenue and told police he was “defending himself,” the report said. Officers then found the “lifeless and bloody” bodies of Alvarez’s wife and 15-year-old daughter on the floor suffering from gunshot wounds, according to the report.

His daughter Daniela had a gunshot wound to the face and her mother had multiple gunshot wounds to the torso, authorities said.

The Cook County public defender’s office represented Alvarez in Wednesday’s hearing, but a spokeswoman said the family is looking for a private attorney and couldn’t comment further.

Emmanuel was the only one who survived after running out of the apartment while his father chased him, said Dolores Castañeda, a Little Village activist who is in touch with the family. He was taken to Mount Sinai Hospital in fair condition but has a leg wound and limited mobility, according to a GoFundMe page created by his family to raise money for funeral expenses and mental health services for Emmanuel.

Acevedo said the killings were sparked by an argument, but the family had endured domestic violence for more than a decade. Just last weekend, Gonzalez participated in a spiritual retreat where Gonzalez told her that she and her family lived under constant threats, with Alvarez even sleeping with the gun next to him.

The mother was broken and felt helpless, Acevedo recalled.

“Unfortunately, like most women in our communities who have abusive partners, she couldn’t find a way to break the cycle,” Acevedo said Wednesday as she stared into the makeshift memorial that she helped to erect. ”We’re devastated, but we will be Karina’s voice from now on and we will do our best to raise awareness and push other women to look for help.”

Acevedo, a mental health advocate, has worked independently through a group she calls Almas Nuevas, recruiting women that are experiencing mental health problems, substance abuse and domestic violence in Latino communities to build a network to empower each other. Gonzalez’s best friend connected the two and they had just started the process to uplift Gonzalez’s spirits, Acevedo said. The group of women was working to find support and resources for the mother.

Both children and mom were experiencing deep depression and mental health problems, said Acevedo, who referred Gonzalez to Mujeres Latinas en Acción, a not-for-profit organization that provides support for domestic violence victims in the Chicago area.

“She had taken the first step and he took it all away from her. I’m unsure why she went back,” Acevedo said.

Acevedo said the family’s tragic ending happens way too often with Black and brown families experiencing domestic violence. One in 3 Latinas will experience intimate partner violence in their lifetime, according to Esperanza United, an organization that aims to mobilize the community to end gender-based violence.

But few women speak up, Acevedo said.

Several barriers put women of color at greater risk and make it more difficult for them to leave their abusive partners, including immigration status, financial difficulties, lack of support, or even just lack of information on how and where to find support in Spanish.

Following the COVID-19 pandemic, over the past two years, the city experienced an increase in domestic violence. In 2021 calls to the Illinois Domestic Violence Hotline rose 9% as compared to 2020, and shootings related to domestic violence rose 64% in Chicago in 2021, according to a 2022 report from The Network, a research and advocacy organization on domestic violence prevention.

Castañeda, a longtime resident of the Little Village neighborhood, said that domestic violence has been vastly normalized in the Latino community, often masking it with traditions and rooted societal norms.

“It’s painful to see just how much families suffer in silence,” Castañeda said.

The oldest son, who witnessed his father kill his mother, carries “the worst pain of all,” she said. He is traumatized, trying to find a way to keep going, she said. Castaneda said she has been in touch with the family, which is raising money to bury Gonzalez and her daughter.

Alvarez appeared in court Wednesday for a hearing during which a Cook County judge ordered held him without bail until a bond hearing on Thursday. A public defender said Alvarez has “health issues” and asked the judge to allow him medical care, which was granted.

Acevedo urges the community to step up for those who they see experiencing domestic violence in silence. She plans to honor Gonzalez’s name by helping other women.

Que su muerte no sea en vano,” she said. “That their death is not in vain.”

She will remember the two, smiling behind their pain, and singing like they did during her birthday celebration on Saturday night, just days before they were killed.

The group of women that spent the last weekend with Gonzalez will meet outside her home Thursday night to host a vigil for the mother and daughter.

Chicago Tribune’s Madeline Buckley contributed.

Larodriguez@chicagotribune.com