MARK DONALDSON CALLED THE POLICE AT 5:34 A.M. ON AUGUST 14, 2020. HE NEVER SAW THE PERSON WHO STOLE THE BICYCLE, THE ELECTRIC SAW, AND THE GAS-POWERED WEED WACKER FROM THE BACKYARD OF HIS HOUSE IN EAST DENVER. HE REMEMBERS LOOKING OUT HIS KITCHEN WINDOW EARLY THAT MORNING; HE REMEMBERS HOW THE FIRST TRICKLE OF LIGHT WAS FILTERING ONTO HIS DIRT-AND-GRASS LAWN, ILLUMINATING THE CHAIN-LINK FENCE, THE ALLEYWAY, AND THE BROKEN PADLOCK DANGLING FROM THE GATE. ¶ “WELL, SHIT,” HE THOUGHT TO HIMSELF.
In the hierarchy of criminal behavior, the thefts were hardly notable: The haul—including the cost of the broken metal lock—totaled around $2,000. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic and social-distancing rules, a Denver police officer took the incident report over the phone. “[Donaldson] related that this is the second break in, in the last two weeks,” the report noted. “[Donaldson] related that he does not have video cameras on site and the homeless population in his area has grown considerably. [Donaldson] related that the homeless are a contributer [sic] to the theft of items from his residence and in the surrounding area.” Denver police didn’t make any arrests in the case, and Donaldson’s possessions were never found.
When his wife, Denise, took a job in Denver as a traveling nurse in 2017, Donaldson knew this East Colfax neighborhood might have some issues. The house was a few blocks off the main artery, which has long been notorious for nefarious activity. Still, the neighborhood was ethnically and socioeconomically diverse, something that was important to the couple. Cute, low-slung homes with grassy front yards dotted the streets. As a Black family living in a majority white city, they found the neighborhood comfortable, progressive, untapped.
Donaldson, 42, had always accepted the transient population as part of the fabric of the community. He’d been mindful about teaching his preschool-age daughter to respect those living on the fringes of society, to never judge anyone who needed help. He’d be working from his desk in the family room when he’d look out the window and see people walking shopping carts down the street. He’d give a little nod to the seemingly drunken men who sometimes passed by his home.
But life changed in 2020 with the onset of the pandemic: There was illness, unemployment, uncertainty, and death. There were sharp increases in drug and alcohol abuse and mental health crises. The population of people experiencing homelessness grew.
Between the August 14, 2020, break-in at Donaldson’s house and late December 2021, nine people were murdered within the 16 blocks that make up the neighborhood—just one fewer than in the previous 30
