James Scott was an 18-year-old kid standing at the precipice of his adult life. Months ago he became a parent to his first son, Kaiden. Scott wanted to do more than support his child financially, he wanted to be a good dad like his father, James Scott Sr. aka Snoop. Snoop and the rest of his family lived in the Forties, a New York City Housing Authority complex in Far Rockaway, Queens. He lifted weights in the community gym every day. Snoop’s six-year-old daughter was enrolled in programs. For Scott, signing up to lift weights with dad was only natural.

Scott was murdered before he could complete his gym registration.

Prior to being shot in the chest, Scott was kicking it with other Forties residents. Witnesses say that around 8 p.m. a gunman wearing a black hoodie and a cap approached the group via a dark pathway. He opened fire and everyone panicked. 25-year-old Corey Gasby was in the crowd. Gasby’s family described him as quiet and mild mannered. He was planning to begin a career in construction work.

Gasby was shot in the head. He may never walk again.

When things like this happened in the Forties, nobody asked “Why?” They already knew. Nobody shed a tear, but a memorial of crimson candles stood where Scott last did. Shootings like this happened plenty of times before. The stillness of the vacant playground, ripped remains of yellow caution tape, and ominous silence among residents implied that it could happen again. Rule one of shootings is simple: expect retaliation.

Scott and Gasby’s stories are just two in a complicated cycle of violence in Far Rock. For years, community members have felt neglected by NYCHA. There never seems to be enough funding to address symptoms of generational poverty. Critically wounded individuals don’t expect to receive proper emergency treatment. Some claim that people who come to offer assistance are more interested in helping themselves. This has left Far Rock with serious trauma and an even deeper distrust of outsiders. The road to progress is a tough one, but the community is determined to change for the better.

“What they want to bring here is counseling, I’m not too fond of it,” said long-time Forties resident, Tierra Holmes. “You don’t work here, you don’t live here, you want to talk about something you know nothing about.” Her career as a program coordinator convinced Holmes that anti gun violence meetings don’t work.

Holmes believes working building cameras and alarm systems will make a difference. Ocean Bay is the only NYCHA facility in the area with cameras. That’s because it was recently privatized and put under new management. Before then, it was known as the Edgemere Houses. Residents were so afraid to come outside, they called it “Edgefear.” Requests for functional cameras in the Forties have gone unfulfilled because of budgeting issues. In the meantime, she says kids in the community are coping in silence. In this community, snitching is a death wish.

Even more dangerous is the 40 minute journey to the nearest trauma center in Jamaica, Queens. After the shooting, Gasby was rushed to Jamaica Hospital Medical Center. Despite sustaining a gun wound to the head, Gasby was stable, breathing, and asking for his mother by Sunday.

“This hospital definitely saved his life,” said Gasby’s aunt, Jacqueline Desire. “Their trauma center is excellent, fast, and efficient.”

Scott was taken to Saint John's Episcopal Hospital, ten minutes away. He didn’t make it. Far Rock hasn’t had a local trauma center since the Peninsula Hospital Center closed in 2012. Now St. John’s is the only hospital in the area. Gasby’s aunts said they’ve seen people die while waiting for care at St Johns. Results from her blood and urine test took five hours, according to Cristen, Gasby’s aunt. Rockaway residents created a petition asking the New York City Council to fund a trauma unit in St. John’s Hospital. With the proper resources, the Far Rock community believes it is perfectly capable of healing itself.

“Every kid that comes in here is my kid,” stated Andre Brown, Violence Interrupter Supervisor at Rock Safe Streets. For over five years, Rock Safe Streets has tackled gun violence through community based intervention. Beyond taking guns off the street, they also assist Far Rock through job development, mentorship, and education initiatives. A young man named David entered the program and realized gang life wasn’t for him. Rock Safe Streets helped him get construction certifications and a steady job in the field. A young woman went to college and another now works for NYCHA. Program leaders attribute their success to the involvement of well respected people within Far Rock. Still, one of the biggest challenges to Rock Safe Streets is gang affiliation.

“They can’t go to the GED program because they might get shot in that area,” said Brown. “We have to find other things to send them in another direction.” Scott was Brown’s participant. Not only did Brown watch Scott grow up, he also heard his last words before being put into an ambulance. He described the dilemma as “frustrating.”

While the community continues to chart its own healing and progress, Snoop is planning to bury his child. At 3 a.m. he texted Brown a newspaper article with a picture of Scott. It was captioned, “James is an early learner. He is here pictured learning computer before turning 4 years old.”

The police investigation is ongoing.