KIRKWOOD — Two gunmen, both consumed with rage directed at city officials and police.

In attacks less than three years apart, the two men from the largely black Meacham Park neighborhood set cross hairs on agents of a city that, from all appearances, they believed to be their oppressor.

Kevin Johnson attacked over what he perceived as police officers' indifference to his brother's heart attack. Charles Lee "Cookie" Thornton seethed for years at city officials over tickets and fines, finally lashing out when the courts dismissed his claims of injustice.

Johnson shot and killed a police officer in 2005. Last week, Thornton opened fire on city leaders and police, killing five.

While the acts are unimaginable, many Kirkwood residents say the frustrations that consumed both men are very real, and felt by many others.

The shootings, they say, expose age-old fissures that run unevenly across the city. The divisions are too complex to be simply described as black versus white, or Kirkwood versus Meacham Park.

Many in the city of 27,000 — white and black — insist the shooters were driven to violence from frustrations that many black residents in Meacham Park describe: Being disrespected by city officials. Being hassled by the police. Being treated like second-class citizens.

"Cookie absolutely was a victim of racism," said Jim Hollinshead, 46, a white former cellular phone salesman who was Thornton's friend.

He said the city abused its power by passing over Thornton's construction company for a massive redevelopment of Meacham Park in the late 1990s, then by peppering him with parking tickets and fines.

"I saw it from the inside out and was powerless to help him."

Still others residents — black and white — reject any explanation painting the killers as rebelling against racism. They say the shooters were either criminals or mentally ill.

"Something evil possessed Cookie for a long time," said Bob O'Neill, 62, of Kirkwood, who said he was a friend of Thornton's and those he killed at City Hall on Feb. 7. "Nobody would see it."

Contradictions abound in Meacham Park, a place where the people are filled with anguish, frustration — and hope.

A sign at the entrance to the neighborhood says "Gone but not forgotten." Thornton, beloved by many in the neighborhood, gets top billing and a decorative cross of white flowers. Below are the names of the people he killed.

And still, there are some residents who say there is no racial divide in Kirkwood that's wider than anywhere else.

Among them is Joe Cole, founder of Club 44, a Christian-based youth group. Cole has lived 81 of his 89 years in Meacham Park. Last month, he won the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Kirkwood-Des Peres Area Chamber of Commerce.

Cole sees blacks and white getting along fine. "Cookie was just an odd guy."

DIFFERENT BUT SAME

Meacham Park is physically segregated from the rest of Kirkwood, hemmed in by shopping centers to the east and west and Interstate 44 to the south.

Kirkwood is known for its bustling downtown, its train station, tree-lined streets and stately, early 20th-century homes.

Meacham Park's lots are about half the size of a small city lot. The streets are narrower, and trees less mature. The neighborhood has the look of starting over. While many old frame and brick homes remain, others have been demolished. On several blocks are new homes, some unoccupied, and vacant lots, all waiting for buyers.

"See that house?" asked Meacham Park resident Derrick Whitehorn, 29, pointing out his window. "These houses are going for $170,000 to $200,000. New house, four bedroom, two-car garage. Across Kirkwood, that would be $300,000 or more. That alone tells you that this is not Kirkwood."

Meacham Park dates back to 1892, when a real estate speculator named Elzey E. Meacham from Memphis, Tenn., bought 158 acres. He was white but sold lots to whites and blacks. Many street names honored black history.

For years, the area had been an unincorporated, self-regulated black enclave.

Henrietta Kimble, 84, remembers how people relied on her corner store on Meacham Street — treated it like their own pantry. Customers would go behind the counter and take what they needed, always making sure the bill was settled later. "This was how we did things," she said.

In 1991, Kirkwood annexed Meacham's 135 acres. Eighty-three percent of Meacham Park voters cast ballots in favor of the merger.

A few years later, the city helped finance Kirkwood Commons, a retail center with Target, Lowe's and Wal-Mart stores. To make way for the project, 55 acres of Meacham Park were cleared. A few properties were taken by eminent domain, but most homeowners moved out on their own.

Though about $4 million of tax revenue was spent on improvements to Meacham Park — lights and sidewalks, repaved streets, a park — many residents felt the neighborhood had been exploited by the city for profit.

City leaders countered that the development was the first step in turning around a struggling neighborhood. When the area was annexed, some homes lacked plumbing. Police protection was spotty or nonexistent.

"That was a city ghetto sitting in a suburban community," said Herb Jones, mayor of Kirkwood from 1984 to 1992. "Now it looks like a normal neighborhood."

DIFFERING OPINIONS

Mary and Brandon Boyd moved to a house built for them in Meacham Park, a three-bedroom ranch with a brick front, in November 2005. She is white, and he is black. They have a 2-year-old daughter, Sasha.

"We have never felt hassled," said Mary Boyd. "We have never felt unprotected. We feel respected."

When someone caused a disturbance in their driveway recently, the couple called Kirkwood police, who came immediately. Brandon Boyd wrote a thank-you note to Kirkwood Chief Jack Plummer, who replied: "Sometimes we feel like we are running uphill in the mud, but letters like that re-energize us."

Still, many residents chafe at what they feel are overaggressive police. The Boyds' neighbor, Whitehorn, a father of three, works nights on an assembly line in Hazelwood.

"I get pulled over by police so much going into and out of Meacham Park The police pull me over and say 'Where you going?' And I say, 'Home from work.' Stuff like that gets to you."

It was in this environment that Johnson, Kimble's great-grandson, killed a police sergeant on July 5, 2005.

Johnson's brother, Joseph Long, 12, had collapsed at home that day. While officers waited for paramedics, they searched for Johnson, a teen wanted on probation violations. Joseph died later in the hospital, and Johnson blamed police. That night, he approached William McEntee, who had come to Meacham Park on a fireworks complaint, and shot him several times.

Thornton was cut from a different cloth. He ran a contracting business for years. He was generous with time and money. When an educational program was short on funds, he pulled $400 from his pocket and required no IOU. As Hollinshead's daughter Annie, 7, lay dying from a congenital defect, Thornton came to the family's house to pray.

He had friends everywhere — white and black.

But Thornton's troubles started with his refusal to follow Kirkwood's rules after the annexation, friends said.

"What Cookie was doing in the old days was totally acceptable in Meacham Park," Jones said. "Parking heavy construction equipment in residential neighborhoods, dumping trash into vacant lots."

THE NEXT STEP

Franklin McCallie, the retired principal of Kirkwood High School, suggests convening a blue-ribbon panel to examine the divide and find ways to mend it. Others talk about creating city wards to give each Kirkwood neighborhood more representation on the City Council, whose members are at-large.

The first step toward healing may have been Thursday. Kirkwood's United Methodist Church, a mostly-white congregation, hosted Thornton's funeral.

"It's a fascinating thing and a very compassionate thing that will help this city heal," said McCallie, who helped arrange it.

"I called Pastor David Bennett to say, 'You've got a large church. Would you host the funeral of Cookie Thornton?'€…" McCallie recalled.

"Of course we will, he's a child of God," Bennett replied. "He made a terrible mistake, but we will help his wife give him a homecoming."

Said McCallie: "Not every white church is going to do that."

jkohler@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8337