Stop Snitchin’

"People will initially talk," Parnell says, "until they realize that those involved are close to family members. Akron is a small place . . . This is not a random thing. It happens often. The no-snitching rule is taught every day, even by parents. They fear for their children's safety. They'll tell them not to say anything, knowing that these gangs will jump on sons, cousins, brothers."

In 2005, Christopher Harris, a 23-year-old college student, was killed in a shopping-center parking lot after getting caught in crossfire caused by a beef over a woman. Witnesses refused to come forward after being threatened by friends of his killer, 19-year-old Anthony Norman.

"His people were walking around in 'Free Norman' T-shirts," says Lieutenant David Whiddon. "We were only able to prosecute that case because we found video footage of the incident."

Unfortunately, there was no tape of Shawrica Lester's murder. Though Feaster acknowledged firing a weapon that night, the gun he turned over to police naturally didn't match the bullets found in Shawrica's body.

By March, V-Not's drumbeat of threats forced police to move Sandra Lester to a new residence. But the offensive had been successful. Of the dozens of initial witnesses, only two were now willing to testify. Judge Teodosio restricted access to Feaster's hearings. She also refused to reveal the witnesses' names to Feaster's lawyer.

"This was definitely the worst case of witness intimidation I've ever seen," Parnell says.

But when Feaster finally appeared in court on April 18, the witnesses were absent. Scared for their lives, both skipped town. V-Not had gotten to them. "These gangs have a very good network of communication," Parnell says.

Prosecutors were forced to offer Feaster a plea. In exchange for testimony against other V-Not suspects, he pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter.

Judge Teodosio suspended a 13-year adult sentence. Instead, Feaster would serve only four years in juvenile detention, unless he committed another felony during incarceration.

When the verdict was announced, Sandra Lester fled the courtroom in tears.

By May, Summit County had charged five more V-Not members with Shawrica's death, including 15-year-old Earl Davis, 16-year-old Lloyd Burnside, and 17-year-old Ricardo Travis. Eyewitnesses identified the three as shooters outside The Cage that night.

It was devastating news for Sandra. After all, her children had grown up with the boys.

Sandra's oldest daughter, Kenya, was once such good friends with Travis that she referred to him as her cousin. He was a quiet kid, obsessed with basketball and football. After Kenya changed schools, she didn't see Travis for several years. Then one day she ran into him in the street. She hardly recognized him, his lanky frame enveloped in designer XXL clothing. "He was completely changed," Kenya says. "His attitude, his style. He'd just started running with the wrong kids. The streets got him."

The same went for Burnside. Sandra had lived close to his mother, Jennifer. He'd always been a focused and obedient child. When Sandra heard he was hanging around the V-Nots, she was shocked. "It just wasn't him," she says. "He was a star athlete. He had promise."

But the most painful part was the arrest of Earl Davis. Sandra had grown up with his father, Earl Sr. They'd known each other since fourth grade, and she'd become close friends with his wife, Misty Rogers. When the family discovered that Davis was hanging out with V-Not members, they tried to send him to relatives out of state. But it was no use.

"Earl's dad went to prison for drugs," Sandra says. "But he really is a good man. And I believe that if he was around, [Earl Jr.] wouldn't have gotten so deep into all this."

Davis' and Burnside's mothers were equally shocked by their sons' arrests and immediately came to their defense. "My son was in the wrong place at the wrong time," said Jennifer Burnside. She claimed that Akron's perception of gangs was wrong, that "V-Not" and "Hilltopper" simply referred to one's neighborhood, not a criminal group.

Misty Rogers was more disingenuous, quickly falling into the default position of racism, claiming that police were willing to charge any black kid from the wrong neighborhood.

"She was talking all about how the system was Willie Lynch," Sandra says. "You want to talk about Willie Lynch? This has nothing to do with no racism. This is black-on-black crime, woman."