Indelible Link

Who are you getting a portrait of?

"My friend," Jones says. "He got killed."

When?

"July 16."

Where?

"Sixteenth and F Northeast."

Jones and Johnson say they ran when they heard gunfire and thought nobody got hit, then came back to the corner to find their best friend, Robert Mallory, had been caught by the bullets. He was 19.

Jones has come in with two other men, each carrying their own photograph of a friend or relative who was murdered.

Curtis Cormack is saying he is getting a tattoo of his sister: "She was shot in the head in the house. I think it was a robbery. Her name was Terrian Felecia Cormack." Her sons came home from school and found her.

Dominique Watson is getting a tattoo of his cousin. "He was shot at 14th and C streets Southeast. Shot in the chest and behind the head. March 2006, I think.

"I've been wanting to get a tattoo. Get it on my arm. That way, he's going to always be with me."

You ask Jones why he's there. He stares ahead with cold eyes. "Same reason."

Johnson fills in: " 'Cause he was my friend. We grew up together. Went to school together."

"I mean," says Cormack, "it ain't much to explain, you know, your feelings when someone passes away. You want to always remember them. Sometimes you might not have a picture of them. But if you have a tattoo, you can say, 'Look, this is my sister.' It becomes a part of you. You go through everyday life. Somebody will say, 'Who is that right there?' And I let it be known."

He extends his arm, and his sister's face appears.