Felix Lares, a 24-year-old Hispanic man from Chicago, was killed on May 11, 2012, in a shooting that unfolded in the Little Village neighborhood on the city’s Southwest Side. That night, he was standing in a gangway in the 2700 block of South Homan Avenue when, according to contemporary police reporting, a gunman stepped out of a light-colored pickup truck and opened fire. The attack was sudden and brutal. Lares was struck in the head and chest, and by 9:42 p.m.
he was pronounced dead at the scene. In the chaos of a violent weekend across Chicago, his death became one more line in the city’s grim tally, but the sparse public details make the moment feel even colder: a man standing outside, a vehicle pulling up, shots fired, and a life ending almost instantly.
What emerges from the available public record is only a partial portrait, but it is enough to sketch the outline of a young man whose death rippled through family and community. Obituary information identifies him as a Chicago resident born on February 15, 1988, and remembers him as the son of Alejandro Lares Sr. and Martha Seija, and the brother of Martha Lares. He was mourned in funeral services held days later in Chicago, where relatives and loved ones gathered to bury someone who had died far too young. That contrast is striking in cases like this: the public record reduces the event to a few hard facts of time, place, and injuries, while the family record quietly reveals the human cost left behind.
As for the investigation, the publicly available information is thin. The shooter was described only as an unidentified gunman who emerged from a light-colored pickup truck before opening fire. In the online sources available, there is no publicly documented arrest tied to Felix Lares’s killing, no named suspect, and no visible record of charges, trial proceedings, or conviction connected to his death. Based on the sources that can be found, the case appears to remain unresolved in the public eye, with the identity of the person who killed him still unannounced or unproven in reporting. That leaves his story suspended in the familiar and painful space of so many city homicides: a precise moment of violence, a devastated family, and no public sense that justice ever fully caught up.
