Joseph Andre Townsend, a 28-year-old man from St. Louis, Missouri, was Black, and the few details shared here only deepen the ache of what’s missing. A life is not a headline, not a single line in a record, not a name that can be spoken once and then tucked away. It is a whole world of mornings and late nights, routines and jokes, plans made in passing that suddenly become the kind of memories people hold with both hands because letting go feels like losing him all over again.
In a city
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