In June of 2013, 15-year-old Donald Ray Dokins was sentenced to 90 years to life for murder and attempted murder in connection with a gang shooting that took place in Watts, California. Dokins, a member of the Fudgetown Mafia Crips, was reportedly aiming for a rival gang member, Mauro Cortez, but instead struck and killed Cortez's 1-year-old son, Angel Cortez Nava, and injured the father.
The story is gruesome and heartbreaking. But unfortunately, it's far from unique.
This wasn’t the first time America watched a young boy take a life in the name of gang loyalty nor the first time a community was left grappling with grief and blame. Almost two decades earlier, in 1994, a similar tragedy occurred in Chicago, Illinois, one that shocked the nation and has remained a painful example of youth lost to violence.
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Donald Ray Dokins (16 yrs. old) turn to his lawyer after being sentence to 90 years – life for accidentally shooting a 1 year old boy in a gang shooting.
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Robert “Yummy” Sandifer: A Short Life, A Long Shadow
Before Donald Dokins, there was Robert “Yummy” Sandifer an 11-year-old boy caught up in the chaos of Chicago’s gang war. His story was immortalized in the powerful graphic novel, Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty, which I couldn’t put down and still recommend to this day.
Yummy’s upbringing was a recipe for disaster: he was raised by his grandmother, often in a crowded house with up to 19 other children. His mother was addicted to drugs, and his father was incarcerated. Abuse was a regular part of his early life—he was reportedly beaten and burned with cigarettes. He began racking up arrests at a very young age, yet kept getting released back into the same toxic environment.
In 1994, while trying to prove himself to the Black Disciples gang, Yummy opened fire at rival gang members in his neighborhood. Instead, he hit and killed 14-year-old Shavon Dean, an old friend. That one mistake launched a media frenzy. His photo round face, small frame, eyes full of pain was broadcast on every major network. The nation watched as police searched for a child killer.
Betrayed by His Own
Yummy went into hiding. Two fellow gang members, brothers Craig (16) and Derrick Hardaway (14), offered to take him to safety. But instead of helping him escape, they took him to a grassy underpass and shot him twice in the head on orders from their leaders.
Yummy was killed by the same gang he had tried to impress. Betrayed by the only family he knew.
Who’s to Blame?
After Yummy’s death, the blame game began:
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Neighbors blamed the abusive home and absent parents.
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The media blamed the state for repeatedly turning him loose after arrests.
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Judges blamed the laws that allowed gangs to exploit minors, knowing they couldn’t be tried as adults.
Was Yummy a monster? Or was he the result of a system that failed him again and again?
The Cycle Continues
Fast forward to 2013, and again in 2025, and the same headlines echo across American cities from Watts to West Philly. Recently in my hometown of Philadelphia, youth gun violence continues to take innocent lives:
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A fatal shooting during a music video shoot.
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A deadly incident in Upper Darby.
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A double shooting inside a West Philly corner store.
These aren’t just statistics. These are real children, caught in real cycles of violence and trauma. Boys like Donald and Yummy didn’t just wake up one day and decide to destroy lives. They were raised in communities riddled with poverty, neglect, abuse, and a total lack of resources where gangs become surrogate families, and guns become the only form of power.
Learning from the Past
I use Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty in my youth book club discussions as a powerful deterrent to gang culture and street violence. Teenagers relate to Yummy not because they’re violent, but because they understand pain, fear, and the hunger for belonging.
This book reminds them and us that the choices these boys made didn’t come from nowhere. And that if we don’t interrupt these cycles early with love, structure, resources, and mentorship then history will keep repeating itself.
Final Thoughts
Donald Ray Dokins. Robert “Yummy” Sandifer. Shavon Dean. Angel Cortez Nava.
These names tell a story—young lives lost, some to bullets, others to prison cells. If we don’t look beyond the crimes—if we fail to address the root causes, to support these kids before it’s too late—we’ll keep mourning more “Yummys,” more Donalds, more Angels.
It’s striking how some of these stories are from the past, yet they still resonate deeply with what’s happening today.
Let this be more than just another tragic story. Let it be a wake-up call.
Overall, this book is a classic.
— Mr. Philly Librarian
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