After bloody stretch, south Minneapolis' Whittier neighborhood leads city in gun violence

First came the barrage of bullets. Then, moments later, a series of frantic text messages.

Children who have grown all too accustomed to gunfire in this south Minneapolis neighborhood sought comfort from a mentor as they peered down their balconies at two bloodied men on the concrete below.

"Why is this happening?" a 12-year-old boy asked, after sharing graphic videos of the homicide scene.

That Aug. 31 shooting on the 2900 block of Grand Avenue S. killed a 27-year-old Ethiopian immigrant and seriously wounded his brother. Kadar Jibril trekked to America last year in search of a better life — only to be gunned down while walking home from the barbershop, three blocks from the café where he worked.

Whittier, a diverse South Side enclave home to some of the city's most vibrant cultural corridors, has weathered historic levels of violence this year. It now leads all other Minneapolis neighborhoods in total gunshot victims with 27, supplanting those in both the North Side and neighboring Phillips community that typically record the most shootings.

Eight shootings have proved fatal this year. That's a significant jump from just one homicide in 2019. Although the number of gunshot victims has steadily increased in Whittier over the past five years, neighbors are confounded about what's driving the change.

Amid growing safety concerns, some residents have barred their children from playing outside alone after dusk and fear them walking even short distances to school.

"They don't have the freedom of a kid in the suburbs," said Mohamed Jama, director of Youth Legacy, a teen mentorship program based out of Karmel Mall off Lake Street.

Jama has peppered city officials with requests for additional street lighting, surveillance cameras and police patrols in south Whittier between 26th and W. Lake streets, which has become a major hot spot for gun violence and robberies. No such aid was ever provided, he said.

In recent weeks, Jama took matters into his own hands by organizing Saturday outreach walks, where teens and community members volunteer to clean up garbage and used needles scattered along the street. The group is also seeking de-escalation training so they can help police the area themselves, in the absence of a robust law enforcement presence from the Minneapolis Police Department.

"It's outrageous how much we've been neglected," Jama said, noting that neighboring LynLake feels like a "completely different world" with its functioning street lights. "Where's the resources for us?"

Shifting crime trends

Whittier is a densely populated, walkable neighborhood located 1 mile south of downtown, best known for its bustling commercial districts, including the restaurant-dotted stretch of Nicollet Avenue dubbed "Eat Street."

This multicultural community – bordered by Franklin Avenue, Interstate 35W, Lyndale Avenue S. and Lake Street – has long appealed to renters and foreign-born residents, and is among the largest Minneapolis neighborhoods by population. Historically, public safety concerns here were limited to nuisance and property crimes rather than gun violence.

But in recent years, shootings have surged in Whittier, even as North Side communities – which have long been plagued with the city's highest rates of gunfire – experienced an extended reprieve, and the city's overall trends have flattened.

The May 30 shootings on Blaisdell Avenue that killed Minneapolis police officer Jamal Mitchell and two other victims and left others injured inflated Whittier's record death toll. At least seven homicide victims this year have been Black or Somali residents.

"It's more dangerous now than it ever was before," said Kevin King, founder of Advanced Security and Protection, a small security firm serving south Minneapolis businesses.

King relocated from north Minneapolis to the South Side seven years ago seeking to escape the constant pops of gunfire. Now he's considering moving back.

From his regular post at Eat Street Crossing, a popular Nicollet Avenue food hall, King can hear volleys of ammunition after dark and subsequent chatter on the police scanner. "I'm at the point where I think the North Side is safer," he said.

Basim Sabri, owner of Karmel Mall, said he has spent an estimated $100,000 in the past month updating surveillance cameras and security equipment inside the massive complex of East African shops and restaurants. But even when his 24/7 security detail catches someone in the midst of illegal activity, it takes a long time for the depleted police force to respond.

Sabri pointed to an incident on Sept. 2, when an unknown gunman blasted at least 22 rounds toward an apartment building he owns on Pleasant Avenue S., kitty-corner from the mall, shattering the glass entrance. One bullet pierced the living room wall of a third-floor tenant while her 12-year-old daughter was watching TV, according to the police report. Miraculously, no one was injured.

Officers from the Fifth Precinct arrived minutes after the first 911 call, records show, but claimed not to find any evidence of a shooting. A squad returned several hours later to collect the discharged shell casings.

"It's aggravating," Sabri said, "because we, the residents and business owners, are stuck in the middle with a lack of services and police protection."

Many community members, including Sabri, blame the area's growing homeless population for contributing to the uptick in crime — and castigate city leaders for failing to address the issue.

In May, police responded to a suspected overdose in an alley across from Karmel Mall, but found a 27-year-old man with a fatal gunshot wound to the chest. Investigators believe the victim was staying at a nearby homeless encampment on Blaisdell Avenue — the same camp city workers had planned to close that day. Two men were later charged with second-degree murder in the case.

Minneapolis police analysts estimate that 22% of all shootings in the neighboring Third Precinct this year have occurred within 500 feet of an encampment.

"There's no reason to suspect that it would be different on the other side of [Interstate 35W]," Police Chief Brian O'Hara said in an interview.

Police are also tracking an increase in activity of youth cliques, whose members frequently flash weapons in social media videos filmed in and around Karmel Mall, he said.

"There are definitely kids from outside towns that are coming in and causing problems down there," O'Hara said, adding that some teens specifically target immigrants who "they think are more likely to have cash on them and less likely to call cops."

Robberies increase

Compared with last year, Minneapolis has recorded about 130 more strong-arm robberies involving threats or force, with a quarter of that increase occurring in Whittier, inciting fears about remaining on the street after dark.

Ukasha Dakane often weighs the risk of staying late at his Karmel Mall office, knowing that after 8 p.m. his wife will start to worry, and text asking for constant updates.

Tenants generally feel safe inside the complex, where security officers constantly patrol the grounds. "But the moment you walk outside, you don't know what your fate will be," said Dakane, founder of the Fortune Relief and Youth Empowerment Organization (FRAYEO), a local nonprofit that caters to the East African community.

A few months ago, Dakane's sister, a shopkeeper in the mall, was robbed of her jewelry and $400 in cash by two young men while walking home on Nicollet Avenue. The situation became so common earlier this summer that business owners organized walking groups so women wouldn't have to travel alone.

Those who are targeted often don't bother filing a formal police report, he said, because of the perception no one will ever be held accountable. Victims are given a case number and frequently receive no follow-up from authorities.

"What will they do about it?" Dakane said. "It's a waste of time."

O'Hara acknowledged that understaffing remains a chronic issue at MPD, but urged residents to report such crimes so they can better track the problem. The department launched a "South Side React" team earlier this year to proactively address rising crime, he said, and has seen some success with its new robbery protocol, which redeploys resources and pauses all other service calls to thwart robbery sprees in a specific area.

Police officials sought to expand ShotSpotter, the city's acoustic gunshot detection system, this summer to broader swaths of south Minneapolis experiencing surges in gun violence, but were forced to roll back the coverage plan over concerns by members of the City Council's progressive wing, who have expressed skepticism about its ability to curb gun violence. The more limited expansion does not stretch into south Whittier, O'Hara noted, or the nearby hot spot of 19th and Nicollet, where police have seen much spillover.

"I don't feel safe in my own frickin' neighborhood," said Chris Sonnesyn, 59, a longtime Whittier resident who was assaulted in July. When Sonnesyn, an independent contractor, discovered that a homeless man had broken into a client's apartment and caused $500 in damage, he offered the man a job rather than calling police.

To Sonnesyn's surprise, the man showed up for work the next day and spent several hours mowing lawns. But as Sonnesyn went to the garage to grab him a soda, the man pulled a rope from his backpack and attempted to strangle Sonnesyn.

"I was fighting for my life," he recalled from his front porch, just a few hundred yards from where the latest homicide occurred. He showed a photo of his neck, circled by a bright red burn mark, he provided to police.

'That's why I get in the mud'

Many are devoted to turning the situation around.

Lydia Marie Moses founded a street outreach business in 2011 as a way to give back. She roves the Whittier neighborhood in a black BMW, frequently stopping to speak with the city's most vulnerable residents as part of 1Love 1Mission Humanitarian Movement.

"What's going on, my man?" she called to an older gentleman hunched on a nearby bench, wearing socks but no shoes. "You need some water?"

The 60-year-old jumped from her vehicle and popped the trunk, ambling over to pass the man a Solo cup of water and a powdered doughnut. "You are important and you are loved," she hollered out the window before heading to an encampment on Stevens Avenue between 29th and Lake Street.

Moses – sometimes called "Commander" – greets the unhoused population warmly, doling out ice for their coolers and snacks from a bag of pastries. She ushers people out of the street, worried that passing motorists might hit them, and offers resources for those seeking drug treatment or more permanent housing. It pains her to see her community suffer; she holds out hope for a long-term solution to the crisis.

"Everyone is afraid to come to Minneapolis anymore," she said. "It pisses me off. This is a great city – that's why I get in the mud."