Of the hundreds of Good Friday liturgies celebrated April 6 across the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, perhaps none were more poignant than the bare-bones service at St. Lawrence of Brindisi Church in Watts.

An African American mother and Latino madre - whose sons were killed on the mean streets of South L.A. - led a procession carrying a life-sized wood corpus of the crucified Jesus into the inner-city church on Compton Avenue.

After the traditional reading of the Passion, Capuchin Franciscan Father Peter Banks told the racially mixed congregation that no one would be better to bear the broken body of Christ than Cynthia Mendenhall and Placida Altamira.

"If you lose a child, whether you're black, brown or white, Catholic or Protestant, it's the same feeling of suffering," the veteran Irish pastor said in dedicating the service to all parents who had lost children to violence. "And in suffering, we're brought together in our trials and our pain. We've all suffered, so we share a common feeling today."

Later, people slowly shuffled up the center aisle to touch the pierced feet and bruised knees of their savior, laid before the altar near a black-robed statue of Mary with hands clasped and eyes raised in silent prayer.

Atlamira's 18-year-old son, Omar Carillo, was robbed and shot Sept. 12, 2005, after getting off the Metro Blue Line at the 103rd Street station. While laying on the ground wounded, he was shot again and killed.

Mendenhall, who is known as "Sista Soulja" in the community, has had two sons murdered, both in the Imperial Courts housing project where she lives.

Tony, 25, was killed in a drive-by shooting. The young father of three had moved to Orange County so his children could get a better education and his whole family could have a better life. He was working and going to El Camino College. But he kept coming back to Watts to encourage friends that they, too, could escape from the ghetto. On one of his visits last August, after pulling into the parking lot of Imperial Courts, he had some words with a gang member in a van and was fatally shot in the head.

On Dec. 9, 60 days later, Mendenhall watched a second son, Darrian Cole, die right in front of her apartment, after being chased by Los Angeles County Sheriff deputies. He had been driving an alleged stolen car and was pulled over for drunk driving. Panicking, the 23-year-old tried to escape by climbing over a wall, but accidentally shot himself with a handgun he was carrying.

Gangs are winning
"It's an honor leading the Good Friday procession because the victims' families are never being recognized," said Mendenhall, a community activist for two decades, told The Tidings. "They glorify the murderer. They glorify the gang members. But once a child or family member is killed, after that day nobody notices you. And this today just keeps everything alive to let us know that somebody cares. It also lets others know: 'You can make it.'"

The 45-year-old woman, who isn't a member of St. Lawrence of Brindisi Parish, said she coped with losing two sons to violence through prayer and the support of Father Banks, who was there for her "every single minute." The amiable pastor helped pay for funeral expenses with a donation, along with providing food for the family from the church's pantry.

Mendenhall said she's tired of all the shootings and killings in her community, but stressed that the real problem is local politicians using government funds in the wrong way. They don't listen to people who live in Watts, preferring the counsel of so-called professionals.

She noted that her outreach work, including a soup kitchen for "the brothers," is paid for out of her own pocket, and that many good community programs - funded by federal, state, county and city dollars - have been cut over the years. She's heard about the recent crackdown on gang members, but has not seen any concrete results in Watts.

"Our children aren't joining gangs for just to be shooting and doing bad things," she explained. "They join a gang because they're getting attention. They join a gang because they get love. It's love. It doesn't have nothing to do with violence. And the young ones are easily influenced because 'you're taking care of me.'

"They're crying out for assistance because they're not getting love at home," she said. "So the gangs are winning."

Deadly daily reality
Father Banks pointed out for most Angelenos, even those living in low-income urban locales, the ongoing street violence that so tragically struck the families of Placida Altamira and Cynthia Mendenhall isn't the daily reality it is in South Los Angeles.

Having served the last nine years as pastor of St. Lawrence of Brindisi, the 61-year-old priest was of course aware of local crime, including murders. But the personal toll didn't really hit home until he joined the Watts Gang Task Force a year ago and learned the stories of, and started counseling, parents whose children had died violently.

What particularly touched the Franciscan's heart was watching Placida one day in church putting her arms around the mock-up casket holding the wood-carved corpus of Jesus. The mother stared straight down, her tears falling on the glass cover.

"I saw the tragedy in her face, a sorrow that I'd never seen in my life," he said. "A face of sorrow I couldn't believe. I saw the immense, immense, immense pain - beyond human understanding.

"I said to myself, she is saying to Jesus, 'I know exactly how you feel. I know exactly how your mother feels, what they did to you.' And that's how I became more and more moved."

Father Banks was amazed at the tremendous resiliency of these women and how they coped with losing their sons and daughters without becoming bitter or vengeful. He wondered what kept them going in life, finally concluding it must be their unconditional trust in Almighty God.

"So throughout the year, I thought, who better to carry the body of Jesus on Good Friday than mothers? Who would understand suffering better than a mother?" the priest recalled, holding up both hands. "Oh, it's a Good Friday story, and an Easter story."