School mourns '1 of our babies'
1st-grader always brought smiles
The John P. Holland Elementary School in Dorchester is a fortress of slate-gray doors and locked window grates, ringed by craggy boulders.
But for all of the school's efforts to keep children safe, violence or the threat of it has shaken the school community three times this year. An 11-year-old boy smuggled a handgun into school, a young woman was fatally shot in daylight yards from the school, and now, Liquarry Jefferson, a cuddly first grader, is dead just two days after school let out for the summer.
School officials sobbed on the telephone and struggled to maintain their composure yesterday as they mourned a cheerful little boy who hugged administrators, always smiled hello, and loved to read most of all.
"It's been a long year," said the principal, Michele O'Connell, fighting back tears as she stood in the empty lobby. "You think that it's over, and it bubbles up again. The community has a way of pushing its way into the school, but this is beyond the beyond."
Parents and teachers at Holland have formed a family against crime for years, O'Connell said, and many educators like her have been around long enough to recall the gang violence of the 1980s. The 700-student school, painted in cheery reds, yellows, and blues, presents itself as a tree-filled oasis amid the apartment buildings at the corner of Olney Street and Geneva Avenue.
But in March, teachers were stunned when a fifth grader showed up at school with a .44- caliber pistol hidden in his backpack, the first time Holland school officials confiscated a loaded gun in an elementary school. The boy, who was arrested, did not threaten anyone with the gun, the principal said.
Earlier, on March 9, community college student Quinntessa Blackwell, 18, was shot multiple times in the chest, yards from the school, as she walked home from a convenience store.
O'Connell said the Holland school is determined to make students' lives as normal as possible, despite the dangers outside. A secretary scrutinizes visitors on a security camera before she buzzes them in. The school gives daily lessons on concepts such as respect and community service. Mostly students are taught to read and write, tackle math problems, and ponder their futures.
Liquarry, 8, was one of 22 students in a first-grade class this year, his second year at the school. Wearing T-shirts and sneakers, he blended in seamlessly, school officials said. He had solid marks on his report card. He rarely misbehaved, but when he did, he took responsibility and apologized. His sister also attended the school, but she graduated two years ago.
Liquarry was one of the top readers in class, and early this month won a reward for his efforts. He and a girl in his class went to the principal's office to read aloud to Jo-Ann Penn, the school's director of instruction. Normally, Penn listens to one book. But Liquarry and his classmate insisted that they read three.
The two snuggled beside her on a wooden bench in the office and competed to see who could read more loudly.
When the reading was over, Penn said, it seemed as if Liquarry did not want to leave.
"He was just so ecstatic about the fact that he had come down," she said. "The last thing he said to me was. 'If we read another book, can we bring it to you so we can read it together?' "
She smiled and said sure. Then summer arrived, and he was gone.
Yesterday she fielded telephone calls from teachers and others who are home on vacation.
"That's one of our babies," Penn said, before she turned to go back to work. "That one belonged to us." 