Chelsea St. Renamed for Richard Henderson, Crossing Guard Killed While Breaking Up Fight

The corner of W. 26th St. and 10th Ave. has been named after the beloved Avenues The World School crossing guard Richard Henderson, just over eight months after he was tragically killed on a Manhattan-bound No. 3 train in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Crown Heights.

The 45-year-old was trying to act as a peacemaker between two fighting subway passengers when one shot him, according to the authorities, who have yet to apprehend anybody in connection with his death. They believe that the gunman’s bullet may not have been intended for Henderson. The shooter reportedly fled into the night at the Franklin Avenue stop, under the borough’s Eastern Parkway.

A broad array of Henderson’s family, friends, and admirers crowded together during a bittersweet September 26 ceremony. Umbrellas were everywhere, given the consistent patter of morning rain.

“We want to pay tribute to his life,” Avenues Head of School Jeff Clark noted. Henderson, he said, was something of a hero to the students that he guided safely towards the classroom every day: “He connected to them, he cared about them, and high-fived them. He did it with such warmth.”

City Council Member Erik Bottcher, who represents the neighborhood, spoke next. Describing Henderson as a “legend” that “always had a smile on his face,” Bottcher pointedly said that “Richie died doing what he spent his life doing: helping people.”

“That act of senseless violence is the antithesis of what he stood for. He would often step up to bullies, on behalf of those that wouldn’t,” Bottcher added.

Kym Ward Gaffney, who works as the Vice President of Leadership and Inclusion at Avenues–and sends her sons, John and James, there–became emotional as she described her daily interactions with Henderson. Gaffney and “Mr. Richard” would banter about everything from the latest NFL games to the Black Panther film series.

However, he was especially attentive to the personal growth and interests of her children. It sent them the message that “you matter,” Gaffney said. ”I recall us having such deep conversations with him when I crossed the street. A parent once asked me if Richard was my kids’s uncle. I replied: ‘Actually, he’s everybody favorite uncle.’”

Ian, a seventh grader, followed Gaffney. “Richie always wanted to know what was going in my life. He was never disrespectful...when I graduated from elementary school, a big milestone, he was there. He mattered so much so me.”

Then, Henderson’s bereaved siblings–Jermaine, Earl, and Kamika–stepped up to the podium. Jermaine said that the death of his brother has been “a lot to process,” and that Richard reminded him that “we can always make it. We’re somebody. People love us.”

In a heartbreaking moment, Earl choked back sobs as he expressed disbelief that he was still “talking to my brother in the past tense.” He then took a few deep breaths before concluding that “if I know my brother, I’d know that he’d want this to be a joyous occasion. I want to thank everybody for coming out.”

Finally, a string was tugged, and the “Richie’s Corner” sign was revealed. Everybody burst out in applause. A spirited student band began to play a bright tune, in a fitting testament to Henderson’s mission of bringing cheer to seemingly everybody who encountered him.