Two years after his death, Darell Richards’ family tries to heal — and waits for answers

Editor’s note: This story is part an ongoing series of journalism produced as part a collaboration between The Sacramento Bee, Sol Collective and other community organizations called the “Community to Newsroom Pipeline.” To learn more or to contribute, email us at voices@sacbee.com.

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We only hear about their deaths. The seconds, minutes or hours leading up to it; details rehashed in articles to be used as reference. Their names become hashtags and protest chants. Their faces put on candles and sweatshirts in memorial.

Yet we rarely hear about their lives.

Who they were. Who they were trying to become.

Who the community lost.

We never get to read about the love they put into the world or the joy they brought to those around them.

On the two-year anniversary of Darell Richards’ death, we choose instead to honor his life. One that was taken far too soon from this world.

“He was a hugger. He hugged everyone. His siblings, his grandparents. Everyone. And he loved everyone. He would always check on everyone.”

It’s two years later, but you can still feel the pain in Christine Vang’s words as she reminisces about her son, Darell. With each sentence, the power of a mother’s loss punctuates every syllable, her love the only thing strong enough to permeate the hurt.

Darell was Christine’s oldest son and he took on the role of older brother and protector to his younger siblings beautifully. Making sure that they knew what chores they were supposed to be doing. Ensuring that they got their homework done, even while he worked on his own. Playing games with them, and just sitting to talk with them so they knew they were important.

Being the protector came naturally to him, and he slid into the role easily. It was that inherent protector spirit that led Darell to want to join the military. He had for a while, according to Christine.

“It hit him in his senior year of high school. We lived close to Cosumnes River College so after class he would always go to the recruiters office to talk to them, or he was at the library doing research of what was required to join,” she said. “What he would have to expect.”

It was that research – the Army-provided folders full of paperwork for enlistment, the research Darell had printed out at the libraries – that were found in his backpack on Sept. 6, 2018, the day Darell Richards was killed by Sacramento police in a Curtis Park backyard. He was 19.

Despite Darell’s desire to join the armed forces, Christine was hesitant. The country was already hitting a tumultuous point and she worried for him. As any mother would. “I just wanted him to go to college, to get a job locally. I didn’t want him going away ... but he was taken from us. Now it’s not him going away to school or the military. These killer cops took him away from us, and our family is forever broken.”

The night Darell died has left his family with so much hurt, and with a lot of questions. Why was the body camera of the police officer who had the only angle on the shooting turned off? Why was the “suicide by cop” note the police claimed to find in Darell’s backpack, actually a homework assignment?

Those questions have hung in the air, unanswered, for two years.

The answers may never come.

HEALING IN A TIME OF TRAUMA

While Darell’s family continues to fight for some form of justice for their son, they find peace in remembering the good times. The laughter, and the love. The stories that remind them of the happiness and joy Darell brought to their lives.

“The kids and I always talk about the story of when we all went to Bodega Bay,” his mother said. “This seagull came out of nowhere and pooped right on Darell’s face. He was upset at first. But we couldn’t help it. His siblings, his girlfriend, myself – we were all laughing. So he couldn’t help it. He started laughing too, and as he’s laughing he just keeps saying, ‘It’s not funny, it stinks!’ But it didn’t matter. All of us were laughing. I miss him. His sense of humor, even in times like that.”

His sense of humor was a big part of who he was. It made his way into the lyrics he wrote. Into the moments he shared. It was his humor that his mother started to see change in the months before his death.

Darell’s outgoing personality began to change and he started to isolate himself. Where he would normally be playing basketball everyday at Shasta Park in Elk Grove, he started spending more time in his room. Something in his mental health had shifted.

“I remember one incident,” Christine said. “We were in the kitchen together, and I was busy washing the dishes. Darell kept looking over at me, more than a few times. Finally he said, ‘Mom, what did you say?’ and I just looked at him and told him I didn’t say anything. His dad and siblings had a couple incidents like that with him as well.”

Auditory hallucinations, or the experience of hearing a voice or voices when no one is around, are fairly common experiences. According to mentalhealth.org, research estimates that around 10% of the population experiences auditory hallucinations.

While there isn’t one singular source that explains the cause, studies have shown there are certain experiences that can spark and intensify them – traumatic life experiences, worries and stresses piling up. They could also be the result of a deeper mental health diagnosis such as bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. Darell’s mother had scheduled him for a mental health evaluation before his death. A diagnosis just didn’t come in time, leaving more questions unanswered.

What we do know is that six months before Darell was killed, Stephon Clark was killed in an extremely similar fashion. He was shot in a backyard (his own), after being followed (or some would say hunted) through a neighborhood after reports of someone doing something suspicious nearby.

The death of Stephon Clark triggered a trauma response throughout Black and Brown communities in the Sacramento area. More and more mothers began to fear for their children as they left the house. Children began to fear for their lives. It’s a phenomenon known as “anticipatory race related stress,” according to Dr. Shawn Utsey, professor of Psychology at Virginia Commons University.

“You haven’t had the experience, but you anticipate it happening, and you are stressed off of that fact alone,” Utsey said.

In Sacramento in 2018, anticipatory race related stress was reaching a peak, which only grew after Darell’s life was taken.

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

While the community attempts to heal from these events, Darell Richards’ family must attempt that much harder, much longer, much more intensely because so many questions remain.

“I just want to know why,” his mother said. “Why they felt the need to end his life that night. He wasn’t a bad kid. He wasn’t ‘troubled.’ He was 19, fresh out of high school, and still trying to figure out what he wanted to be in his life. We’ve all been there in some way, and some of us were fortunate enough to not develop mental health issues during that time. It wasn’t his choice to be struggling through it.”

With statistics indicating that one in five teenagers suffer through some form of mental health issue, her statement rings true. Many of our children will suffer through some form of mental health crisis. With today’s state of affairs, those numbers may even find themselves increasing more than we anticipate. That remains yet another floating question that may not be answered.

In the meantime, the question of who Darell Richards was is one that his mother wants to make sure doesn’t float unresolved.

“I want the world to know who Darell was,” she said. “Not how they tried to portray him. He was a caring, kind person. Someone who loved to write music, play video games and spend time with his family. He used to love family gatherings, and would wrap everybody in big hugs. He loved socializing, always with that big smile on his face. He cooked. He loved cooking for his siblings. He had a big heart. To know him was to love him.”

Darell Richards was loved by his family, his friend and his community. On Sept. 6, his family hosted his second Angel-Versary, where loved ones, friends and community members came together to honor his life. A celebration, with joy and remembrances, held tightly in the hands of those who attended, as they released balloons to the sky, floating symbols of love and prayers sent into the ether.

The questions float on for another day.

But the love for Darell – for who he was to his parents, his siblings, his family and friends – and the love and strength of Darell’s family, stays heavily anchored in their hearts.

This story was originally published September 21, 2020 at 4:32 PM.