Tears of anguish still arrive for Trenton’s Jerry Eure, Sr [L.A. PARKER COLUMN]

Jim Valvano, a former men’s basketball coach at North Carolina State University, famously stated that people should laugh, think, and have their emotions moved to tears daily.

Valvano, rest in peace, said do all three during a 24–hour period and it’s a “heck of a day”.

I rarely cry. The observation and confession hardly earns personal identification as a tough guy. We are in Costa Rica. A gentle rain sends droplets of water onto a skylight. It is November 14th.  I am crying. A bed shirt sleeve wipes away the tears before they track into my ears.

Eighteen years to the day have passed since Trenton police officers pulled onto the 900 block of Edgewood Ave. to investigate a possible murder. One officer peered into the residence and witnessed a motionless man on the kitchen floor.

These unexpected but welcomed tears, objects d’heart, proof positive that some emotions and feelings exist despite being close to daily doses of human disaster in the city, fall for that deceased man inside 924 Edgewood Ave., Jerry Eure, Sr., 84, a wonderful husband, father, grandfather, and son.

Mr. Eure achieved academic success, at West Virginia State College, Rutgers University (batchelor’s degree) and the University of Pennsylvania (master’s degree). A list of civic awards and memberships include: Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc.; the Trenton Kiwanis; New Jersey Black Issues Convention; Coalition for Nuclear Disarmament; life member of NAACP; the Human and Civil Rights Commission of New Jersey; Mercer Street Friends Association; Mercer County Office on Aging; Democratic Party committeeman, and Outstanding Father of the Year awardee. Eure cultivated a religious and faith-based relationship at Covenant Baptist Church in Trenton.

An exemplary military career included a highly regarded World War II Victory Medal and another Good Conduct Medal, recognition of honorable and faithful service — no disciplinary infractions, no non-judicial punishments, no court-martial actions.

Eure enjoyed added life success as a member of the Tuskegee Airmen, the first African American military pilots in the U.S. Army Air Corps. Trained in Tuskegee, Alabama, some flew combat missions as bomber escorts during World War II while others worked on ground crews or served as mechanics.

Tuskegee Airmen faced systemic segregation and discrimination but persevered until U.S. officials opted for desegregation of the military in 1948.That was the guy dead inside the kitchen of the home on Edgewood Ave. on Nov. 14, 2007.

The investigation determined that on a rainy night before, 17-year-old cousins, Anthony Bethea and William Bethea, broke into the home. Anthony beat the Tuskegee Airman with his fists and a pipe. The attacker stabbed him repeatedly, then slashed his throat. The killer teens robbed Eure of $600, a laptop, and a cell phone. They drove off in his old Chevy Impala.

An interesting aspect of the murder involved the stolen phone. The killer cousins put the chip from Mr. Eure’s phone into one of theirs. Police, including Mercer County law enforcement officers. tracked the Betheas as they made telephone calls. Joseoh Santiago, police director, praised detectives and officers. He called it the best police work he had witnessed in 40 years of policing.

Trenton Mayor Douglas H. Palmer, Mercer County Executive Brian Hughes, and Mercer County Prosecutor Joseph Bocchini expressed grief and promised justice for Mr. Eure. Sherri Eure Washington, a daughter, thanked the police and community.

“We cant help but feel that these two young men’s selfish, heinous act took away the life of a wonderful, caring, and loving husband, father, grandfather, and brother. It is a sad commentary on the state of the world that something as senseless, stripping a good man of a fruitful life for nothing could happen,” she said.

Anthony Bethea received 50 years for his part in the heinous crime while a judge gave William Bethea 45 years behind bars. The William Bethea criminal history included 19 arrests — from the age of 9 to 17 — burglaries, assaults,  and a weapons offense.

Tears arrive during thoughts of Mr. Eure, a Tuskegee Airman under attack that night, being killed by Black boys, teens he had slipped a few dollars for cutting his grass or bringing in his trash containers. Trenton lost so much that day.

One can understand if Mr. Eure screamed or whispered verses from Psalm 22, share empathy with my tears.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from hearing me, so far from my cries of anguish?”

L.A. Parker is a Trentonian columnist. Find him on Twitter @LAParker6 or email him at [email protected].