The then-18-year-old A-level student Anthony Walker was brutally murdered in an unprovoked racially motivated attack. Twenty years on, his mum speaks of the pride she feels in him
Twenty years after Anthony Walker was murdered in a racist attack, his mum still smiles at a photo of him in his school uniform – cheeky grin and all.
“He hated that picture,” Dr Gee Walker says with a laugh. “He said it made his cheeks look chubby. He’d always try to take it down. I told him, ‘I paid for that picture, it’s staying up.’”
It is two decades since the 18-year-old with ambitions to become a lawyer was ambushed in a Merseyside park, his life brutally cut short in an horrific unprovoked assault with an ice pick.
In the intervening years the teenager who ‘epitomised kindness’ has been synonymous with the fight against racism through the work of the Anthony Walker Foundation.
In an ever-changing world, a new generation is at risk of not knowing his story and yet Anthony’s legacy – and the work of the foundation – is more important than ever, with referrals to the organisation’s hate crime unit sky-rocketing by 300% in the wake of the racially charged Southport riots last summer.
“Each anniversary brings something different,” says 70-year-old Gee. “It’s a nightmare that always comes up. It’s not something you can ever get away from.
“Up until the night he was killed he was thinking of others, because he could have just run away. But if he did that, the others would have been vulnerable and he would never have done that, he would never have left them.”
Sitting in a side room at the Anthony Walker Foundation’s office in Liverpool, Gee’s wrist is adorned with bracelets branded with the foundation’s name, while a pendant stamped with a picture of her son’s smiling face hangs from her neck.
“He was the son every mother would love to have. He was always a good friend to the underdog. He was sort of drawn to the vulnerable,” she remembers.
“He was the man of the house. He had five women in the house so he was the peacemaker. But by God did everyone respect him. If his sisters dared come home late, he’d be sitting up waiting. He’d say, ‘what time do you call this? Do not disrespect this house,’” she laughs.
Alongside his passion for basketball, he was also determined to become a lawyer.
“He was a born lawyer. He was democratic and would present his case in a mindful, respectful way. It’s such a shame he missed out on his life goals, his purpose in life,” says his mum.
As Gee’s rock at home, in addition to carrying out chores he got a job at McDonald’s, sneaking banknotes into his mum’s pockets and handbag from his pay packet.
“When he got his job he got me diamond earrings and a bracelet, fake of course,” Gee recalls. “They’ve turned green now, but I’ve still got them. He said to me, ‘This is planting the seed, I’m going to get you the real thing.’ That’s a dream that will never be fulfilled.”
The Walkers had settled in Huyton in Knowsley, just outside Liverpool, one of only two Black families in the area. Racism was an everyday part of life for the family.
“I remember I was coming out of the Post Office and a child less than five years old was calling me names,” Gee, originally from Coventry, remembers. “I was just thinking, you’re a child. How can that come out of your mouth?”
One day, while pushing a pram, a gang of lads blocked her path and abused her. “They expected me to run away, but I walked straight through them. I said, ‘I live here, I’m taking my kids to school and by the way, I’m not afraid of you. If you see any of my children, remember they’re mine, so don’t mess with them. You don’t own this area.’ I taught my children to walk with our heads held high.”
At around 11pm on July 29, 2005, Anthony had been babysitting his nephew along with his girlfriend, Louise, and cousin Marcus. The two boys were walking her to the bus stop when a 17-year-old Michael Barton hurled racist abuse in their direction.
Anthony led the group away, anxious to avoid confrontation, but Barton called his 20-year-old cousin, Paul Taylor. The pair drove to the entrance of McGoldrick Park and set an ambush. Louise and Marcus managed to escape, but Anthony was cornered, with Taylor driving an ice axe into his head with such ferocity it embedded 6cm into his skull.
“I got a call and was told to get to the hospital,” Gee says. “There was like a Hansel and Gretel trail of blood through the hospital. I only found out later it was Anthony’s. The weapon was still in his head. The doctor told me it was bad. I said, ‘you don’t know my son. I have everybody praying. My son’s going to be okay.’”
Anthony was taken to The Walton Centre, the nearby specialist neurology hospital.
“I will always remember the nurse,” Gee recalls. “I never got to meet her again. She knew I was a person of faith. She took my hands and prayed with me.”
The doctors told Gee they had managed to remove the weapon, but there was little more they could do. Anthony died in the early hours of July 30 surrounded by his family.
The sickening murder made front page news. In December 2005 Barton and Taylor, respectively the brother and cousin of footballer Joey Barton, were handed life sentences for the murder.
Presiding judge Lord Justice Leveson said the cousins had perpetrated a “racist attack of a type poisonous to any civilised society”. Despite all this, Gee forgave her son’s killers.
“Anthony stood for goodness, kindness, love, forgiveness and strength. We can’t hate because there was no hate in him. We had to emulate what he stood for.”
In the days, weeks and years after Anthony’s murder, the people of Liverpool rallied around.
“They helped me find my purpose. I think if Anthony happened anywhere else, his death would probably be a statistic. I’m an honorary Scouser. During my bad times, they came and saved me. This is my home. They are my people.”
It was this support, coupled with her will to ensure her son left a legacy even in death, that led Gee to establish the Anthony Walker Foundation in 2006. The foundation is largely split into two teams – one to support victims of hate crime, and a second to provide educational opportunities for schools and workplaces to promote equity and inclusion.
The loss of Anthony still weighs heavily on Gee, particularly when she sees headlines of other parents struggling to deal with the deaths of their own children. “There’s no getting away from it for me,” she says.
“I know what grief, pain and loss feels like. I’ve lost my sister, brother, mother, family, nothing comes close to losing my son. It’s the worst pain you can ever imagine.”
What keeps her going?
“The new generation. I see the kids I’ve spoken to in schools are coming back to volunteer and make a difference. But it’s not happening fast enough – we should have passed racism by now.”
Gee’s endless campaigning has led to a string of accolades including an MBE, an honorary doctorate from the University of Liverpool and a Pride of Britain award. But the recognition is tinged with sadness, she says, as she wonders what Anthony might have accomplished had he been allowed to live.
“I just can’t bear to think about it, because this young man was just 18 and left such a legacy. He’s still impacting life now.
“His legacy transcends. Everything is in Anthony’s name. I’m doing this for you, son. It’s for my boy.”
READ MORE: Joey Barton blasted by grieving family of murdered teen Anthony Walker
