Worn shoes and ashes in small urns: Reminders of Breonna Taylor remain 5 years after death

USA Today

13-03-2025

Worn shoes and ashes in small urns: Reminders of Breonna Taylor remain 5 years after death March 13 marks five years since police killed Breonna Taylor, but to many who knew and loved her the most, it 'feels just like yesterday.'
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Breonna Taylor: Bianca Austin talks about niece's death 5 years later
Five years after police killed Breonna Taylor, her aunt Bianca Austin reminisces about her niece's charm and what she misses the most.
It's been five years since police in Louisville, Kentucky, killed Breonna Taylor, but family and friends say it still "feels just like yesterday."
Loved ones remember Taylor as "the glue" who held them together and "an angel on Earth."
This story is the first in a series of coverage The Louisville Courier Journal, part of the USA TODAY Network, will publish over the next few months, marking five years since Louisville police killed Breonna Taylor and protests erupted over her death. Look for content online and in print, including videos, photos and articles exploring what Breonna meant to people and what has changed since she was fatally shot.
The last pair of shoes Breonna Taylor bought her goddaughter are about three sizes too small now.
But Breonna loved the 'just so cute' pair of green and silver sneakers.
And five years after Breonna's death, the 13-year-old can't bring herself to let them go.
Before police shot and killed Breonna in her South End apartment in Louisville, Kentucky, in March 2020, prompting thousands of protesters to take to Louisville's streets in her name for more than 150 days, Breonna was Erinicka Hunter's 'ride or die' best friend and the godmother to her daughter, Erin. The 26-year-old Black woman was a daughter, a niece, a role model to her cousins and siblings, and 'the glue' of her friend group, who organized game nights and girl trips. March 13 marks five years since she died, but to Hunter and many of the people who knew and loved her the most, it 'feels just like yesterday.'
'I know if (Breonna) would see Erin right now, she'd just cry, because she's all grown up,' Hunter said. 'She's so mature, and she'd really love who she is becoming.'
Hunter paused. Her eyes welled with tears.
'Gosh, that hurts.'
Breonna, who would have turned 32 this year, has missed so much in the past five years. She'd spent most of her 20s setting goals and checking off boxes. Just weeks before she died, she'd finally purchased her dream car. She was working in two different emergency rooms as an ER technician and as a patient transport, as she saved up for a house and to attend nursing school.
If she'd lived, Hunter said she'd almost certainly be a nurse by now. Her best friend thrived when she was helping people. Breonna was goal-oriented and focused.
That all changed when LMPD officers with a 'no-knock" warrant used a battering ram to break down her apartment door during a botched drug investigation. The officers returned a single, defensive shot fired by her boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, with a volley of bullets.
Six of them hit Breonna.
"She was most definitely supposed to be here,' Hunter said. 'She was robbed. She was robbed, and it was wrong. They were wrong.'
Breonna's death spurred a series of historic police reforms in Louisville. It banned no-knock search warrants that allow officers to burst in unannounced, like the one obtained to search Breonna's home. It created a civilian review board and hired an inspector general to review questionable actions by Louisville Metro Police Department. It promised more than a dozen reforms as part of a $12 million settlement with Breonna's family. And it signed a wide-reaching consent decree with the U.S. Department of Justice, intended to guide police practices for years to come.
But Breonna was so much more than a catalyst for change.
She was a person deeply loved by her friends and family.
And after five years, many of them still can't believe she's gone.
Previous coverage: Why Black women in Louisville are still saying Breonna Taylor's name
'I never thought it would be Breonna'
The words "Breonna died" still feel wrong to her friend Elysia Bowman.
Over the years she'd seen reports of Black people dying at the hands of the police, but Bowman said it was hard to imagine it happening to someone you know.
The night before Breonna died, she and her boyfriend enjoyed dinner at Texas Roadhouse and gave a friend's kids a ride across town. It was her first night off in awhile. She'd worked a few consecutive 12-hour shifts as an ER technician, so the couple climbed into bed and turned on a movie.
At about 12:40 a.m., a racket at the door startled them out of bed. They yelled out and asked "who's there?" but didn't hear a response, Walker said. When Walker saw the door "come off its hinges," he fired a warning shot at the ground, which hit LMPD officer Jonathan Mattingly. He and two other officers returned fire with more than 20 bullets.
A bullet struck near Taylor's heart, tearing through her main pulmonary artery connecting her heart and lungs, and the lower lobe of her left lung. Other bullets hit her forearm, thigh, abdomen, foot and right heel.
She was dead by 12:43 a.m.
For Bowman, it's still unthinkable that all this happened to one of her friends.
"I never thought it would be Breonna," Bowman said. "That's crazy. Her of all people. You would never think."
The pair met in high school in a silly little moment where Bowman confused Breonna as another friend. Somehow she ended up at Breonna's house later that day, and from then on Bowman always thought of her as a big sister.
Something changed inside Bowman the more she got to know her new friend. She watched Breonna work hard in school while balancing a job at Steak N' Shake. She saw how Breonna's cousins and siblings looked up to her and admired her work ethic. Bowman's parents didn't allow her to stay the night at friends' houses on school nights, but Breonna's house was always the exception.
Bowman can still hear her, shaking her awake in the morning.
"I'm about to take you to school," Breonna would holler at her. "Come on, get up! It's time for you to go to school."
"You're supposed to be my friend," Bowman would groan back.
She was, of course. One of the greatest Bowman has ever had.
"I think about all those years, and just knowing her, and how she was," Bowman said, still stunned at the loss. "And then what happened to her, and the way it happened was tragic and really messed up. It makes you think, 'dang, she really was an angel on Earth.'"
Five years later, she feels like that angel is still with her.
Every day since Breonna passed, Bowman has seen the numbers 3/13 in one way or another. Sometimes the date Breonna died appears on a clock or a license plate. She's spotted it in random numbers on receipts and paperwork. Occasionally, it's part of an address.
Sometimes when working in her at-home hair studio, she'll be standing behind a client crying softly as one of Breonna's favorite songs comes on.
Music by PnB Rock or "Everything" by Mary J. Blige always hit her right in the heart.
In those moments, she'll say softly out loud, "Girl, I know that's you."
'She just loved that togetherness'
Bianca Austin, Taylor's aunt, misses her niece's voice the most.
It was 'squeaky,' just a bit 'whiny' and very distinct. Breonna had the kind of voice you could pick out from across the room.
'Come on, y'all, it's about to be my birthday. What we doing?' Austin said, doing her best imitation of Breonna.
The answer was nearly as endearing as Austin's impression. For her birthday one year, Breonna suggested they all have a Thanksgiving-like feast in June. At the time, her family all laughed at this because it was barbecue season. Who else but Breonna would want to turn on an oven in June?
But Breonna had a knack for bringing her friends and family together, whether it was this unseasonable dinner, a night of playing cards or planning a girls' weekend away, another aunt, Tahasha Holloway, said. Having been raised as the first child, first niece and first grandchild, she was extremely family orientated.
'She just loved that togetherness,' Holloway remembered. 'When we come together, we were laughing, we're playing games. She has a little bit of an old soul, so listening to the (older) music, and we're playing all the card games that our mom taught us, like, Skip-Bo and Phase 10.'
She treasured spending time with her grandmother 'Suga Mama.' Her cousins and siblings idolized her. Breonna embraced the work ethic she saw in her mother and aunts, so much so she chose health-related careers just like all three of them did.
'She kept on her path,' Holloway said. 'Somehow, she was able to figure out that balance in life ... where you want to balance having fun, but also balance taking care of business.'
Nearly as memorable as her affinity for fun and community was Breonna's sense of style. She loved high heels and Air Jordans, Bowman said. She could dress up or dress down, and somehow, she always looked fabulous. Her shoes, purse and jewelry always tied her whole look together. She loved and thrived in fashion details.
As the family planned Breonna's funeral in 2020, they honored that passion. Holloway helped do her hair for the services, and they tapped a friend to fix her makeup. They picked out a blue jumpsuit for the wake and a white dress for the funeral itself.
Never in her life would Breonna have been caught in the same outfit two days in a row.
Her family knew she wouldn't want that in death, either.
Breonna Taylor's big love, loyalty and signature sass
Not a day goes by that Breonna's family and friends don't think about her.
Her sister, Juniyah Palmer, kept some of her favorite shoes.
Her goddaughter wears a gold bracelet that once belonged to her, and a small urn of some of Breonna's ashes sits on the Hunter family's kitchen table. Even five years later, seeing pictures and murals of her godmother around town is surreal.
"Knowing that her memory isn't going to die, it's very happy but a sad feeling at the same time," Erin said.
Austin has thrown herself into fighting against police brutality and advocating for social and human equality. She serves as executive director of Families United Corp. and is at forefront of campaigns to enact legislative reforms, including "Breonna Taylor's No-Knock Law" and the "George Floyd Justice in Policing Act."
'It's a never-ending fight that needs to end, that needs to be right,' Austin said.
Bowman spends a lot of time thinking about everything Breonna would have accomplished. Buying a house was definitely on her list, and her relationship with her boyfriend was nearing the point of engagement.
When Bowman helped Breonna's family clean up her apartment after her death, she found a pair of baby shoes.
That broke her heart. Breonna always wanted to be a mom.
Hunter knows that first-hand. She lived with Breonna's mother while she was pregnant with Erin.
'That's my baby,' Breonna would tell her wryly.
She found so much joy in helping with her goddaughter that Hunter jokes Breonna could have filed Erin on her taxes. She was right there, helping Erin get dressed, telling her jokes and teaching how to play UNO.
That's what a 'ride or die' friend is.
And that's what Breonna was before LMPD officers fired the shots that ended her life. That's who she was before the 911 calls were released from the night she died, and thousands of protesters took to the streets in her name in Louisville and beyond.
Five years after her tragic death, the world knows Breonna as someone who sparked international outrage and criminal justice reform.
But her family and friends remember her for all the big love, loyalty and signature sass she brought to their world every day.
Courier Journal reporter Lucas Aulbach, and editor Bailey Loosemore assisted in the reporting of this story. Some information for this feature was pulled from Courier Journal archive stories.