James Romel King was 22, a Black man from St. Louis, Missouri, whose life ended far too soon. The words around his death are painfully simple, because that’s sometimes how loss arrives: sudden, final, and leaving the people who loved him holding a thousand unanswered questions alongside their grief.
St. Louis is the kind of place where every neighborhood has its own rhythm—corner stores, familiar porches, streets that carry memories even when the people in them change. Somewhere insid
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