‘I’m ready to be better’: Teen who killed two asks for forgiveness from victims’ families at sentencing

First, the mothers hugged each other, bonded by the deaths of their sons.

Then, they embraced the parents of the young man who killed them.

» READ MORE: Gun violence killed her only child. She’s starting over in Montana.

Inside a Philadelphia courtroom Thursday, the families gathered for the sentencing of Troy Fletcher, who was 15 when he and his friends shot and killed two teens in September 2022.

First, Fletcher and the others opened fire on Tahmir Jones, 19, outside his North Philadelphia home, striking him at least 20 times and sending bullets flying through his family’s front door.

Then, the following afternoon, Fletcher and five other young men jumped into a car and headed up to Roxborough High School, on the hunt for a 17-year-old enemy. They ended up firing more than 60 shots into a crowd of high school football players leaving a scrimmage. Nicolas Elizalde, 14, was struck in the chest, and died within minutes, in the arms of his mother. Four other teens were wounded.

“These were broad-daylight assassinations,” said Assistant District Attorney Ashley Toczylowski, who prosecuted the case.

Fletcher, now 17, was the second gunman scheduled to be sentenced in the case after Zyhied Jones was handed 30 to 60 years for his role in the killings. Zyhied Jones and Fletcher pleaded guilty, while the three others charged in the case are scheduled to go to trial this fall. One gunman remains at large.

On Thursday, Tahmir Jones’ mother, Theresa Guyton, went into the hearing somewhat angry, overwhelmed thinking about how much her son had overcome before he was violently taken.

After the back-to-back killings of Jones’ older brother and younger stepbrother in 2020, she said, Jones dropped out of high school and fell into a depression.

It took two years for Guyton to persuade him to return to school. By September 2022, he had finally earned his GED, and was working with YouthBuild, a construction apprenticeship program, to kick-start a career building homes.

But on Sept. 26, for reasons police said remain unclear, Fletcher and two others killed him.

Tatyana Jones, 27, said her younger brother’s death doesn’t feel real. With two brothers dead, and two serving lengthy jail sentences, she is the only of her mother’s five children who is left.

“It’s just me,” she said. “It gets quiet. It gets lonely. It’s dark.”

Nicolas Elizalde’s family spoke next, sharing some of the same sentiments they expressed at Zyhied Jones’ sentencing. Marge LaRue spoke of her grandson’s gentle soul and civic interests, how he marched for social and racial justice issues, and advocated against violence.

His aunt spoke of the pain her family will feel as they watch the Eagles’ Super Bowl parade on Friday — a moment they shared with Nick in 2018. It’s a memory she finds herself grasping to hold onto, she said.

“I have this fear that in my older age, I’ll lose my memory,” she said. “But without those memories, what will there be?”

Then, Meredith Elizalde spoke of her son’s life and legacy, and asked that Fletcher be allowed to live a piece of his life free so that he could one day join her in honoring Nick.

“Nick’s earthly life is over,” she said, “but he is alive in all of those he continues to touch, including Mr. Fletcher.”

Fletcher’s attorney, Marni Jo Snyder, then spoke of the now-17-year-old’s life before he ended two.

He grew up in a challenging part of North Philadelphia, she said, and while his father spent eight years of his childhood in prison, he was actively engaged in his son’s life as a teen.

Fletcher struggled with his mental health from a young age, she said, and started harming himself at age 9. He sought psychiatric treatment at 12, before the pandemic shuttered the program.

During the shutdown, she said, his parents struggled to find him behavioral support. He attended a program in Florida for a few months before returning to Philadelphia in 2022 because he did not qualify for mandatory inpatient treatment.

“He wasn’t in trouble enough,” Troy Fletcher said of his son and namesake.

Kempis Songster, who does restorative justice work with the Philadelphia District Attorney’s Office, spoke of Fletcher’s potential for redemption.

Songster said that he, too, had shot and killed someone at 15, and that if not for the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to overturn mandatory juvenile life sentences, he would still be in prison. Now, he is a father and husband, and works to heal families affected by crime — work he said he sees in Fletcher’s future.

“I believe he, if given the chance … will become an agent for change to other young people on the verge of committing violence,” Songster told the judge.

Finally, Fletcher turned to speak. He apologized to his victims’ families and said he has spent every day since the shooting thinking about what he had done, and “the kind of man I want to become.”

“This is not just about freedom,” he said. “This is about taking responsibility for my actions. … I am ready to be better.”

After testimony was complete, Common Pleas Court Judge Barbara McDermott said that if Fletcher were an adult, he would be sentenced to 40 to 80 years. But she said she was moved by the day’s testimony, particularly Songster’s, and also considered Fletcher’s age.

She sentenced him to 25 to 50 years in prison.

“You have been given, in this court’s mind, a gift,” the judge said.

After the hearing, Fletcher’s relatives mingled with those of Elizalde and Jones, and shared apologies. Guyton lingered on the words of Fletcher’s mother, Aquilla Walker, and her struggle to keep her son away from guns and violence.

“I know how hard it is to fight to keep them out of trouble,” she said of having sons in Philadelphia. “I felt everything she felt and more.”

“I can see the forgiveness,” she said. “I’m just not there quite yet.”

In the hallway of the court, Fletcher’s father approached Meredith Elizalde and asked whether he could one day join her in honoring her son’s life — the one his son had taken.

Yes, she said, and they hugged.

After all that had been said in and out of court Thursday — all the anger, grief, hope, and pain — perhaps Fletcher’s mother said it best.

“Even in the darkest moments,” she said, “there can be glimpses of humanity, of grace, of the possibility for redemption.”