'I hope this brings everyone some peace because I could use some too,' says slain man's mother

Catherine Mazzucco stood in the darkness of the garage where her son lived. Almost every piece of furniture had been given to her son in repayment for jobs he’d done as a handyman. A red bicycle stood against the far wall, her son’s favorite.

She gripped the handlebars and lowered her head. A dark pink sheet hanging from the open garage door gave the grieving mother a few moments of privacy before she was called out to meet well-wishers on her front lawn.

“I haven’t really slept since he was killed,” Mazzucco said Thursday. “I hope this brings everyone some peace because I could use some too.”

Mazzucco awoke late Monday to a pounding on her door. Marcus McClendon, her overprotective 52-year-old son would have answered the door, but he had left 20 minutes before to hang out with buddies. A young man stood panting on her doorstep and returned her surprised look with pain in his eyes: Someone had shot Marcus.

"Jesus have mercy on my son," Mazzucco cried out, then began to walk the two blocks to the place where her son had fallen. Monique McClendon, Mazzucco’s youngest daughter, was driving to the scene when she spotted her mother. In the car together, they followed the panicked screams to where Marcus McClendon lay.

“Every night he would drive by my house and honk,” Monique McClendon, 45, said. “But that night he just sped right by. I knew something wasn’t right. Something had changed.”

Mazzucco jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop and ran toward her son.

“I was thinking that he was shot in the leg or something,” Mazzucco said. “But when I saw him, he was lying in his own blood.”

Shortly before midnight, McClendon and another man pulled up to a home in the 1600 block of West 65th Place in Harvard Park, according to LAPD Det. Chris Barling. Ten minutes later, a man walked up and began shooting.

McClendon was pronounced dead at the scene at 12:01 a.m. Tuesday, Aug. 18. The other man, who was wounded, was taken to a hospital and is expected to survive.

Police said Friday they are still looking for the shooter.

Family members, friends and neighbors greeted Mazzucco outside her house Thursday night for a peace walk to the spot where her son was slain. A mourning party of nearly 25 people slowly marched through the neighborhood, singing “Amazing Grace.”

People on the route came out of their homes; some who knew Marcus McClendon left their porches to join the march.

“He would do anything you ever needed,” said Cheri Dillard, who had known McClendon for 15 years. “I had just spoken to Marcus the day before, and he promised that he would come detail my car. He just wanted to help me out. He had such a kind heart.”

The group had grown to nearly 50 people as they turned from Denker Avenue onto West 65th Place. A dozen candles stood in front of the broken amplifier where he was sitting when the gunman opened fire.

Emotions were running high. 

"He died right there," wailed Wanda Randall, who knew Marcus McClendon for 14 years. A niece cried and shook violently. Then members of the crowd began to share memories.

“When we were kids, I used to hear the latest hits on the radio and call Marcus to tell him about it. And every time, he would already have it already recorded on a cassette for me,” Gregory Brockman, 52, said.

“I used to keep those cassettes in my pockets and feel so big and proud. I’ll never forget how he made me feel.”

Others mentioned his coarse yet endearing humor.

“Marcus might cuss you out from time to time, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t love you. He loved you even more,” Randall said. “He would get away with some wild stuff, but only he could do it because it was him, and we all loved him.”

Georgianne Amaya, 50, Marcus McClendon’s sister, remembered how her big brother would act as her chaperon on dates. The two were even together for a double date at Amaya’s prom.

“We even got married together on the same day at the same chapel in Vegas. I can’t even begin to imagine the void I’m gonna feel,” Amaya said.

As night fell, the crowd thinned. An ice cream truck passed the block playing “Silent Night.”

“I think I’m gonna get some sleep tonight,” Mazzucco said, closing her front door.

A small group stayed around the broken amplifier and continued to swap stories. They broke out in laughter, growing louder and making up for their friend’s missing voice.

Photos: (First) Catherine Mazzucco leads a group on a peace march to the site of the vigil for her son, Marcus McClendon, on Thursday. Credit: Marcus Yam / Los Angeles Times. (Second) Monique McClendon speaks at the vigil for her brother. Credit: Marcus Yam / Los Angeles Times. (Third) Marcus McClendon. Credit: Family photo. (Fourth) Mourners light candles for Marcus McClendon. Credit: Marcus Yam / Los Angeles Times

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