Epidemic of gun violence must stop

Two scenes in Chicago: Children playing basketball in a schoolyard suddenly scatter. Because it begins to rain or was time to go home? Yes, in most neighborhoods that’s why children run with purpose. In parts of Chicago, children run from gunfire. They kn

Kanari Gentry Bowers, 12 years old, is in a West Englewood elementary schoolyard with classmates early Saturday evening when they hear shots. Kanari knows to duck, her uncle says, but the kids scatter. Kanari is struck in the head by a bullet.

A half-hour later, members of a family sit in a parked minivan while running an early Saturday evening errand. Nothing could be less remarkable. But it’s the Parkway Gardens neighborhood. There is gunfire. The mom in the vehicle asks: Is everyone OK? There is no answer from 11-year-old Takiya Holmes in the back seat. She’s been hit in the head by a bullet.

Two preteen girls shot in the head in Chicago on a Saturday evening, 4 miles apart in South Side neighborhoods. The horror isn’t easy to process. How does this happen? What are the odds? But there is no simple explanation, no pattern behind the coincidence of these separate tragedies. There is, however, an epidemic of gun violence in Chicago neighborhoods that fells victims of every age.

The numbers: Last year was the city’s bloodiest year for violence in two decades. Chicago had 762 homicides and 4,367 shootings. Of those shot, 76 were children younger than 15 — three of them fatally — according to Tribune data. This year, so far, shootings are up 8 percent and homicides down 20 percent; nine children younger than 15 have been shot.

Much of the city’s gun violence in neighborhoods on the South and West sides traces to gangs and drugs. There are feuds, fights over territory or, we suppose, other motives. Mostly there is indifference to life and the safety of others. Shooters take aim or spray a target zone while on foot or in a vehicle. Anyone within blocks, outside or inside, risks being caught in the crossfire or struck by a stray bullet.

As we write, Kanari and Takiya remain in critical condition and police have no one in custody. The girls’ families, shocked, sickened, each took time to speak out, with grace and defiance, about the terrible toll of violence not just on their lives but on their communities.

“Kids can’t even play in a school playground,” Djuan Donald, Kanari’s uncle, said. “That was my ‘moo moo.’ That’s what we called each other . ... She didn’t deserve none of this. I want some answers. Please stop; put down these guns. Ya’ll are taking our lives from us. And it hurts. Over a piece of street that doesn’t belong to you? Ya’ll fighting over squads, cliques and gangs?”

And this from Patsy Holmes, Takiya’s grandmother, according to the SunTimes: “This has got to stop. These babies are dying, and for what? They was just shooting at someone and that vehicle just happened to catch one of the bullets. We all have to come together as a city and make sure we get this under control because this is getting out of hand.”

They are right about what happened to Kanari and Takiya. And they are right about Chicago. This has got to stop.