To his grandmother, Amir Izeel Pinkney will always be a baby in some ways—his image forever one of unadulterated earnestness, unabashed kindness and squished bread.
A 3-year old Amir held the bread anytime the two went shopping. Looking up to his grandma, he’d grin ear to ear, his grip on the loaf tight and clammy with babyish excitement as he toddled through the aisles. And every time, the bread returned to his grandma’s bag was squashed.
But she couldn’t be mad at her constant companion. Together, they took on the likes of McDonald’s, errands to the grocery store or the bank, and drives to pick up this cousin or that nephew from school or practice. They rode the No. 75 bus for a treat from Mrs. Fields or, for a longer excursion, traveled to the beach in Atlantic City (he’d put sand down his swim shorts, his grandma would laugh).
“There wasn’t ever a time we didn’t share,” his grandmother, Linda Pinkney, said with a laugh. “Anything. Food or drinks. I’d have to say, ‘Leave my cup alone!’”
Though more independent in his teenage years, Amir still sat on his grandmother’s lap anytime he came to see her. On Mother’s Day, he bought cake and flowers with his own money, and for Christmas, he was known to give the kinds of things that took thought (a noted family favorite was the year he gave all the women perfume, the kind that smelled like flowers and summer evenings). He brought home bragging rights, too, as a starter on various football teams in the Philadelphia area.
“He was always a baby to me,” his grandmother reflects.
From the trips to Mrs. Fields to his carefully chosen Christmas gifts, Amir’s memory is one fixed in that eternally golden haze of childhood. This vision, though, is perhaps aided by the fact that he was just 19 when he died.
“He had a big head and a smile that took everything away, all your pain.”
His mother, Linda Pinkney-Vernon, a name partially inherited from her mother, affirms the sentiment: “He was the littlest person in the group, but the person with the most heart. If you needed him, he was there.”
According to his mother, too, even his final act was one of service.
Amir was riding his bike in West Philadelphia, on the way to help a friend when the trouble hit. Sometime around 3 p.m. on Oct. 15, 2015 at 52nd and Locust, Amir was shot in the leg. After a friend made a panicked call to the police, Amir was helped to the hospital, where he died shortly after.
If he was still here today, both his mother and grandmother believe he would be proud of how his family has managed since his death. His older sister, with whom he was close and who he had encouraged to go to college, graduated college just a few months after his passing. And his grandmother, who had been battling cancer at the time of Amir’s death, is now in remission.
“He had a power,” she says, “His hug took away all that pain and sorrow. I think he would have been proud that his grandma made it through that misery.”
To his mom, Amir had promised he would work hard so someday she wouldn’t have to. For Linda Vernon-Pinkney now, it is enough just to know that Amir was taking steps to overcome the growing pains he faced. Given the time, she knows he would have done what he set out to do.
“He didn’t get to live his life to see what it was about.”
She continues, “He loved his family. He loved the three of us [his mom, grandma, and sister] to death. At the end of the day, he was always just thinking of anything we needed.”
Amir’s life might be best summed up as one founded on and continually driven by love. Through any of the highs and lows that may have ruled his personal life, he made the time and effort to ensure he still cared for those he loved. He sent goodnight texts to his mom and sister, he saved up and bought thoughtful gifts, and gave hugs whose quality—tight, like he meant it—still live on in family reminiscences.
Though Amir’s life was cut short, his memory—his big head and smile that took everything away, his joy and selflessness—remain enshrined in the prayers of his grandmother, in the texts his mother and sister will never delete, and at the top of the rosters from football teams gone by. His family savors those last drops of the perfumes, and they feel his absence no less than they did when he passed 8 years ago.
“I still say goodnight to him in my prayers every night,” his grandmother says.
A reward of up to $20,000 if available to anyone that comes forward with information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the persons responsible for this murder. Anonymous calls can be submitted by calling the Citizens Crime Commission at 215-546-TIPS. Information can also be submitted to the Philadelphia Police Department online or by calling 215-686-TIPS.
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
