Two people have been arrested for the murder of a Portsmouth man.
Erik Leigh Williams, 19, and Alime Joseph Spruill, 19, are charged with the October 13 murder of Brooks Gibbons, who was shot and left outside a Chesapeake apartment on October 13.
Williams and Spruill each face charges of 1st degree murder, use of a firearm in the commission of a felony and attempt robbery.
According to police, Gibbons was walking to his truck with his girlfriend when two men approached him and shot him. The suspects fled from the Campostella area complex at 3100 Petre Road. Police don’t believe he knew the suspects.
“here I stand now all alone,
memories flash of those I’ve known.
cannot change things said and done,
live life full ‘til my time comes.
Of lives of friends that I have lost There has been a great deal of tragedy surrounding me lately and indirectly affecting me, however never have I been in jeopardy and, with hindsight, decisions I made in the not-so-distant past have prevented my life from being involved in the recent events.
Confused? Well it started with a phone call two weeks ago. It was a Monday afternoon and my neighbor, Jorge, got word that his boss was gunned down in his front yard.
Miguel A. Ramos-Amaya, 37, was their boss and contractor who ran Mickey’s Construction. Locally, he was in the news when several of his employees were detained at Naval Station Norfolk. Mickey employed primarily illegal aliens and their presence on the base began a federal investigation, that now, even after his death and more than a year later, is still ongoing. My neighbors, illegal as well, have now found themselves concerned about their futures. With Mikey’s death, their jobs were lost and employment nonexistent. They have decided to pack it up and head to an undisclosed northern state where employment for them is available. Of course, for their sake, I am not going to say where.
They are my good friends. My brothers. Mi familia. Shorty was my best friend here. I got him into surfing and we spent many nights telling stories and drinking beers on our beach here in Willoughby and traveling to our favorite surf spots in Virginia and North Carolina. After two years of good times and great friendship, my friends are leaving. For this, I am truly devastated.
Police have very little leads on what happened. The rumors among the underground latin circles revealed that Mickey had an affinity for other men’s wives and there was at least four different disgruntled husbands who could have been the shooter, or shooters. With the way illegal immigrants can appear and disappear without a trace, it looks like this will be another Norfolk homicide that will remain unsolved.
“HOMICIDE VICTIM IDENTIFIED”-Oct. 13. 2005
It was an early Saturday morning when I first met Porkchop. He was stumbling along with another neighbor of ours, fishing poles in hand, and far too many beers consumed at such an early hour. It was like 7 a.m. He lived a few houses down from me and his partner in crime was a redneck from North Carolina named Robert.
“Hey man…you got a joint?”
I smiled at the drunken pair, sipping my coffee, watching the sunrise. “No, man…sorry…”
“Ahhh…” he cackled as he stumbled down towards the jetties to our west.
I would continue to see Porkchop on the beach, usually with a beer in hand, not unlike the others who lived in Willoughby and enjoyed its beaches. We were neighbors and became friends as it turned out we were living in similar circumstances. We were both single fathers dealing with that difficult lifestyle, and our kids were the same ages. He had two boys, Ryan and Reed, who lived with their mother in Chesapeake, and spent the weekends with him. With my kids coming for the summer, it seemed like an obvious friendship that would benefit his children along with Christian and Katryn . It was also around this time that my Mexican neighbors moved into the apartment next to my cabana. The four of us hit it off and the summer of 2004 would end up being one of the best times of our lives. The kids got along great and we would all travel to places like Washington D.C. and our favorite local surf spot, 85th street in Virginia Beach. Life was good.
At the end of the summer, it was time for me to take the kids back to their mother in Florida. She lived in Orlando, but things were not working out with her there and she was preparing to move to Alabama. We decided to meet in Jacksonville Beach to make the swap. During the 13-hour trip, Porkchop explained how his landlady had jacked up his rent and even though he had done thousands of dollars of renovations on her building, she was unwilling to compromise.
“Well,” I said. “why don’t you move in my place? You are there all the time and I could use the help with rent.” It was set. Porkchop would move in when we returned to Virginia after our vacation in Jax Beach. On the way home, we stopped in Columbia, South Carolina, where I met his family and saw the dismal trailer on the “hill,” where he grew up. I came to understand much more about his upbringing. He was a victim of poverty in South Carolina and it explained a lot about him, but also showed me he came a long way.
Porkchop was a good friend, but had “sketchy” tendencies. I could tell when he would lie about certain things, or at least mask the truth. It was usually inconsequential and didn’t affect me, however the trust was beginning to diminish and I began to second guess my decision to take on a roommate.
I came home one day from work and his father called me. Porkchop had been arrested in the parking lot of the Thirsty Camel, a neighborhood bar two blocks east of our place. Immediately, I thought DUI, as he liked to get drunk and just take off to destinations unknown, but it turned out they stopped him as he was entering his Blazer. It was his illegal plates that had caused the cops to question him. They ran his name and it turned out he had a warrant in Chesapeake. They took him to jail where he spent the next couple weeks.
Prior to his incarceration, I had become fed up with his antics. He was constantly becoming more and more drunk, so shitfaced that he would constantly be falling down over things, becoming loud and aggressive, and all around unpleasant to be around. I was just about to kick him out when he was arrested. That bought him some time. When he was released he looked good, healthy, and rested and his mindset was better. He was going to try and get himself together and in a better way.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. He reverted to his old ways almost immediately and I felt like my task of babysitting a 35-year-old man was something in which I didn’t want to be involved. It came to a head when rent was due and he blew it off, a case of beer under his arm and he turned the argument on me. That was it. I had enough. I kicked him out on the spot.
“Brooks Allen Gibbons, 35, died Oct. 14, 2005. Mr. Gibbons is survived by his wife, Glenda J. Gibbons of Chesapeake; two sons, Ryan Gibbons and Reed Gibbons, both of Chesapeake .”
Porkchop was a good man. For the most part, he would help out a friend or stranger alike, but he had a dark, self-destructive side which began to affect everyone around him; not only me but my neighbors as well. I felt bad when I kicked him out, as if I failed him. As a friend, I felt like I hadn’t tried hard enough to help him. However, I now believe I did what I could…some people, regardless of what you may do to help, don’t want it, nor want to hear it. It wasn’t my place and when I had enough I brought our friendship to an end. Life became quieter, simpler, and without drama following his departure. My neighbors felt the same. I wasn’t the only one who had become irritated by his volatile behavior. He called me once from the beer, slurring drunkenly on the phone that he wanted to come by. I declined and it would be our last conversation.
His father called me this week to tell me he had just buried his son. I didn’t know what to say. It had been months since I had seen either of them, much less thought about them. I felt bad for his father. He was a good man who tried his best to help give his son direction. Porkchop had been gunned down in a parking lot by two black males for reasons unknown. I have my opinions on the matter but what good is it to speculate. I am sure any of you can make your own conclusions, but the bottom line is Brooks “Porkchop” Gibbons is now dead, murdered, and his two boys, for reasons that can’t understand are without a father.
I was considerably shaken by the situation. After a long talk with my mother, I came to the conclusion that I had made a good decision in my life. Porkchop was the type of person who put himself in bad situations. This behavior could have put me in precarious situations as well. Who knows what happened in that parking lot, or what led up to it. This could have been brought to my home, to my children.
I mourn the loss of my once good friend but at the same time I feel I might have evaded trouble that in this point in my life I did not need.
It has been quite a week. As I sit here reflecting on my life and the events that have surrounded it, I grieve for the two little boys who lost their Dad, for the father who lost a son…but at the end of the day, I feel lucky that I have kept myself from being involved in potentially bad situations which could have brought my life to an end and left my own children without a father.
At the present time, no one has been arrested in this case nor have any suspects been found.
(Portsmouth Police Dept. Press Release)
Who pays the price, who pays the cost
Can't cry, just anger till the end
It burns inside to lose a friend…”
- “Loss” by Biohazard
-The victim of last night’s shooting has been identified as 35-year-old Brooks A. Gibbons from the 4500 block of Duke Street in Portsmouth. The shooting occurred last night at approximately 11:26 P.M. at the 3100 block of Petre Road in Chesapeake.
