Grieving relatives wonder why cops shot their loved ones.
With the help of the International People's Democratic Uhuru Movement, a social justice organization, Carney has vowed to tell her son's story.
After Pickens' funeral on Aug. 9, Carney, joined by about 150 people, marched from 52nd and Warrington streets to the 12th Police District headquarters at 65th Street and Woodland Avenue, demanding answers about her son's death.
The group blocked traffic and chanted slogans like, "Killer pigs must go." They held signs that read, "JAIL THE KILLER POLICE," "STOP OPERATION SAFE STREETS" and "JUSTICE FOR EDWARD BOO PICKENS."
The scene was repeated about a week later at 52nd and Warrington streets, where a group of about 40 busted an Operation Safe Streets rally. They then marched to 54th Street and Chester Avenue, chanting, "Hell no--Mayor Street must go."
On Aug. 30 they rallied at a block party at 50th Street and Baltimore Avenue to once again protest Operation Safe Streets and demand justice for Pickens.
"Why should the taxpayers pay money to benefit Safe Streets when the people who are employed to do Safe Streets are killing us?" says Carney. "The mayor needs to address this situation. And if he can't address us, why should he run a city?"
At the Uhuru House on Sunday, some 20 people are gathered in a small room for a "Justice Hearing on Police Brutality." The room is decorated in red, black and green, with posters bearing words like "GENOCIDE," "REVOLUTION" and "POLICE MURDERS."
Several survivors have come to share their testimonies.
There is Allen Overton, the father of 31-year-old Anthony Overton, who Pennsylvania state troopers say committed suicide after a traffic stop. His father believes the troopers shot him.
There is Barbara Vance, whose nephew, Kenneth Griffin, was killed by his parole officers.
Then there's Queen Carney, sitting in a black folding chair, clutching a wrinkled Kleenex.
As the meeting gets underway, Carney fidgets in her purse for her cigarettes, found somewhere amid her asthma inhalers and blood pressure medication.
"I gotta go outside and take a smoke," she says, placing the manila envelope of photographs of Boo on her chair. "I stopped smoking 18 years ago, but ever since that day I haven't been able to stop. I know Boo's looking down on me, frowning, like, 'What are you doing?'"
Welcomed by handclaps, Carney soon takes the podium. Her fiance, Reginald Bard, is at her side, rubbing her shoulder as she talks about Boo, her voice sometimes cracking under the weight of her words.
"On Aug. 3 John Ramirez, an undercover police officer, assassinated my son," says Carney. "I have nothing but contempt for Ramirez. He has left me totally devastated. I am extremely outraged and just sick with sadness.
"I feel like Ramirez tried, convicted and executed my son. He was the judge, the juror and the executor, and he terminated a good life. He murdered my son for absolutely nothing."
Tomorrow at the Kingsessing Recreation Center, Carney will retell her story at a community meeting. And on Monday she plans to join a rally at City Hall to demand justice for her son. For her this would mean seeing Ramirez convicted of first-degree murder.
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