Who shot Elgin Davis?
There are a few people who know the answer to that question, but no one is talking.
Antwon “Twond” Davis, one of Elgin’s six older siblings, wants to know why anyone would shoot the affable, fun loving father of nine children on his 34th birthday two years ago, Oct. 22, 2020.
The night he died, Elgin left his place of employment in Berne with a coworker around 4 p.m., according to information Davis stores. They headed to a party at a home on Werling Drive on the city’s south side. He only planned to spend a couple of hours there, he told his fiancé.
Around 11:20 p.m. that night, Elgin left the home in the 4600 block of Werling Drive and was shot outside, collapsing in the roadway with “blood everywhere.” Responding officers found him face down and one officer wrote that as he held his head, he saw blood coming from the base, a police report said.
One officer was told by the officer in charge of the scene, Sgt. Shannon Hughes, to put one of the direct witnesses into his squad car and take his phone as “he continued to make phone calls and cross into the crime scene.” After he spoke with officers, he was released with his phone, the report said.
A large crowd started to form as police spoke to the woman who called 911 after she drove her car by and saw a man lying down in the roadway, the report says. Officers made contact with people inside number 4602 and another man was identified as a potential witness.
The fact people witnessed what went down consumes Elgin’s big brother, Antwon “Twond” Davis. Aside from police, he is conducting his own investigation.
“Knowing it was a party and nobody saw anything?” Davis asks incredulously. “It was a house full of people. He was killed outside in the street. Like they all know, but they won’t talk.”
FWPD homicide sergeant David Klein says it may appear to be a cold case, but information gathering isn’t over.
“Just because it’s turned into a cold case, it’s still active and there’s still work to be done,” Klein told WANE 15. “There’s a specific detective assigned to them. If they get information, if they get leads, if they get follow-up information, somebody to speak to, they will absolutely go do that.”
Out of the city’s 42 homicides in 2020, Elgin’s was number 41, and one of six that hasn’t been cleared.
Davis knew someone had been shot that night when a cousin called him to say “check on your baby,” meaning one of his children who lived with his mother near where shots were fired.
Then his cousin got another call to say that Elgin was the one who got shot. Shock set in.
That birthday morning, “Twond” had called Elgin.
“Why you working on your birthday?” Davis asked.
“Got to get that money,” Elgin replied. Davis recalled that he promised they’d do something big for Elgin’s 35th.
It was the first voice text Davis had ever sent and one he’ll keep forever.
Elgin, known as “Slick 80,” was cherished by his family. Davis said he’d been out of trouble “for years,” was “getting himself back into church,” and had started to participate in the community, including coaching Metro football. He was a graduate of Paul Harding High School.
“We did almost everything together,” Davis said. “Our family is tight knit. Ain’t no stepbrothers, ain’t no stepsisters.” A point of pride is their parents, Lonnie and Sandra Davis, have been married to each other for nearly 51 years.
Family trips Davis remembers included Pokagon State Park and Cedar Point.
Elgin held backyard barbecues at his home during the COVID-19 pandemic, and sometimes camp outs. He made the best pot roast, Davis said. The friendly competition among the five Davis boys was who was the best cook.
Now there are nine children without a father.
“He kept his kids together,” Davis said. “They were all in his life.”
His fiancee, Camellia Mendez, and sister, Amitra “Nitra” Davis, work with Davis on the case.
Mendez got to the scene at the Maple Grove intersection and saw Elgin’s body at the side of the road.
“That’s where he dropped. His feet were between the pavement and the grass,” Mendez said. The man who drove Elgin to the party was talking to police. Later he apparently said he was napping in his car when his friend was shot in the head.
Mendez found out how he died by reading the police report. She also found out that no one inside 4602 Werling Ave. called 911. It was a passerby who saw Elgin lying there.
“As far as we know, when I arrived on the scene, he was on the side of the road, face down, as if he was walking from that house,” Mendez said.
She came to the scene from the Maple Grove Avenue side and saw someone in the “cop car” speaking with police.
She tried to tell police the victim was her fiance, but they “kind of pushed me back,” she said, something police protocol often calls for. She talked to them about tracking Elgin’s phone as if it might still be inside the party home.
“You could see they were at the door. They would shut the door and then they’d open the door. They had the light off and at one point it came on,” Mendez said, reliving the horrible night.
Elgin coached their son in Metro football, a sport the son continues to play, Mendez said. Although he doesn’t want to talk about what happened to his father, he’s a “good kid,” and is a good student.
“Ultimately we want justice to be served,” she said.
To work through his grief, Twond bought a 1986 Pontiac Grand Prix, built the same year Elgin was born. Both of them had a passion for classic cars. In the passenger seat there is a Indiana number 7 jersey because he was the seventh child.
He keeps a shadowbox with Elgin’s photo on the seat, as the photo keeping him alive.
“Me and my family are just coming together right now because we want answers, as to why he was murdered and who murdered him,” Davis said in August. “We’re at our wit’s ends. I feel like my mother needs to know. I feel like we should know as a family. We should know what happened.. Whoever is behind this, I feel like they should come forward and be held accountable for it.”
“It’s hard for us to talk about it,“ says Ashley Moore, Elgin’s niece, but close in age. “It’s like unbearable pain” Elgin was the guy who made everyone laugh and ended his jokes with ‘love is love. Feliz Navidad.’ You could never tell when he had a bad day.
“We want answers badly,” Moore says. “Those were his friends, so we thought “ The people who know what went on “go on happy about their day when this family is grieving. He has nine kids. Every day is a struggle for us, for sure. “
If you know something, say something. Call the Fort Wayne detective bureau at 427-1222.