Two Bangs
Two loud bangs woke Juan Postell — two hard kicks that broke open the door.
Before he could grab clothes or get out of bed, a man dressed in black with his face hidden in a ski mask was waving a gun at him.
The man told Juan and his girlfriend, Shaunda McBride, not to move.
It wasn’t the first time Shaunda had a gun pulled on her, but looking down the barrel is just as frightening the second time.
Seconds later, Juan heard another two bangs — two gun shots that killed his mother.
Juan ran out of his room and found her unconscious. He held two fingers to her wrist and pressed, feeling a faint pulse.
Looking at her body, Juan felt like his world was over. He couldn’t stand up. He couldn’t think. On the way to the hospital, he couldn’t stop vomiting.
“It was such a sickening thing,” he said.
A Safe Neighborhood In A Bad Area
Minnie Postell lived at 164 Castle Drive in Hidden Oaks, a mobile home community. It’s quiet at night, except for the low hum of the highway, which borders the neighborhood.
At 4:50 in the afternoon, children walk home alone from the bus stop. Neighbors walk dogs without leashes. A sheriff’s deputy lives less than 500 feet from Minnie’s house.
At around 4:15 a.m. Tuesday, when Minnie heard someone breaking in, the 57-year-old grandmother grabbed her gun.
With three grandchildren in the house, she grabbed the gun to protect her family. Juan thinks she scared the intruders. He thinks that’s why they shot her.
Her Name Was Minnie, But They Called Her Mama
On Wednesday, family and friends gathered outside Minnie’s home to remember her and help ease one another’s pain.
“It’s the definition of senseless violence,” Juan said.
He sipped at a bottle of Bud Light, but it didn’t ease his pain.
“I’m hurt. I’m hurt bad,” he said. “I’m having problems just thinking clearly.”
Shaunda, who has been dating Juan for three years, said Minnie acted as a mother to anyone who came into her life. That’s why everyone called her mama.
“There’s no greater love than the love you have for your mama,” she said. “She might not have gave birth to me, she might have just been my mom through him, but that was my mom.”
Minnie spent her life supporting her family. She did accounting work, drove school buses and garbage trucks and then drove semi-trucks across the country.
Juan didn’t know where she got it, but he wasn’t surprised she had a gun.
“If you’re a female truck driver, four or five states away from home late at night at a truck stop, you’re a target,” he said.
Minnie’s daughter, Larissa Postell, said she strives to live like her mother.
Once she asked her mom how she could trust strangers enough to take them into her home.
She recalled Minnie’s answer: “‘God put us all here for a reason. And I feel like my reason was to mother the community, so that’s what I do.’”
Now Larissa isn’t sure if she can live like her mother.
“I want to be able to trust people and know there is good out there, but after this it’s hard.“
Point Blank
After Minnie was shot, one of the suspects yelled, “Come on, Drop, let’s go,” according to the police report.
Drop was later identified as Adarius Derrell Harris, who lives at 513 SW 68 Terrace in a neighborhood just blocks away from Minnie’s — a neighborhood that’s darker at night.
Juan was helping Harris write music and rap lyrics, and he’d been over to Minnie’s house several times before.
Witnesses identified Harris by his voice. He was arrested Tuesday morning on charges of homicide and robbery with a firearm.
Wednesday night, police were still looking for at least three other suspects and expected to make more arrests..
“I don’t have it in me to kill them.” Juan said. “But god damn it, I want to be there at the sentencing. I want to be there at the execution.”
For Larissa, knowing the accused suspect had previously been in her mother’s house makes it more painful.
“They put two bullets in my mama’s heart – the one place that carried all that love and all that affection. They took her in about a minute.”
