The grandmother was intent on defending herself in a neighborhood that has changed drastically since she was a young girl. Anderson's small, light-green childhood home is protected by security bars and an alarm system. She also has her gun. And when Anderson, 61, heard gunshots one recent night, she was ready. She called police and waited with her snubnose .38.
"Us being seniors, criminals don't think we'd do anything," Anderson said, looking over her gold reading glasses and standing in a room filled with pictures of her four granddaughters. "We don't play anymore. We won't take this lying down."
There is something jarring about the image of a gray-haired grandma (or grandpa) packing a pistol. And there is something laudable in the image of an old-timer turning the tables on a criminal.
"People despise crime in general," said Illinois State Police Master
Sgt. James Morrisey, who investigated the burglar shooting. "And elderly
people are (thought) of as easy prey for predators. I guess people like
to see that victims are not always victims."
Widespread attention followed February's shooting by Anderson's
octogenarian neighbor, including intense media coverage - even a mention
in the recent American Hunter magazine - and public pleas for the
prosecutor to overlook her lack of a gun permit.
Then, earlier this month, 74-year-old city resident Willie Brown shot
and wounded an intruder standing at his bedroom door. More attention,
and plenty of praise, followed.
These shootings are not unique to East St. Louis. But this dilapidated
city of 31,000 - including 3,400 people over 65 - has struggled for
years with a soaring crime rate. The city also has a sizable group of
seniors who, for a variety of reasons, have opted to stay in their homes
even as they grow more vulnerable and the area around them grows more
dangerous.
The two shootings, plus another two years ago when an 87-year-old
resident fired at a burglar, have heartened seniors. At a morning Bible
study class held at the Clyde C. Jordan Senior Citizen Center, older
adults expressed pride about the self-defense shootings, mixed with
sadness that criminals were preying on the elderly.
"People are fighting back," said Robert Haines, 62.
"The philosophy of turning the other cheek is certainly healthy. But not
to the extent that you become a victim," said Willie Harris, 63.
A few blocks away, Henry McKinzie, 70, sat outside and recalled how his
former neighbor, Nina Sloan, shot at a man trying to break into her
kitchen on 88th Street in August 2004. She fired two shots through her
kitchen door. The burglar ran off. He was never caught.
McKinzie and his wife looked after the elderly woman for years. She had
no family and lived alone. She died in March at age 89.
For McKinzie, the recent spate of seniors defending themselves recalled
Sloan's actions.
"We're proud of our elderly folk," he said.
'I'm in a foxhole'
Willie Brown also keeps his gun under his pillow.
On June 15, he was awakened by a knife-wielding burglar outside his
bedroom on Caseyville Avenue.
"I reached behind my back and whipped my gun from under my pillow and
said, 'Take this .38,' and I blasted him," recalled Brown, a retired
Korean War veteran who keeps busy mowing lawns.
The burglar fled but a suspect was arrested later by police.
Although Brown successfully defended himself, he was shaken by the
brazen crime.
"It seems like I'm in a foxhole in my own home," he said. "That's pretty
bad."
East St. Louis Police Capt. Lenzie Stewart praised the seniors for
fending off the intruders, but he worries that another elderly person
might be hurt by their use of a handgun. He said the city needs to do a
better job of protecting its elderly citizens. But he understands why
the seniors stay, despite the threats around them.
"Most of the residents in this city," Stewart said, "they don't want to
give up where they live and were raised."
Jacksie Mae King rebuffed her daughter's attempts to get her to move
from her small cream-colored house on a dead-end street next to a set of
railroad tracks.
King, who celebrated her 88th birthday last weekend, had endured three
burglaries in the last four years, said her daughter, Pamela
Paulette-Clark. The family installed more window bars and a better alarm
system after the first two incidents. But King, who uses a walker,
suffered a large black-and-blue bruise on her face after a burglar in
December beat her, her daughter said.
So Paulette-Clark gave her mom a .32-caliber Colt revolver. She told her
how to use it and explained that the bullets would shoot through a door.
On Feb. 7, King heard someone smashing a window on her house. It was a
little after 2 a.m. She heard the intruder trying to open the front
door. She fired at least two shots into the door, hoping to scare him
off, police said.
Several hours later, Paulette-Clark entered through the house's back
door. She was coming to make her mom some breakfast. Her mom was seated
at the kitchen table. Next to her was the gun.
Paulette-Clark recalled her mother saying, "We had guests last night."
She thought her mom meant mice. She hoped her mom wasn't trying to shoot
at rodents.
But then she walked to the front door and looked outside. There was a
body.
Paulette-Clark said she walked back into the kitchen, called police and
told her mom, "Well, I have news for you - We still have guests."
King had no idea that she had killed the intruder, police said. In May,
the state's attorney's office announced it would not prosecute King for
any crime, including not having a gun permit.
King is remorseful about the shooting, said her neighbor Anderson.
"But it was going to be he or she," said Anderson, who sleeps better
with her gun under the pillow.