The killing stunned Edward's 120 middle school classmates at ConneXions Community Leadership Academy in Northwest Baltimore, where the youth was a bright, popular eighth-grader, said Rodney Powell, co-director of the school.
Students learned of his death at a morning assembly, where tearful classmates shared their memories of Edward, a natural leader among his peers as well as a gifted basketball player who loved martial arts and boxing. Throughout the day, students made sympathy cards and decorated his locker with photographs and phrases of admiration.
"He definitely had a big personality," said Powell, who taught Edward sixth-grade history at the tight-knit school. "He was very personable, funny, likable and athletic. All the kids thought he was cool. He was well-liked by the staff as well."
Child welfare court orders reviewed by The Sun show that a boy with Edward's name and date of birth was in and out of juvenile court custody hearings for much of his life.
The court orders state that child protective services removed Edward from his mother's care when he was 10. About a year later, the orders show, Edward was admitted to a hospital for psychiatric treatment. He was then placed with a family friend who was a licensed foster parent.
A child welfare court order dated Jan. 25, 2005, when Edward was 11, says that he had perfect attendance in the fifth grade, despite a diagnosis as "emotionally disturbed." The order also says he was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder. His mother, the orders say, was sporadically involved in Edward's life and needed drug treatment, and his father was in a Hagerstown prison.
But by April 4, 2005, at age 12, Edward appears to have been living with his mother again at an Ocala Avenue apartment. Child protective services again took custody of him when his mother was accused of assaulting a woman.
Based on evidence collected so far, police do not think the Bethune Road killings are linked. But they have few leads in either case, and neighborhood residents have been reluctant to offer details.
"People aren't being very forthcoming," said Monroe. "We want to remind people they can remain anonymous. Any information would be great."
Munson said she's not surprised neighbors are tight-lipped, since many have grown distrustful of authorities or are scared of retribution if they speak out. The lifelong Cherry Hill resident has grown so frustrated with the neighborhood gangs that she wants to move out.
