On the Anniversary of Xavier McCord Murder, A Mourning Family Reflects on A Case Full of Irony



Access and Loyola

By Michael Romain

MAYWOOD, FRIDAY–“I’m saddened and I’m mad,” said the father of 20-year-old Xavier Oneal McCord, who was killed on November 8, 2012, exactly a year ago. McCord’s father, who requested to go by the name Osz, was standing outside of the Maywood police station, expressing his pain to a hurting crowd of about a dozen onlookers keeping vigil. Most of those gathered knew McCord intimately–his mother, siblings, close friends.

That they decided to gather on the corner of 5th and Oak Street, right in front of the police station, was no mere coincidence. McCord’s murder at the hands of a Maywood police officer is still shrouded in a tangled web of mystery, speculation and hearsay. Their presence seemed to be as much a demonstration of protest and complaint as of pain.

According to an official account of the murder given to the Chicago Sun-Times, police responded to an unspecified call at an apartment building in the 1800 block of South 19th Avenue.

“An officer arriving at the scene saw McCord outside the building and attempted to question him, but he ran toward the back of the building, [former Village spokesman Larry] Shapiro said. The officer chased and followed him as he entered the building from a back entrance.

“Inside the building, the officer noticed McCord had a gun and ordered him to drop it. The man then raised the gun toward the officer, who shot him once in the chest […]”

McCord was later pronounced dead at Loyola Hospital at 4:55 pm.

The official version of events, however, doesn’t satisfy McCord’s friends and family members. According to Osz, friends of McCord who were present with him that day insist that he was unarmed. Another family member, who insisted on anonymity, said that the police department’s account of the murder conflicts with the results of the autopsy and the funeral director’s report–both of which suggest that McCord was shot multiple times.

But more pertinent to McCord’s parents, the version of events presented in the media aren’t consistent with the young man they knew from birth. Osz admitted that McCord had his share of issues (“Xavier was your typical black brother”), but he also said, “My son respected the law.”

“He never disrespected our house, which is why it’s hard to understand him going out like that–he was loving; loved by his friends, his brothers…He had just graduated high school. He played football. He loved sports,” said Osz.

One moment in particular that McCord’s father described to illustrate his son’s respect for the law seems, in retrospect, an eery foreshadowing. It involved the television show “Cops.”

“My wife said she and my son looked at ‘Cops’ a lot […] [While watching the show one day], Xavier told his younger brother, ‘Don’t you ever pull out a gun on a police, because they’re prepared to shoot back.'” When asked whether this actually happened, McCord’s younger brother verified the account.

Darrion Orr, one of McCord’s best friends, said that the two were planning on going to school together. “We always shared with each other,” Orr said. “He was real open-hearted.”

McCord’s mother, Erica Williams, said that the case, now being investigated by the State Police, is ongoing. But she knows that there are certain mysteries that may well remain unresolved. McCord’s murder doesn’t vibe with the personality of the young man she said, “Was a hard worker who always wanted to help people.”

This is a case of ironies as thick as a November night is frigid. While remembering his son, Osz had another story.

“One time, Xavier and his friends were passing this old lady who was out raking her leaves. Xavier stopped and helper her out. The lady said he had a good aura about him. Her daughter was a police officer.”

Bill Hampton, whose brother Fred was famously assassinated by Chicago police officers in 1969, stood in the middle of the small crowd lit with electric candles and connected McCord’s death with a much larger travesty that is national in scope.

“I know we have to keep uniting like this […] We have to make the police respect us,” he said before sounding a litany of headlines he’d heard about recently. “Just a week ago, a black man in North Carolina was shot 21 times […]”

The killings, said Phyllis Duncan, President of Mothers of Murdered Sons (MOMS), are so prevalent that the kids “can almost count them on their hands.”

“We must allow our children to live,” said Billy Fowlkes, a minister who was invited to pray at the vigil. “When you run across a child, let him know that you love him.”

“It’s nothing for our children to do but get involved in violence,” said Fowlkes as he pointed to the 200 Building across the street and the recently reopened library to the North, indicting the whole society for McCord’s death–suggesting that this one tragedy is much bigger than troubled young men or the police.

And in times that are short on ready-made solutions, music fill the void. Duncan handed out the lyrics to Boyz 2 Men’s “How do I say Goodbye” and struck the first note. Osz, out of sync with the crowd, said to someone standing next to him, “I don’t know how many times we’re going to sing this song.” VFP



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One thought on “On the Anniversary of Xavier McCord Murder, A Mourning Family Reflects on A Case Full of Irony

  1. we as parents should not have to bury our children,brothers and sisters should grow up knowing each other not wondering who they where and why they are gone.

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