Veronica Gail Foy, a 47-year-old Black woman from Center Point, Alabama, was shot late on the night of January 27, 2019, outside her apartment in the 100 block of Garden Way. Deputies were called to the parking lot just after 10 p.m., and the early accounts said she had been hit after parking her car in front of the apartments. Neighbors who heard the gunfire rushed out and tried to help her before paramedics arrived, turning an ordinary Sunday night into a scene of panic, sirens, and people
doing what they could in the narrow space between shock and grief. She was taken to UAB Hospital, where the Jefferson County coroner said she died hours later in the early morning of January 28 after suffering a gunshot wound to her side.
As her name became public, the coverage filled in the outline of the life that had been torn apart. Family members remembered Foy as someone whose presence lit up a room, a woman her cousin Frank Gray said would give you the shirt off her back and be the first to arrive when family gathered. Her memorials described her not only as a mother, but also as a grandmother, sister, and friend to many, a Birmingham native who had roots in First Missionary Baptist Church of Pratt City and who graduated from Jackson-Olin High School. In those remembrances, the violence of that parking lot stood in sharp contrast to the way loved ones described her: warm, dependable, and deeply woven into the people around her.
Investigators said from the beginning that they did not believe the shooting was random. Witnesses told deputies that the gunman was a man who fled on foot after firing, and Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office officials said they believed there was some kind of connection between Foy and the person who killed her. That detail gave the case an especially intimate and unsettling edge, suggesting not a stray act of violence but an encounter rooted in familiarity. Authorities publicly said they were working with her family, piecing evidence together, and hoping to make an arrest soon, while also warning that they wanted the gunman caught before he could hurt anyone else.
In the publicly available reporting I found, no suspect was named, and I did not find a later online news report or public record source showing an arrest, criminal charge, trial, or conviction in Foy’s killing. The most consistent public account remains that a male shooter ran from the scene on foot and that detectives continued to investigate, while her family waited for the kind of answer that turns a homicide from an open wound into a resolved case. The record left online is therefore a painful one: a woman arriving home, a burst of gunfire in the dark, neighbors trying to save her, and a case that, at least in the sources located here, does not appear to have reached a publicly documented arrest or courtroom ending.
