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Lil Durk Facing Wrongful Death Lawsuit Due To Alleged Role In Death Of Quando Rondo's Cousin

Lil Durk Facing Wrongful Death Lawsuit Due To Alleged Role In Death Of Quando Rondo's Cousin

Yahoo26-02-2025
Lil Durk is already on the legal hot seat, currently sitting behind bars on charges of conspiracy to commit murder-for-hire. Now, he is facing a wrongful death lawsuit for his alleged role in the death of Quando Rondo's cousin.
Lil PAB, whose real name was Saviay'a Robinson, was caught in the crossfire of an attempt to kill Quando Rondo and lost his life. His mother, Andrea Laquila Robinson, believes that Durk put the entire plot together to kill PAB, according to Chicago Sun-Times. She has also accused the entire OTF label, an anonymous business manager, and an anonymous management company of all being involved.
'The premature loss of Mr. Robinson has devastated his family and community,' her attorney wrote to the publication. 'We filed this lawsuit to hold those responsible accountable and to ensure his family receives the support they need during this difficult time.'
Lil Durk's trial for conspiracy to commit murder-for-hire was originally set to begin on Jan. 7 but has been pushed back to Oct. 14, according to Legal Affairs & Trials reporter Meghann Cuniff. Cuniff has been many people's go-to source for all Hip-Hop legal matters due to her work during Megan Thee Stallion's shooting trial, Diddy's legal ordeals, and A$AP Rocky's felony assault trial.
The trial has been delayed because prosecutors in the case reportedly have 'approximately 230 GB of digital evidence' to sift through, which includes audio and video recordings, surveillance footage, and 'approximately 20,000 pages' of reports detailing 'murder and other violent acts, photographs, witness statements, and medical documents.'
According to Cuniff, one of Durk's co-defendants Asa 'Boogie' Houston has been pushing back against the delay, and another co-defendant, Deandre Dontrell Wilson, may take a plea deal. Durk was denied bond due to his alleged pattern of criminal behavior, not following rules while behind bars, and newly unsealed information revealing claims that he funded the January 2022 shooting of Stephon Mack, alleged leader of the Smashville faction of GD (Gangster Disciples). Durk has yet to be charged for that as the investigation is ongoing.
More from VIBE.com
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Gunna's Attorney Asserts He Didn't Snitch On Young Thug
Lil Durk's Murder-For-Hire Trial Postponed To October Due To "Unusual And Complex" Circumstances
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Inside the tragedy that silenced a soul legend: Marvin Gaye's last fight with his father
Inside the tragedy that silenced a soul legend: Marvin Gaye's last fight with his father

Los Angeles Times

time2 hours ago

  • Los Angeles Times

Inside the tragedy that silenced a soul legend: Marvin Gaye's last fight with his father

By the time 44-year-old Marvin Gaye moved into the big, rambling house with his parents on South Gramercy Place, his cocaine habit was severe and his paranoia was deep. Enemies were conspiring against him, he feared. He gave his father a .38-caliber revolver. To protect the house, he said. He had come full-circle from childhood, to live with his mother, who adored him, and his disapproving father, who would kill him. It was 1984. It might have been a period of triumph for the vocalist known as the King of Sensual Soul. The year before, he had finally won two Grammy Awards after decades of nominations. At the NBA All-Star Game in Inglewood, he had delivered a slowed-down, funkified version of the Star Spangled Banner that redefined the national anthem. He had broken free from Motown, his longtime label, with a hit comeback album, 'Midnight Love,' and one of his signature songs, 'Sexual Healing.' Suave tenor, restless risk-taker, longtime sex symbol with an elegant-playboy persona, Gaye had an otherworldly voice. His falsetto found new registers of rapture and longing. His songs married carnality and spirituality, with an echo of the little boy singing in the gospel choir of his father's church. 'My daddy was a minister,' Gaye said, 'and so when I began to sing it was for him.' Growing up in a slum of Washington, D.C., he had inherited his father's harsh Pentecostal Christianity and his notions of discipline, heaven and hell. There was little tenderness in his relationship with Marvin Gay Sr., a jealous man who drank hard and dressed in women's clothes, a habit that embarrassed the young singer. They were at war from the start. The father beat the son regularly, and scorned nonreligious music as the devil's work. 'My husband never wanted Marvin,' the singer's mother, Alberta, told a biographer. 'And he never liked him. He used to say that he didn't think he was really his child. I told him that was nonsense. He knew Marvin was his. But for some reason, he didn't love Marvin and, what's worse, he didn't want me to love Marvin either. Marvin wasn't very old before he understood that.' In 'Divided Soul: The Life of Marvin Gaye' by David Ritz, Gaye describes his father as 'a very peculiar, changeable, cruel, and all-powerful king,' adding: 'Even though winning his love was the ultimate goal of my childhood, I defied him. I hated his attitude. I thought I could win his love through singing, so I sang my heart out.' Gaye noticed his jealousy. 'I realized my voice was a gift of God and had to be used to praise Him,' Gaye said, but his father 'hated it when my singing won more praise than his sermons.' Even as he grew bigger than his father, Gaye would recall, the violence continued. 'I wanted to strike back, but where I come from, even to raise your hand to your father is an invitation for him to kill you.' It was a volatile relationship, Ritz told the Times in a recent interview, and a complicated one. 'The man who beat him also led him to God,' Ritz said. To escape him, the singer dropped out of high school and joined the Air Force, then faked a mental breakdown and won an honorable discharge. He dreamed of being the Black Frank Sinatra. He found a surrogate father in Berry Gordy, the founder of Motown, and became an architect of the famous Motown sound. His 1968 version of 'I Heard It Through the Grapevine,' a song about a man tormented by rumors of his lover's infidelity, was a No. 1 hit. Gaye drew inspiration from his disintegrating marriage to Gordy's sister. His father hated work. His mother rose at 5 to clean rich people's houses. When Gaye started making money to provide for her, it became another source of resentment between father and son. Against resistance from Motown, he gambled with the self-written, self-produced 'What's Going On,' the radical 1971 concept album that launched him into the stratosphere. (Rolling Stone has called it the greatest album of all time.) His social commentary encompassed war, protests, ghetto life, police brutality, pollution, and nuclear holocaust. Inspired by his brother Frankie, he sang about a struggling soldier back from Vietnam. And he sang, 'Father father/ We don't need to escalate/You see, war is not the answer.' As his fame increased, he became reclusive. Worshipful crowds filled his concert seats —women particularly adored him — but the love felt fleeting and unreliable. 'I want to be liked and I would hate it, I mean really hate it, if an audience didn't like me,' he told The Times. 'It's really a hang-up.' He hated the government and scorned taxes, which the government noticed. By the late 1970s he was bankrupt and owed the IRS $2 million. He fled for Europe, chased by creditors and depressed that Motown seemed to have given up on him amid a sales slump. ('I adore being revered,' he said. 'I wasn't being adored here.') He spent 3 1/2 years in self-imposed exile, and returned to tell The Times, 'I'm egotistical. I could lie and pretend that I'm very humble but that's jive. You can't do what I'm doing and not have a big ego to feed.' In 1983, as Gaye toured with his 'Midnight Love' album, which he made for Columbia Records, Times music critic Robert Hilburn described one of his concerts as a 'triumphant showcasing' of artistry that marked a liberating break from Motown. 'At last, he was standing alone: the artist vindicated,' Hilburn wrote. 'This tour is supposed to be the culmination of that artistic climb.' But Gaye was wrestling with serious depression, and a freebasing habit that inflamed his paranoia. He was found wandering on the freeway, as if daring cars to hit him. More than once, he had talked of suicide — he admitted trying to do it with a cocaine overdose — but had not been able to go all the way. His father's religion told him it was a mortal sin. In early 1984, twice divorced, Gaye was back with his parents, living down the hall from his father on the second floor of the family's brickfront Tudor in the Crenshaw District of Los Angeles. It was a 'madhouse' where screaming matches were frequent, as Frankie Gaye, who lived next door, wrote in his memoir 'Marvin Gaye, My Brother.' The musician holed up in his bedroom, with a gun in the pocket and a Bible in his hand, and steady visits from his drug dealers. His 69-year-old mother doted on him, cooking for him, rubbing his feet, and praying with him. The father, often drunk, resented the loss of her attention. He kept the .38 revolver, a gift from his son, under his pillow. The fatal confrontation was on April 1, 1984. The father had come to the son's bedroom, and was berating his wife about a misplaced letter from an insurance company. The singer ordered him out of the room, then followed him into the hall and 'pushed the father around pretty good,' police said. The father returned with the gun and shot his son twice, once in the shoulder and once in the heart. When news got out, some thought at first it must be a twisted April Fool's joke. Some, like his biographer Ritz, saw it as the culmination of Gaye's death wish and thought, 'So that's how he did it.' At Forest Lawn Memorial Park, 10,000 fans stood in a mile-long line to say goodbye. It was estimated to be the biggest crowd in park history. In his account to a probation officer, Gay said that his son had pushed him to the floor and kicked him, and that he grabbed the gun from under his pillow in fear of further attack. Los Angeles prosecutors charged him with murder but found themselves with a weak case. Toxicology reports showed cocaine in the singer's system. A court-ordered brain scan revealed that the 71-year-old defendant had been suffering from a walnut-sized brain tumor, which defense attorneys were prepared to argue had affected his judgment. Plus, photos of the defendant showed that his body was covered with fresh bruises, suggesting that he had taken a severe beating from his son. Dona Bracke, who prosecuted the case, recalled that one of the bruises on his side was the size of a melon. 'I thought, 'That's not a punch, that has to be a kick,'' she said in a recent interview. 'Clearly, it had been a huge fight.' This buttressed the case for self-defense. 'We had all kinds of photographs of the old man exhibiting bruises and welts and lacerations as result of Marvin's beatings,' Arnold Gold, one of Marvin Gay Sr.'s defense attorneys, told The Times in a recent interview. 'I had sensational defense facts, not the least of which was the only witness was the mother,' Gold said, and 'she refused to testify.' Gold said he was holding out for a reduced charge of involuntary manslaughter, but 'everybody wanted the case resolved as quickly as possible.' And so Marvin Gay Sr. accepted the deal when, five months after the shooting, prosecutors allowed him to plead no contest to voluntary manslaughter. The conviction might have brought him up to 13 years in prison, but the probation department had recommended against lockup, and there was little expectation that the judge would give him hard time. What Gold recalls about his client is 'how sad and pathetic he was.' The legal process unfolded in a relatively fast and muted fashion, without notable controversy or protest. 'This was one of the first big-name criminal cases, but it didn't have the polarization that, for example, O.J. Simpson had,' Gold said. Both parties were Black, so 'we had no race element to it at all that would have been available to be exploited.' Bracke, the prosecutor, said she was surprised that there was so little uproar surrounding the case. 'I was thinking I'd get a phone call from someone irate. 'He murdered his son, you're letting him off.' I never got anything.' She said she had a conversation with a Black records clerk who gave her a hint as to why. 'I said, 'Where's the hue and cry from the community?' This was clearly a favored son, and it was just so quiet. And she said, 'In the Black community our fathers would say, I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it.' ' Some in Gay's family, like his brother Frankie and sister Jeanne, concluded that Gaye had orchestrated his own death. She said her father had made it clear that if Marvin hit him, he would kill him. By provoking his father, he had ended his own misery and had freed his mother, who finally found the courage to leave her husband of 48 years. Ritz said he thinks of it less as a crime than a tragedy, and as an elaborately choreographed suicide that had the added effect of punishing the father. 'He thought that because his father had killed him, his father would go to hell,' Ritz said. In his memoir, Frankie Gaye describes rushing into his brother's bedroom to cradle him as he died. 'I got what I wanted,' the singer mumbled, by his brother's account. 'I couldn't do it myself, so I made him do it.' Informed of that account, Bracke, the prosecutor, said she had not heard it before. 'He certainly didn't tell detectives that version,' she said. 'That's the first I've ever heard of that.' Seven months after he killed his son, Marvin Gay Sr. received a sentence of probation from a Superior Court judge who concluded that the singer had provoked the fatal confrontation, and that prison would be a death sentence for the frail, aging defendant. Gay Sr., who would live another 14 years, stood between his attorneys and thanked the judge for his mercy. His voice shook, and he spoke very softly. He said he was sorry. He said he had been afraid. 'I wish he could step through the door right now,' he said. 'I loved him. I love him right now.'

Wordle hint today: Clues for August 20 2025 NYT puzzle #1523
Wordle hint today: Clues for August 20 2025 NYT puzzle #1523

USA Today

time5 hours ago

  • USA Today

Wordle hint today: Clues for August 20 2025 NYT puzzle #1523

WARNING: THERE ARE WORDLE SPOILERS AHEAD! DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU DON'T WANT THE AUGUST 20, 2025 WORDLE ANSWER SPOILED FOR YOU. Ready? OK. We've seen some hard Wordle words over the years and if you're here, you're probably struggling with today's and are looking for some help. So let's run down a few clues with today's Wordle that could help you solve it 1. It has two vowels. 2. Two consonants are the same. 3. It's associated with an animal. And the answer to today's Wordle is below this photo: It's ... LLAMA. While you're here, some more Wordle advice: How do I play Wordle? Go to this link from the New York Times and start guessing words. What are the best Wordle starting words? That's a topic we've covered a bunch here. According to the Times' WordleBot, the best starting word is: CRANE. Others that I've seen include ADIEU, STARE and ROAST. Play more word games Looking for more word games?

Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Phillips takes buyout
Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Phillips takes buyout

Axios

time16 hours ago

  • Axios

Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Phillips takes buyout

Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Phillips has accepted a buyout from the paper, ending his 24-year run reviewing film and theater. Why it matters: For the first time since the 1950s, the Chicago Tribune no longer has a chief film critic. Phillips follows Richard Roeper, who left the Sun-Times earlier this year. What they're saying:"My options were to stick around for a newsroom reassignment to be named later, or take the buyout. I went with the buyout," Phillips wrote on social media. "I've had a ball in a great city working with people who care, and writing about a Platonic ideal of a great city's devotion to cinema, and to every artistic realm imaginable," Phillips wrote. Flashback: Phillips started as a theater critic at the paper. He gradually moved over to reviewing films, replacing Michael Wilmington, who had replaced Gene Siskel. Between the lines: The move to eliminate Phillips' position follows the industry trend to cut back on arts and culture reporting, specifically film reviews. While Phillips and Roeper are hardly the only cuts at local newspapers, their departures hit home in Chicago because of the national success of film critics Siskel and Roger Ebert. The two paired up to create the television program "At the Movies," which ran for several years. In 2009, Phillips was tapped to co-host "At the Movies." The syndicated show ended in 2010. The intrigue: Phillips said Tribune management was eliminating his position as critic, but the company did not respond to Axios' request for confirmation.

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