His mother was killed in a racist shooting in Buffalo. How he turned his grief into activism

Garnell Whitfield Jr.’s mother, had she not been shot and killed by a white supremacist a year ago, would be 87.

Whitfield, a man of unwavering faith, sees a powerful harmony in the fact that his mother Ruth Whitfield’s birthday this year would have fallen on Good Friday, April 7, for Christians like himself a day of death followed by rebirth.

Similarly, he sees the same harmony with the anniversary of May 14, the day his mother and nine other black people were murdered at the Tops supermarket: that day is also Mother’s Day.

“The real story is the resurrection (of Christ), and that’s my mother’s story,” Whitfield said in an interview this month at his Buffalo home. “It’s my mother’s story because my mother is bigger now than she ever was. My mother is larger than life. My mother has an influence and a power in death that she never had.”

After Ruth Whitfield’s murder, her family became vocal advocates for political and community change, particularly her son Garnell Whitfield Jr., a former Buffalo fire marshal. They are among the families of the 10 murdered people who are now trying to shed light on the societal and racial underpinnings of the killing.

And then there is the grief to overcome on the anniversary of the murders.

Activism in the wake of tragedy

Whitfield himself has addressed Congress on proposed gun control measures. He has protested with victims of other mass shootings. The Whitfield family organized a conference in April at the University at Buffalo that drew national social justice activists and focused on issues ranging from gun violence to the oppressive presence of white supremacy. Ruth Whitfield’s photo was prominently displayed at the conference, and her name was featured prominently in the conference title, “The Pursuit of Truth.”

“In the Jewish tradition, when someone dies, we say, ‘May their memory be a blessing,’” said Amy Spitalnick, an expert on online radicalization and a speaker at the conference. “The Whitfield family has certainly turned their grief into action and their mother’s memory into a blessing through their extraordinary activism and leadership. Last month’s conference is a model for the conversations and community partnerships we need to break the grip of violent white supremacy and extremism.”

Wherever he is, Garnell Whitfield Jr. said, his mother is by his side.

“She’s still with me,” he said. “My mother is still with me, just like our Lord Savior is still with me. My mother invested herself in me… I’m an extension of her.”

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Overcoming Pain

Despite suffering from relentless pain from back problems and other physical ailments, Ruth Whitfield soldiered on, often offering a listening ear and a heart to others in need.

For a decade, she visited her husband daily at a nearby nursing home where he resided. Her husband had suffered a head injury, was unable to speak and sometimes did not recognize those around him. She never missed a single visit.

This month, at the Tops where his mother was killed, Garnell Whitfield Jr. first met a supermarket manager who often confided in Ruth Whitfield about his personal struggles, and she always responded with a word of encouragement that gave him a boost. The manager had a similar conversation at Tops just 20 minutes before Ruth Whitfield was killed. Tearfully, he recounted the exchange to Garnell Whitfield Jr.

“What we find out is that my mother was much bigger than that, even though she was the most important thing in my life, she was much more important than that to other people,” Whitfield said.

Motivated by racism

Garnell Whitfield Jr. says it would be wrong to view Tops’ killer as a lone wolf whose crimes were isolated acts of violence. When discussing the shooter, Whitfield never mentions his name, instead referring to him as “the murderer” or “the culprit.”

Ruth Whitfield’s death is a tragic consequence of the racism that infected the 18-year-old shooter and drove him to target a supermarket in a predominantly black neighborhood in order to kill as many black people as possible. He drew inspiration from “replacement theory,” a once-fringe theory that there is a concerted effort to replace white people with people of color, including immigrants. By May 14, this belief had infiltrated the mainstream media, including with the support of former Fox commentator Tucker Carlson.

The Buffalo shooter found many like-minded people on social media and was encouraged and spurred on by others who shared his racism, Whitfield said. That racism, for Whitfield, cannot be separated from the country’s brutal enslavement of Black people, centuries of denial of basic human rights, communal discrimination and educational deprivation that have separated Black families from the generational wealth so common among the country’s white residents.

“All of these things are being manipulated … by white supremacists, people who don’t believe in justice, who don’t believe in fairness,” he said.

Ruth Whitfield made sure her family knew their heritage as black Americans.

“To those who don’t see us, how dare you not see us as Americans?” her son, Raymond Whitfield, said after the killings. “We stand in the blood, sweat and tears of our ancestors. She taught us to be proud of that fact.”

“She was definitely an African-American princess,” he said.

“A decisive moment”

Garnell Whitfield Jr., who also served as deputy commissioner of the state’s Division of Homeland Security, said he faced daily racism as he rose through the ranks of the Buffalo Fire Department.

“There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t deal with people, people who were under me…who didn’t feel that they had to answer to me just because I was black, for no other reason,” Whitfield said.

“George Floyd was a defining moment… in our lives, but for me, when I saw what happened, when I saw how he died, I think it was like an epiphany.”

When he watched the video of the Minneapolis police officer who murdered Floyd, a black man, by kneeling on his neck for nearly nine minutes, Whitfield said what he saw was much more than the asphyxiation of one man.

“That was the first time I understood what was wrong with me,” Whitfield said. “My whole life I had someone around my neck and I couldn’t take a deep breath. That’s what I feel — the weight of racism, discrimination, hate, I carry it, I carry it. I finally understood what I had felt my whole life when I saw him take his last breath.”

Yet, Whitfield said, her faith and the ever-present memories of her mother’s words and soul keep her going, with hope and a belief that change is possible.

“Ultimately, what matters is how you feel about me and how I feel about you. Do I see you as a human being, as a creation of God? Do I see you as a brother or sister to whom God has given the breath of life?

“We can have these conversations and I think change happens.”

This is what Ruth Whitfield believed, and it was the fibre of her strength, her constant decency and kindness. The abuser could not diminish this for those who loved her.

“My mother is gone physically, but spiritually she is still present, and I am grateful to God for that,” Garnell Whitfield Jr. said. “Even though it has been difficult, I talk to my mother every day.”

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This article originally appeared on USA TODAY NETWORK: Buffalo Tops shooting: Ruth Whitfield’s son turns to activism