Who? Two years ago, Denise Swisher was living a quiet life as a single mother of four children. But in May 2006, after someone shot and killed her 18-year-old son, Forbes "P-Nut" Swisher, she began a one-woman crusade to end violence in St. Petersburg's toughest neighborhoods.
Sphere of influence: Since her son's death, Swisher, 37, has counseled hundreds of teens, convincing them to put down guns and gang rivalries. Her passion has prompted numerous churches and youth organizations to renew their efforts against street violence.
How she makes a difference: Swisher's rapport with neighborhood kids allows her to prevent violence before it happens. Youth regularly call or stop by her Childs Park home when they hear about a fight or vendetta between different gangs. Swisher mediates the dispute herself before guns are ever drawn. Despite frequent hospitalizations due to complications from asthma and diabetes, Swisher never turns her "kids" away.
CL: Tell me a little bit about P-Nut.
Swisher: Aw man, he was the greatest. Anybody that knew P-Nut loved P-Nut. He was guaranteed to make you smile. He was voted "Prettiest Smile" in the yearbook. He was just full of life. He had so much energy, you know. He just stood out, you know what I mean? They took so much away from me when they ended his life. He was just so eager to go on. He had just graduated from high school two weeks before he died, and he was going to Bethune Cookman College. He used to always talk about the things he was going to accomplish, you know. … I miss my son every minute of every day.
How did your work with youth begin?
I started going door to door handing out fliers, [trying to help solve] my son's murder. After that, kids would just come over trying to console me, and I'd dig deep and find they had problems, too.
How are you able to reach these kids when their parents, the police and teachers cannot?
They come to me because they know I'm going to tell the truth. I'm not going to turn my back on them. Because I've proven myself. I've gone to court three times this week with three individuals, you know, and sat in courtroom, and there are no mommas or daddies there. … These kids trust me because I have not given them a reason not to trust me. They know when they call me I'm there.
… These are kids nobody wants to be bothered with. These are the kids you roll up your windows and pray to God they go away, you know. I tell them all the time: "My door's open. If I'm not home, my door is open. If you ever need a safe haven, go there. Call me and I'll be there."
Just a month after your son's death, at a time when many people would have grieved in private, you went door to door to campaign against violence. Why?
Because I remember sitting back and wondering about all these children [that] have died. There are just way too many mothers that I've gone to on a daily basis that have lost their sons to violence. And I'm thinking, "Why isn't anybody angry?" Because I'm pissed off my son is gone. … I have to feel like my son died for a purpose, you know what I mean? And maybe that purpose is saving someone else's life.
Give me a few situations in which you saved lives.
I got one young man. He came to the hospital real late at night and said, "I'm gonna kill this nigga." And I talked him out of it.
And then there's one young man who did shoot another, and the one that he shot wanted retaliation. I brought those two together in my home. Both of them sitting there packin', both of them with guns, you know what I'm saying? But it was squashed. They can walk past each other right to this day and nothing.
What gives you the gumption to just walk up to drug dealers and gang members and dialogue with them?
I tell people all the time I had to confront my biggest fear, which was burying my child. So there is nothing in this world that I'm afraid of anymore.
Those are my kids. I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna save them. I don't want to see another child die. That's my biggest fear.
Does P-Nut's murder remain unsolved?
The police have a suspect, but we need witnesses to come forward to say they actually seen what happened. I know there were people out there that actually seen that young man shoot my son in the head. … And I'll support whomever comes forward 110 percent, and I have 100 others that will support him.
There are so many programs in Childs Park, and yet it seems you're making such a difference going at it alone.
I don't have set hours. I do this every day. I talk to these youth every day. It's just not like, you know, "OK, let's do it Saturday." It's an everyday thing. I love these kids. I truly love these kids. There is nothing I wouldn't do for them.
A lot of people in the community, they're like "OK, we are going to do this, and we're going to organize this." And these kids are like, "Who in the hell are these people?" And I appreciate the little bit that they do, but if you're serious about it, [talking to kids] should just come natural to you.
What would P-Nut say if he saw you now?
My momma's crazy. [Laughs]
This article appears in Nov 21-27, 2007.