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Photos: Three Years of a Family’s Grief and Healing After a Fatal Police Shooting

Photographer Michael Indriolo documents an East Cleveland family’s search for peace after the 2021 police shooting of their 19-year-old brother.

Diamond Belmonte, Vincent Belmonte’s sister, protests Vincent’s killing in East Cleveland on March 5, 2021.

To Diamond Belmonte and her blended family of seven brothers, there is no “half” or “step.” Vincent Belmonte was just her brother, bright and loving with a knack for sports, gaming and growing vegetables. He dreamed of becoming a YouTuber and starting a business with his siblings to teach people in Cleveland how to tend their own gardens.

When he was fatally shot by a police officer in East Cleveland, Ohio, during an attempted traffic stop on January 5, 2021, Diamond and her siblings joined in a now familiar ritual. First they mourned, and then they marched to keep Vincent’s case in the spotlight. They reeled when authorities deemed his death justified, and learned to live on together as attention faded and their brother became one of 29 people killed in fatal police shootings in the state that year.

This article was published in partnership with Signal Cleveland.

I first met Diamond and her family at Vincent’s funeral and have followed them for more than three years, catching glimpses with my camera of the aftermath we rarely see: the struggle to balance grief with life’s responsibilities, the absence of a loved one, the fight to keep going despite newfound anxieties, the small epiphanies.

“With something that tragic, you really learn a different trauma response,” Diamond said. “And healing from that, it comes in different aspects, in different ways.”

A photo of a group of Black friends and family members around a table inside a home.

Vincent’s friends and family gather to celebrate his life in East Cleveland, a tiny, mostly Black suburb of Cleveland with a mostly White police force, after his funeral service on Jan. 23, 2021.

A photo of memorial flowers, candles and drinks on the ground outdoors.
A photo of a man and a woman standing beside memorial flowers, candles, drinks and balloons on the ground.
Flowers
and candles laid down by Vincent’s loved ones to create a memorial at the location of his death in East Cleveland.
On
April 20, 2021, about a dozen friends and family visited Vincent’s memorial. Diamond, alone, walked up to it and buried her face in her hands. Alondo Ivery, Vincent’s best friend, followed and put his arm around her.
A photo of a young Black man singing next to a car while two young women behind him dance and record from the porch of a house.

De’Jour Duckworth, Vincent’s brother, sings along to “Unreal,” a song he made about Vincent’s death, as it plays on car speakers at an East Cleveland home after Vincent’s funeral service on Jan. 23, 2021. “I don’t know what you want from me. Man, they took my brother. It got me shook, praying on my knees,” De’Jour sings in the song’s hook.

I first sat down to talk with De’Jour Duckworth, Vincent’s stepbrother, in February 2021. He told me he hadn’t been sleeping much. He’d lost 15 pounds in a month. Still, he smiled and laughed as he talked about his favorite memories of Vincent.

Then, De’Jour’s voice went low as he reminded himself that Vincent’s death wasn’t his fault. His last conversation with Vincent, a phone call two days before the shooting, weighed on him. He told Vincent to come spend some time away on the family’s farm about an hour south. Both 19 at the time, they were struggling to navigate the responsibilities of early adulthood and mental health challenges.

“I told him, like, ‘Bruh, your hurt gon’ be gone soon,’” De’Jour said. “I told him that, but it wasn’t like I was wishing death or anything … It's just, it's a lot to really process because, shit, like, the system took my brother.”

A photo of people holding signs with photos and phrases like “Long Live VDOE” in front of a podium.
A photo of a masked person standing on top of a white van during a protest.
Diamond
speaks at a protest against Vincent’s killing in East Cleveland on Feb. 5, 2021.
Later
at the same protest, Diamond led the crowd onto Euclid Avenue, the city’s main road. They blocked the street, and a protester jumped on top of a car as the driver stopped to avoid hitting the crowd.

Vincent’s loved ones were still reeling from his death at this point. Anger and pain hung in the air. As months passed, however, the protests became more like celebrations of Vincent’s life.

A photo of three people standing in the middle of a street filled with cars, holding a bag of green balloons as the sun is setting.

Diamond holds onto a bag of green balloons, Vincent’s favorite color, as she sets up to protest Vincent’s killing outside East Cleveland City Hall on March 5, 2021. After Vincent’s death, Diamond poured her time and money into organizing protests and asking for help from local activists, while she slept on couches and floors at friends’ houses.

For their protest on April 20, 2021, Vincent’s family decided against marching and chanting. This time, they bought dozens of flowers and handed them out to drivers passing by on Euclid Avenue.

Diamond remembered the way Vincent brightened up a room when he walked in. She told me she just wanted to carry on that legacy. She and her mother Nickey Duckworth waved bouquets and ran up to drivers when they stopped in the middle of the street. They told them the flowers were from Vincent.

A photo of a woman in a green hoodie holding up flowers toward a passing car.
A photo of a young Black man wearing a white hoodie and blue hat, pouring Hennessy into the mouth of another young Black man wearing a red hoodie.
Vincent’s
family hands out flowers to passing drivers on Euclid Avenue on April 20, 2021.
Darrion
Duckworth, Vincent’s brother, right, pours a shot of Hennessy into the mouth of his friend. After handing out flowers on the street, Vincent’s friends and family visited his memorial at the site of his death. It was quiet and heavy for a while, but as more people shared their favorite memories of Vincent, grief suddenly turned to celebration.

In October 2021, Ohio Attorney General Dave Yost announced that a Cuyahoga County grand jury declined to indict Larry McDonald, the East Cleveland police officer who fatally shot Vincent.

According to state investigators, McDonald tried pulling Vincent over for a loud muffler. Vincent sped off and crashed the car before running away on foot. McDonald told investigators that Vincent reached for a gun as he was running away. McDonald then fired his weapon, hitting Vincent several times.

McDonald said he accidentally turned off his body camera as he was chasing Vincent, so the exact details of the shooting remain unclear. Police found a gun in Vincent’s hoodie pocket. Yost concluded that McDonald’s use of deadly force was justified.

The news that McDonald would not be indicted for killing Vincent brought back waves of grief for his family. The decision came about a week before Halloween, so instead of protesting again, Diamond decided to organize a “trunk-or-treat” in Vincent’s name.

A photo of a Black woman wearing a bright green hoodie handing out candy to two children. One of the children is a Black boy dressed as a police officer while holding an orange Halloween bucket.

On Halloween, Diamond, along with a group of friends and local activists, parked their cars in the lot across from East Cleveland City Hall and handed out candy and groceries to families passing by.

A photo of a young Black woman sitting on a couch while listening to audio from her phone through wired headphones. A Black boy with a turquoise shirt is laying on the table in front of her.

Diamond listens to music while her nephew, Dominic Belmonte III, lays on a table in front of her in their Cleveland home on July 9, 2022. For the previous two years, Diamond helped raise Dominic III and his brother, Xavier Belmonte. “I’m Mama Diamond. I don’t have no kids, so growing up, basically my whole life, I’ve always put more into my brothers than anything else. It’s always been my worst fear to lose one of my brothers.”

After Vincent’s death, Diamond said she started having panic attacks. She developed anxiety so bad that she would pick “holes” in the skin on her face. Seeing police cars sometimes made her so angry and nervous that she couldn’t talk.

“Anytime I see police shootings or anything like that, I got to stay off social media, like, don't watch the news, certain things just to protect me because some things just literally take me to a high anxiety,” she said.

A photo of a green blanket with family photos and text is draped over the back of a couch.

Vincent’s family still carries him with them on T-shirts and blankets. On July 9, 2022, Diamond draped this blanket printed with pictures of her and Vincent over the couch in her living room.

A photo of a young Black woman, wearing a shirt with a photo of a Black man. The woman is holding up and brushing a wig.
A photo of a Black boy with a turquoise shirt looking into the camera while leaning against a wall.
Diamond
brushes out a wig for her mother on July 9, 2022 as they get ready to protest against the killing of Jayland Walker, a young Black man fatally shot by police in Akron, Ohio.
Dominic
III poses for a portrait on July 9, 2022.
A photo of a young Black woman with sunglasses walking during a protest while holding a sign with a picture of a pig and the word “PUNKS.”

Diamond marches in a protest for Jayland Walker on July 9, 2022. Local activists leading the protest invited Diamond to speak about losing Vincent. In 2024, I asked Diamond what people misunderstand about those who’ve lost loved ones to police violence. “Everybody’s situation is different,” she answered. “The only thing we got in common was the police killed somebody from our family.”

A photo of a young Black woman wearing a black shirt with a photo of her brother and speaking with a reporter holding up a microphone.

A WKYC reporter interviews Diamond during a protest against the killing of Jayland Walker in Akron, Ohio on July 9, 2022.

McDonald, the officer who shot Vincent, was back in the news in 2023 when he resigned. At the time, he was one of 18 current and former East Cleveland officers indicted in an investigation into public corruption and civil rights violations. McDonald, for his part, was charged with lying about his role in a pursuit that resulted in a crash. In April, he was again indicted in a separate crash that was fatal. He pleaded not guilty and told me he did not have a comment on his ongoing case.

Even though McDonald wasn’t indicted for killing Vincent, Diamond and her family believe their protests helped shed light on systemic issues at the East Cleveland police.

A diptych shows a photo of a Black man holding a framed photo of his brother on the left, and a photo of the same man with two young Black children looking at framed photographs on the right.

Dominic Belmonte Jr. holds a picture of his brother Vincent Belmonte on May 26, 2024. Dominic Jr., now 28 years old, said he taught Vincent how to grow tomatoes, collard greens, zucchinis and watermelon on the family farm. Vincent took to it. They dreamed of starting an agricultural business together to teach people in Cleveland how to start their own gardens. “One day, I told him, ‘If you can facilitate life, life will facilitate you,’” Dominic Jr. said. “I kind of feel like my philosophy let him down.”

I joined the family for a Memorial Day cookout this year at Diamond’s house. She kept a close eye on a rack of ribs on the grill as she told me how Vincent’s death changed her relationships with her brothers.

“I thought I knew all my brothers,” she said. “I realized, after Vinny died, I didn't know none of them for real, not like how I thought I did. And then I got to spend time with everyone for real, like the one-on-ones. That made me appreciate our relationships a bit more.”

This year has been a little better for Diamond.

“Even after everything, I still got PTSD,” Diamond said. “For the first two-and-a-half to three years, I didn't really come outside like that. This is the first year that I've been like, really outside living more like a normal person.”

A photo of a green blanket with family photos and text hanging up near a bed with yellow pillows.

Diamond hung the blanket printed with photos of her and Vincent next to her bed. The center of the blanket reads, “Our siblings are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk.”

A photo of a Black woman with blonde hair putting together a plate of food from trays on a dining table.

Diamond, now 27 years old, prepares plates of food for her family during a Memorial Day cookout on May 26, 2024.

A photo of a Black woman with blonde hair and a tattoo of a young Black man on her calf. The woman is sitting on porch steps and talking to a young Black man, who is standing. An older White man is standing on the porch behind her.

Dominic Belmonte Sr., Diamond and Vincent’s best friend Alondo Ivery hang out on the porch of their Cleveland home on May 26, 2024. On Diamond’s right leg is a black and green tattoo of Vincent.

Diamond’s birthday falls just a few days after Vincent’s, so she celebrates him each year at her own birthday parties. Vincent would have turned 23 this year. She will still have a party for him, she said, but she wants to celebrate herself, too.

“It's okay to be grieving,” Diamond said. “But how long will you let grief overcome you? You will become grief. You will be sad about everything. You will be depressed. It will change you. You won't even know who you are by the end of it. And at some point, do you love that person more than you love you? You still got to live. Life doesn't stop. You just got to relearn it a different way.”