At 12:05 p.m. today, there will be a short ceremony in front of the Pine Bluff Police Department headquarters in memory of Detective Kevin Collins, who was killed a year ago a little after noon.
The subdued nature of the event is by design.
"I've been approached by people who thought we should do a balloon release or a candlelight vigil," said Collins' mother, Donna Hobbs. "But Kevin was a person of action. He would come home and would have us buying coats and hats and diapers for families that didn't have anything. He'd say, 'Momma, this kid didn't even have socks on and it was cold.'"
For that reason, to mark the anniversary of her son's death, Hobbs is urging the public to make donations.
"Detective K.D. Collins loved the community he swore to serve and exemplified a heart for children," reads a poster created for the event. "So on the one-year anniversary of his 'Final Call,' the family is asking those who can and will to donate NEW Winter wear items for those children who are in need."
Hobbs, who is planning to speak at today's event, said the past year has done little to dull the ache in her heart.
"I loved my son, and I miss that boy every single day," she said. "You couldn't believe how proud I was of him when he'd walk into a room wearing his uniform. It wasn't just the 'detective' he had in front of his name. It was the compassion he had toward everyone -- even criminals."
That compassion, she said, is something that inspired her.
"He taught me how to give people a second chance," she said. "I've had people who have been in trouble with the law come up to me and tell me that Kevin gave them a second chance and that they are doing something good with their lives now. I can see my son in those people."
Hobbs also talked about the scholarship that has been set up at UAPB for criminal justice majors, saying the fund is endowed now at $100,000 and that she was eager to put the money to work. She also said that she and her family have vowed to contribute $1,000 to the fund each year on Oct. 5. Asked if she wanted to encourage the public to contribute to the scholarship fund, Hobbs hesitated.
"They certainly can if they want," she said. "But that fund is established, and it will always be there. What I'd really like is to come up with something new, something different. It doesn't even have to be in his honor. He's gone now, but we have to carry it on."
Collins' loss is also still fresh on the mind of someone who went through much with him. Sgt. Sabrina Washington went to the police academy at the same time Collins did, and the two went to rookie school together. She said she had never met anyone like Collins, whom she described as a total police professional on the outside but hilariously funny behind closed doors.
"He always had a plan," Washington said with a laugh, "and I never knew what it was. He had no respect for anyone's time. He would stop by unannounced, uninvited, and come over to talk about work. When I tore my ACL and couldn't move and couldn't walk, he would come over every day and bring manila folders with paperwork on everyone they were looking for. He'd say, 'I want you to keep your mind right so that when you come back to work, you won't have forgotten everything.' Everything always led back to something at work."
Washington said that on that morning, one year ago, she and Collins talked for 19 minutes until she had to go to White Hall for rehab on her knee.
"Twenty-two minutes later, I got a call that he'd been shot," she said.
She said she has felt unsettled for the past couple of weeks as the anniversary approached.
"I've been just kinda mixed up," she said. "Sometimes I feel like blocking it out. He still inspires me to do better in my career and personal life. And he was so good about treating everyone the same, criminals or peers."
Asked where Collins' career might have taken him, Washington said she saw no reason why he would not have become chief someday.
"He was so persistent and so studious in his knowledge of police work," she said. "I try to be like that, but he's the only one I've ever known to live it every day. And he would be like that, not to get a promotion but just to better himself."
After Collins was killed, Washington said, the violent crimes unit "kinda faded out."
The person in charge of it, Lt. Ralph Isaac, was seriously wounded in the shoulder during the shootout and has never returned to work. Another officer who was with Isaac and Collins when they rolled up to the Econo Lodge on Blake Street that day has since moved to another police department in the state. And Washington said she, too, has left that unit.
"We were pretty much together throughout our whole careers," Washington said. "I could not have made it this past year if it hadn't been for his mother and her unwavering strength."
Another person Collins became close to was Mayor Shirley Washington, who bonded with Collins during the times he would drive her into parts of town where she said she would have otherwise been afraid to go.
Asked what was going through her mind a year after, the mayor fought back tears.
"He was even more of a dedicated police officer than we ever realized," Washington said. "A year later, my mind floods with memories of his professionalism and diligence. He embraced all the officers and the mission of the PBPD. His passion was to fight violent crime.
"While the incident of his death will always impact our life, it is how he lived that we will remember. We all know that he had a heart to serve. That was evident in everything he did."
KeShone Smith, now age 20, has been charged with capital murder in Collins' death. His trial has been set for May 11 in Circuit Judge Jodi Dennis' courtroom. Smith has also been charged with murder in a Georgia killing.