Almost immediately after Gurley was shot, local and national outlets picked up the story and TV reporters stood in front of the crumbling development to ask questions about the practice of vertical patrols. Media outlets closely followed Ballinger as she identified his body, released doves with her daughters on the three-month anniversary of Gurley's death, and filed a $50 million wrongful death suit against the city. Photographs of his funeral appeared in multiple New York papers; the New York Times’ editorial board said Gurley’s death “shows why the Police Department needs to revise its weapons policy.”



As camera crews descended, the NYCHA scrambled. Repairmen showed up to fix the broken lobby door at 2724 Linden Blvd. — where Gurley was killed — but it had been broken for so long that few tenants actually had keys. A few weeks later, many were still forced to wait outside until someone exited. One hundred and forty-three lights were fixed in Pink Houses in the immediate aftermath of Gurley’s death.

Gurley’s family and friends are eagerly awaiting the trial against Liang, which begins Jan. 21. The Palmers, Ballinger, and members of the Krew hope Liang serves time. They want to see him in handcuffs; they want to know he’s lost something too. “Maybe I would believe it was an accident if he would’ve stopped to help. Look at my child! Touch him. See if he’s still alive,” Sylvia said, her voice rising. “They left my child right there like he’s nothing, like he’s dirt, trash. My child means something. His life matters.”

When I visited Ballinger this past fall, conversation eventually turned to Officer Peter Liang. She’s skeptical about the case, but remains hopeful. “We’ll see, we’ll see,” she said, looking exhausted. “Cops get away with everything.”

Liang’s attorneys are also hopeful about their client's chances. “It was a horrible, horrible tragedy, but this young police officer did not commit a crime,” as Koshetz,



Liang’s attorney, told BuzzFeed News, adding, “There's no dispute that this was an accidental shooting.” No matter the outcome of the criminal case, precedent suggests that the city may settle in Ballinger’s civil one.

Following Gurley’s death, the members of the Krew reconsidered their own futures. “We still here ’cause we adapted to the way of living over here,” Radon “Rah” Jones said. “I’m definitely looking for a way to get outta here, I’ll tell you that.” Several years ago, Rah became a public school security guard, “following the money” as he put it; the job was a stepping-stone to a better-paying city job as a police officer. Like cops, Rah wears a badge and carries handcuffs, but his shirt is light blue instead of navy, and he doesn’t have a gun. “I didn’t even want to go to work,” he said, of the days following Gurley’s death. “To put that shirt on with that badge and know that they killed my friend. It was so many mixed emotions. I can’t even explain it.” He doesn’t think he’ll try to become a police officer, after all: “I wouldn’t feel comfortable changing the color of my shirt right now.”

Redd moved to Texas with his girlfriend, largely because living in East New York had made him so paranoid. There were no lessons to be learned in East New York, no way to understand the violence that carried on and on. In interviews, members of the Krew offered ways they might be able to understand Bless’s death — if he’d been known to carry a gun, if he was violent or involved in a street gang. But he wasn’t like that; in fact, he was trying to move on from the streets altogether.

The anxiety followed Redd from East New York. “When I leave my house, I gotta look around, make sure nobody’s outside, even though I don’t have no problems or nothing. Even when I’m driving here in Texas, I'm looking to see if someone’s following me. It’s something that I'm so used to. I just can’t shake it,” he said over the phone. “I tell everybody, if you can survive in New York, you can survive anywhere.”

Redd has gone, some Krew members are locked up, but Gizz and YungStar and the rest are still in East New York, hanging out, chasing girls, making music. “Born here, raised here,” YungStar said, “Probably be here ’til the day I die.”