The squat, beige house on Dover Street in northwest Macon where Nathaniel “Crazy Nate” Jones was shot dead during a middle-of-the-night robbery two years ago looks barely lived-in these days.
The electricity has been cut off. The front room where the gunmen stormed in is barren.
The man staying there now while he fixes the place up for his uncle runs the lights off a 10-horsepower generator.
There’s a gleaming, black Mercedes in the backyard next to a pen of pit bulls.
Never miss a local story.
The tenants who lived there the night in 2010 when Jones was killed -- the two children, whose Xbox was stolen, and their mother, whose purse was snatched -- have long since moved away.
The bandits, one of whom shot Jones in the neck through the bedroom door Jones was crouched behind, hiding, have never been caught.
That was why on Wednesday, on the second anniversary of Jones’ death, his mother returned to the scene, searching for answers -- or at least hoping to stir some up in a case that is two years cold.
Twenty-two people were slain in Macon the year Jones was gunned down. Six of the cases went unsolved.
While the street where Jones died isn’t a violent-crime hotbed, nearby residents said there were shady goings-on at the house in those days.
Dover Street lies below Forsyth Road, about a mile due south of Coliseum Northside Hospital, near the intersection of Napier Avenue and Ayers Road.
Jones’ mother, Kathy Williams, a 50-year-old hairdresser, stood in the driveway outside the vinyl-sided house Wednesday. She said she felt numb. She recalled visiting the place and going inside a few days after her son was killed.
“It was a trap house ... a drug house,” she said, describing it as a haven for hustlers and dopers.
Jones, 32, who lived nearby on Grand Avenue, had apparently met a woman at the house for sex the night he died. His killers burst in looking for another man’s drug stash.
“Where it at?” they demanded, according to a police report. “Where it at?”
Jones was in a back bedroom, blocking the door so the robbers couldn’t get in. They fired through the door.
“He never saw who shot him,” his mother said.
But Williams hopes that someday she will.
“I am still seeking answers. I am still seeking justice,” she said. “I mean business.”
She has been told by detectives that they have an idea who killed her son but that there isn’t enough evidence.
Jones had been a cook at an area Cracker Barrel. He got his nickname, “Crazy Nate,” not because he was wild, but from his fun-loving antics, his mother said.
“He just enjoyed life,” she said.
On Wednesday, Williams had on a T-shirt with her son’s picture and the dates of his birth and death on it. “Sunrise ... Sunset,” it read.
She recalled visiting him at work once while he was on duty in the kitchen.
“He looked so nice. Seeing him doing that ... I was proud of him. We both went to smiling,” Williams said.
Now she wants police to “put more effort,” “to get busy” and “show more concern.”
She realizes there are other cases, other unsolved killings, other grieving mothers. Still, she’s tired of being asked to be patient.
“Every day is just a mystery,” she said, “a nightmare for me.”
To contact writer Joe Kovac Jr., call 744-4397.