This is another installment in The Birmingham Times/AL.com/CBS42 joint series, “Beyond the Violence: What Can Be Done to Address Birmingham’s Rising Homicide Rate?”

Antwone Brown misses his brother year-round, but the holidays can be especially tough. During an interview with The Birmingham Times, he spoke about one particular Christmas with his brother, who he lost in 2021.

The brothers were two years apart, Antwone said: “I was like 5 and he was 7, and we stayed up all night waiting on Santa. We stayed up in the living room right next to the tree, and he never came. We finally dozed off around 5 in the morning.”

“When we woke up, still no presents,” he recalled. “My mom was in her room with the door locked, so we tried to open the door. … It wasn’t opening, so we had to knock. When we knocked, we said to my mom, ‘We don’t have any presents.’ She made us wait all day [because we had been bad in school]. We were in the living room crying, and she was on the phone with her friends laughing at us crying, knowing she got us some presents. She finally told us she got us some presents. We wiped our tears fast and ran to the presents.”

Tyree Brown was shot to death outside Birmingham convenience store on April 21, 2021.

After it happened, Antwone said, “My mind went blank. It’s like everything just stopped. … I just started crying. I try to keep my mind off of it. I try to just focus on school and graduating.”

Antwone is a senior this year at a school in Birmingham.

“I want to make sure I graduate,” he said. “My brother died before graduation. Before he could actually walk the stage, he had just died. He didn’t get to go to the prom, nothing. He was setting up, getting ready to go to the prom. He had just got his suit and taken his senior pictures and everything.”

For Thanksgiving, the Brown brothers would sometimes go to their grandmother’s house or cousin’s house for family time, Antwone said.

Since the death of Tyree, Antwone has yet to get any type of counseling: “My mom feels I need it, but I really don’t think I do. I really don’t know if it would work, but I’m not against giving it a try.”

In order to be a support to his mother, Antwone said, “I try to help out when I comes to my younger siblings. I clean up around the house, maybe wash clothes and do the dishes to take that extra load off of her.”

Antwone visits his brother’s gravesite at Patterson-Forest Grove Funeral Home and Cemetery as often as he can, and he posts about him on social media occasionally.

“I went and got his name tattooed on my left forearm.” Also, in remembrance of his brother, Antwone said, “He always smiled, so I try to keep a smile.”

Here are other siblings on losing brothers and sisters:

(Compiled by Nicole S. Daniel)

Jabary Gatson

Jabary Gatson remembers lying across his bed at 10:23 on May 16, 2019, eating snacks when his mother Felicia Morgan ran into his room crying.

His brother, Sanquez Morgan, 20, had been shot and killed in North Avondale. His mother would not let him go to the crime scene.

It was difficult for Gatson, now 17, to process what he was told because he had just spoke with his brother the day before. “We had a great bond. I miss him every day. I talk to him in the spirit.”

After Sanquez’s death, Gatson said he received counseling which helped him with grief “a lot. It gave me hope to keep going and be better.”

To make sure he stays on the right path Gatson said he “got saved … I wanted to give my life to Christ.”

To be a support to his mother he continues to live Christ-like while ministering to her when needed. In addition to lifting her up spiritually, “I make sure I don’t put too much pressure on her,” he said.

Gatson said he mostly misses the big brother mentality Sanquez displayed towards him. “I would call him about anything. I could talk to him and he was always there.”

Gatson encourages anybody who has lost a loved one to understand death happens for a reason. “God does everything for a reason. Yes you will grieve, but don’t miss the plans that God has for you.”

After graduating from Banks Academy in 2024, Gatson plans to enroll in the culinary program at Jefferson State Community College.

Shaneriell Peoples

Since the death of her brother DelQuan McNeily, Shaneriell Peoples, 22, and her mother Rose Johnson have become closer since she’s now the only child.

“I never says I ‘had’ I say I ‘have.’ I still talk like he’s still here.”

Peoples graduated from Miles College with a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice in May.

She advised anyone who has lost a sibling to not question God. “Don’t lose hope and faith. When I lost my brother I didn’t question God … we have to go one day too.”

Keaira Truss

When she received a phone call about the death of her brother, Antwon Truss, from her mother, Keaira Truss, 30, felt like “the room was spinning” and she wasn’t on earth.

“I was in disbelief. I questioned why and how did it happen? I never thought it would be my brother. You hear about violence on television, social media or you may have known about other victims that are mutual friends, but to experience it with a close sibling that you grew up with in the same household was a shock.”

Her last words to her brother were “I love you; I’ll see you later” when she hugged him.

Since the death of brother, Truss has not visited a counselor. “I think I’m fine. I don’t think I’m emotionally detached that much. It is hard but I’m still able to function. The hardest part is accepting the fact he is deceased and his killer was so close to the family is what makes it hard.”

Celebrating her birthday this year on April 14 was a little difficult.

“It’s just a reminder that last year, on my birthday I viewed my brother’s body. My birthday is now shared with my brother’s death.”

In honor of her brother, the family has decided to spend more time together. “I’m more of a listening ear for my mother. Sometimes she calls me just to crying because she has triggers as well. I give her emotional support.”

What hurts Truss the most is “when I have a child he or she won’t be able to know my brother how I knew my brother. He was an uncle to other people’s kids. Mine won’t have that opportunity like other kids did.”

Meelehia Rush

Almost six years after her sister’s death, Meelehia Rush said she’s still numb.

LaKandria Rush, 34, was killed in October 2017 when someone opened fire on the vehicle where she was sitting in the city’s Central Park community.

“The first three years was a lot of denial. It was a lot of not acknowledging it, even though I have to wake up and see the effects of it every day. It’s in my face every day reminding me, she’s not here.”

After LaKandria’s death, Rush gained custody of her sister’s two younger children who were at the time 6 and 14 years old. “I have to face them every day. That’s confirmation that she’s not here.”

She can acknowledge that her sister is gone but, part of her is “telling me one day you’re going to wake up and it’s going to be a reset. I’m going through the motions right now waiting for the reset to happen.”

Since losing her sister, Rush has never sought any type of counseling.

“I know I should and I probably will eventually. I’m not in that space right now to where I would be receptive to it but, I feel like I’m getting close to a space where I’ll be ready to not move on but to release it but I’m not completely there yet.”

Rush said a part of her soul left with her sister. “She passed exactly seven days after I buried my grandfather. I literally compare losing them to losing my heart and soul. That’s how I feel.”