| BARRIOZONA |
| Bilingual Community Expression Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues |
| The Other "Marios" Who Are Still Alive |
The blown-up image of Mario Madrigal Jr.
imprinted on a large vinyl sign stands
out in the middle of the city of Mesa
Police headquarters parking lot, rising
above the dozens of people who have
congregated to commemorate the five
years since his tragic death.
“My bloods claims justice!”, can be read
in both English and Spanish on the big
banner, and the barely sketched semi
smile of the teen who’d die in a burst of
bullets contrasts with the somber motive
for which his family, friends and
members of the community have come
together on this sweaty summer’s
afternoon.
imprinted on a large vinyl sign stands
out in the middle of the city of Mesa
Police headquarters parking lot, rising
above the dozens of people who have
congregated to commemorate the five
years since his tragic death.
“My bloods claims justice!”, can be read
in both English and Spanish on the big
banner, and the barely sketched semi
smile of the teen who’d die in a burst of
bullets contrasts with the somber motive
for which his family, friends and
members of the community have come
together on this sweaty summer’s
afternoon.
FIVE YEARS: The Madrigal case has become more than the shooting death by
police of a 15-year old high school junior. On Saturday, august 23, 2008,
family commemorated the fifth anniversary of the death of Mario Madrigal, Jr.,
outside the Mesa police headquarters.
police of a 15-year old high school junior. On Saturday, august 23, 2008,
family commemorated the fifth anniversary of the death of Mario Madrigal, Jr.,
outside the Mesa police headquarters.
| Text and photographs by Eduardo Barraza |
The scene is anything but new. For five consecutive years, the parents of the deceased teen have remembered his
death in the same public spot where they began their protests in August of 2003, when Mario Madrigal, Jr. was
shot and killed by Mesa Police officers. A five-year period some think should have by now closed the wounds,
faded the pain, and quenched their hope for justice.
The time that passed by has had an opposite effect, however, since five years later, the memory of the way and
the circumstances in which Mario Madrigal, Jr. was killed has gradually increased in strength, to the point of
becoming not only a case that resists to be forgotten, but it seems to have taken the form of a permanent
struggle.
Officially, the case of the 15-year old teen who was under the effects of alcohol, supposedly attacked the officers
who were called to take him to a rehabilitation center, was impacted with taser guns, and finally shot to death
with bullets at least ten times, is closed. The family’s version was rebutted and denied.
death in the same public spot where they began their protests in August of 2003, when Mario Madrigal, Jr. was
shot and killed by Mesa Police officers. A five-year period some think should have by now closed the wounds,
faded the pain, and quenched their hope for justice.
The time that passed by has had an opposite effect, however, since five years later, the memory of the way and
the circumstances in which Mario Madrigal, Jr. was killed has gradually increased in strength, to the point of
becoming not only a case that resists to be forgotten, but it seems to have taken the form of a permanent
struggle.
Officially, the case of the 15-year old teen who was under the effects of alcohol, supposedly attacked the officers
who were called to take him to a rehabilitation center, was impacted with taser guns, and finally shot to death
with bullets at least ten times, is closed. The family’s version was rebutted and denied.
Nevertheless, by demonstrating each
year Mario and Martha Madrigal, Mario’s
parents, have been able to keep a
flame alight, and in doing so, they are
continuously reminding the community,
fundamentally, about their son’s death.
At the same time, symbolically, they
continue to remind us about the death
of a troubled teenager who struggled
with alcohol, and desperately needed
help. Even more poignantly, they have
been able to maintain the pressure on
the fact that a high school’s junior -who
would have turned 21 this September-
was brutally shot and killed by the
police.
Whatever the outcome of an upcoming
case in a federal court this September,
the death of Mario Madrigal, Jr. refuses
to be erased from the collective memory
of a community that tends to forget too
soon.
year Mario and Martha Madrigal, Mario’s
parents, have been able to keep a
flame alight, and in doing so, they are
continuously reminding the community,
fundamentally, about their son’s death.
At the same time, symbolically, they
continue to remind us about the death
of a troubled teenager who struggled
with alcohol, and desperately needed
help. Even more poignantly, they have
been able to maintain the pressure on
the fact that a high school’s junior -who
would have turned 21 this September-
was brutally shot and killed by the
police.
Whatever the outcome of an upcoming
case in a federal court this September,
the death of Mario Madrigal, Jr. refuses
to be erased from the collective memory
of a community that tends to forget too
soon.
DEMONSTRATION: This case that resists to be forgotten, and it seems to
have taken the form of a permanent struggle.
have taken the form of a permanent struggle.
Perhaps the death of the boy who stills timidly smiles from the picture on the banner can help us all -directly or
indirectly, as parents or just as members of the society- to think about the “Marios” who are still alive today,
whether we are providing alcohol to a minor who has to go to school tomorrow, calling 911 to plea for help, or
wearing a police badge and a gun.
indirectly, as parents or just as members of the society- to think about the “Marios” who are still alive today,
whether we are providing alcohol to a minor who has to go to school tomorrow, calling 911 to plea for help, or
wearing a police badge and a gun.
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