Almost two years after four people were murdered, shocking the community of Dover in Kitson Town, St Catherine, residents say they still aren’t able to recognise the cheerful community they once called home.

The December 10, 2019 incident that plucked the festivities and joy from Christmas that followed 15 days later, was as a result of a gang-related dispute, National Security Minister Dr Horace Chang had revealed.

When the Jamaica Observer visited the community last week, there was a dreary quietness. The area, which residents said was known to be busy, was marked by completely empty roads and closed shops and business places.

Milton Morgan, 61, sat outside on a step with his hand at his jaw. Behind him, his bar was closed and that’s something he said wouldn’t have been the norm before.

“Mi woulda open because before the shooting, things did a gwan good. After the shooting, everything cut down. I don’t know when we a guh recover. We are in deep waters right now because of that. Wi inna deep waters like wi inna the sea and the boat lock off,” Morgan told the Sunday Observer.

Morgan related that he hasn’t been able to escape the memory of that December 10 night. According to police reports, a group of armed thugs shot at patrons at a shop, and at Morgan’s bar in the community sometime after 9:00 pm, leaving terrified residents scurrying to safety. And after minutes of gunfire, nine people were injured, four of whom died.

Among the deceased were 67-year-old Gladstone ”Bigga” Grange, 46-year-old Dennis ”Ninja” Pryce, 38-year-old Marcus ”Beba” White and 49-year-old bartender Patricia King.

Two of the men were killed inside Morgan’s bar.

“Two of them on my premises. From that, business very slow. Me sick with my eyes and mi used to live off of the bar and now nothing nah gwan fi the bar and the little cookshop dem. A suffer me a suffer right now and mi nuh fraid fi seh that. People in the area scared fi come support the place because dem a seh maybe a reprisal can come again or anything can gwaan,” he said.

Morgan stressed the fact that since the incident, he has been operating at a loss.

“People just scared for them life. Yuh hardly see people a come outside. Even now, the crossroad empty. One time the crossroad woulda full up a people. Mi get a beaten! The whole crossroad get a beaten! From the shooting gwan, it left me stagnant.”

Across the road, Ashley Richards sat in the shop where the other two men were killed. Behind the counter, she attended to her cellphone, as customers hardly showed up.

“Four people died overall and two died over here. Some other people did get shot too and had to run to safety and hide. Nobody nah really come out. People are staying in and nobody nah idle outside no more. You still have people who still have a fear that something might happen again. Nobody really knows so we started locking up early a nighttime. We nah stay out late since all of that,” Richards told the Sunday Observer.

“It nuh stop anybody from going outside, but everytime you just still have a little fear. Nobody nuh want a repeat of what happened.”

Richards said her sister-in-law, who was at the shop at the time, was caught up in the attack.

“My sister-in-law was one of them out here and one of the guys who died drop pon top of her right outside,” she recalled.

A 38-year-old livestock farmer told the Sunday Observer that he is only left to reminisce on older days, when Dover district was “full of life and energy.

“It is a devastating situation. There is nothing. Mi born and grow yah and from mi born, a di first something like that happen ina wi community. And a country this… a only clappers wi used to fi a buss dem time deh. That night, I hear some shots ring out. From that, the community dead right through. The community messed up big time,” he said.

“One time you would have a man birthday and everybody gather and drink all two liquor. Dem things deh nuh deh yah again. Man would be out playing dominoes now. All of that done. Nobody nuh really move out, but everybody just a stay inna dem yard. From work to yard. When it touch six o’ clock, a ghost town.”

The man said that both Christmases after the incident have been mournful rather than celebratory.

“That Christmas (2019) would’ve been the greatest Christmas. The vibes did right, money did a make and everything was nice. Now, nobody nah look forward to nuh Christmas. Nobody nuh deh pon the road. I just come out to feed my goats. And it is just an hour, or half an hour feeding then I head in back. And that’s it,” he said.

One woman said there is now a stigma attached to Dover.

“After certain hours, not even dog nuh deh pon the road. If yuh deh a road and say ‘a Kitson Town mi live,’ the first thing people a ask yuh is about the massacre. The impact deh here same way. It’s bad. Mi heart nearly fly outta mi mouth that night. So, imagine the children. All the children who were out on the road at that time traumatised. Some a dem all fraid a police,” she related.

Another resident said: “If yuh deh a Spanish Town after seven o’clock and a try get a vehicle fi come in, nobody nah come this side. The community slow dung. When night come down, the little children dem fraid fi guh shop. If the people dem hear a yute step pon a box juice box and it buss, everybody scared. Worse, Christmas a come, if people hear a clappers everybody gone! All dog gone. Nobody nah stay pon road. When night come, mi not even a cross the road.”

Further, a 55-year-old shopkeeper told the Sunday Observer that it’s almost as if the community started experiencing an economic downturn, months before the novel coronavirus pandemic.

“Before the killings, I used to close all 10 o’clock and after nine. From it happen, by after seven everybody a take themselves off the road. Business got slow and then COVID made it worse. Before, all midnight when mi sleep and wake, I would still hear people on the road. Man out a jerk chicken and thing like that. It just turn the place in a ghost town. That incident will always be remembered. Yuh just always remember it. And because the community is so small and because the people were renowned, it is hard to forget,” she said, relating a lead-up incident:

“During the day before everything happened, a little girl came to me asking for clappers to buy. Mi run har and seh mi nah sell har no clothes fi she go hurt har self. So night come now and mi lock up and go home. And as mi sit down pon the bed and a eat piece a fish, mi hear the noise outside. All along I thought it was clappers… I thought the little girl went and got clappers somewhere else. When everything finished and I heard what really happened, I was so frightened. I couldn’t believe. I didn’t know this could happen here.”