“My son didn’t deserve to die. MY SON DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE!” Mrs. Montrose shouted inside the Harmony Funeral Home in Flatbush on Tuesday, March 26th, around 7 p.m. Her voice touched over 200 people who came to pay their final respects to her 19-year-old son, the young man who everyone said was a joyful, respectful soul. Christian Josiah Joel Farrel-Montrose, a victim of gun violence, was murdered in front of his family home on East 104th Street on March 19th, after returning home from giving a friend a ride.
Mourners piled into the funeral home, all crying and angry about a life taken randomly and senselessly. Christian was never affiliated with a gang; he was a standout good kid, his family and friends tell the Canarsie Courier. Testimony after testimony, people spoke of his character, from past daycare workers to former babysitters, former schoolteachers, school friends and, most recently, his coworker from Budget Car Rental who couldn’t miss the opportunity to say his final goodbye to a young man with exceptional character. They all told the same story: he was well-mannered; he said good morning, good afternoon or good night. He called his elders “Sir” or “Mrs.” He was the peacemaker in the home, and among his friends, he was the one they would go to for wisdom.
One by one, his family took to the podium – his brothers and sisters all distraught because the youngest son (who was also a twin) of Mr. and Mrs. Montrose’s seven children will never get the opportunity to live out his dreams, and the idea of burying their little brother is still abstract to them. He passed away on the birthday of one of his eldest sisters, and now his twin sister, Crystal, must carry on without her twin brother. The family shared stories of how anything they asked, he did, and he wanted to be an example for his nieces and nephews. His last words to his mother and sister were printed on the back of his grief card, words so beautiful that he sent to both of them in hopes of bringing the two who were feuding back together.
His brother, Joshua, who Christian ran to the night he was shot, said he didn’t even have a favorite color; red was his mother’s favorite color and blue was his dad’s, and he chose both. Joshua was frozen as he spoke about his brother. The words barely reached his lips. The night on replay in his memory. From surveillance video, Christian pulled up to the home around 2:45 a.m. after taking his friend home, and as he was coming out of the car to go into the house, someone pulled up and shot him, for no known reason. The police believe it’s a case of mistaken identity. Christian headed straight to the house and collapsed in the arms of Joshua, who helped him get into the ambulance. Christian died in the ambulance before arriving at Brookdale Hospital.
His friends told the Canarsie Courier they were in total disbelief when they heard he died. The news of his death broke on Snapchat immediately. They started texting each other, “What’s Christian’s last name?” One of them confirmed his last name to the group. As they all heard their friend, the peacemaker, the one they went to for wisdom and guidance, was killed, they broke down. One was riding the bus and said he just started crying right there. Another friend was at work and just stood frozen; he couldn’t move, he couldn’t do anything. One by one, they shared stories of Christian being the light of the group. They all live in the Canarsie area, and since his death, they are extra cautious when going home. They say he is the last person on earth anything like this should have happened to. He was peaceful to the point where he would turn off rap music and play seven-hour nature sounds from YouTube. He never lost his temper, and none of them, none of them are gang-affiliated; they are regular young men who are starting their lives.
Mr. and Mrs. Montrose are both government workers who have raised their seven children here in Brooklyn, spending the last few years in their Canarsie home. To say their lives have changed is a gross understatement. The Canarsie Courier was granted the opportunity to speak with them about their son, and as they shared videos of him, Mrs. Montrose said she wants to remind parents to take as many videos and photos with their children as possible. These videos of her son, hugging her, smiling with her, or just moments with his siblings, are carrying them through.
Mrs. Montrose shared about the night Christian went to pick up a friend and she told him, “No, let him take a cab,” and he said, “Mommy, this is not how you raised me,” and he went to be a good friend. Mrs. Montrose told the Canarsie Courier that this is who her son was and that he always went out of his way no matter what.
Mr. Montrose shared with the Canarsie Courier how loving and supportive his son was. He was always by his side helping him with anything. He would cook for him and his wife. Mrs. Montrose seconded this statement, telling the Courier outside of his passion for cars, her son loved cooking. She said he was an over-cooker, meaning he cooked more than what was needed. Mr. Montrose said he was the best child, the best son, extremely loving, compassionate and that he wished he could have been like him even though he was younger. Christian loved his family. He loved to hug people; his mom talked about a time during the pandemic that he would run and hug family and friends because he was a hugger.
The pleasant memories and stories of Christian are endless – too many to fill in this article. Now the hard part starts – life without their son. Their family home is the site of great loss, and with their son’s killer on the loose, the family is rightfully uneasy about coming and going from their home. The 69th Precinct has been helpful with the transition and support. They’ve also received so much help from The God Squad, but moving forward is unthinkable.
Christian’s death was one of many senseless deaths in Brooklyn last month. An East Flatbush man was killed on March 16th when a tow truck driver punched him because he parked his car at the gas station. Then, the following day, March 17th, two twin sisters were attacked in Park Slope; one died from her injuries after refusing to give a young man her phone number. The sisters left the home to get snacks after having a long night of family games.
Josiah – the name Christian’s mother prefers to call him – leaves behind so many who love him. Along with his mother and father, friends and family, far and near, he also leaves behind his twin sister, Crystal, their five siblings, Joanna, Andrew, Joshua, Kayla and Faith, and his niece, Kylie, and nephew, Isaac.
