On the evening of February 10, 1992, Errol Jones, 25, a Black man from Denver, found himself standing near a car wash at the corner of East 34th Avenue and Colorado Boulevard. He was surrounded by friends and everyday life when suddenly a gunshot rang out. In the chaos that followed, Errol realized he had been struck. Those nearby rushed him into a vehicle and sped to a local hospital, hoping medical care could save him.
But the wounds proved fatal, and he died from the gunshot injuries that night.
In the days and years that followed, investigators with the Denver Police Department Cold Case Unit filed Errol’s case under case number 92-49413. They documented his height at 6'0", weight at about 160 lbs, and his last known location at the car-wash site. Although his name, age, race and basic incident details are logged, the narrative carries painful gaps: no suspect has been publicly identified, no arrest made, and no motive revealed. The details remain stark and silent—friends who carried him to the hospital, an anonymous shooter, a community left without answers.
For Errol’s family, friends and the community that knew him, the loss has left a lingering ache. He was just 25—standing in a familiar spot, among familiar faces—when violence reached across and snatched him away. The passage of time has not dimmed the memory of that evening, yet justice remains elusive. Investigators continue to accept tips from the public, hoping someone will remember something: a vehicle seen nearby, a voice overheard, or a hint of recognition that connects a name to this nameless act. Until that moment arrives, Errol’s life and death dwell in the quiet space of an unsolved case, a young man lost too soon, and a promise of closure we still await.
