Police arrested Cordale Nichols, of Burnside, shortly after the explosion and charged him with murder, attempted murder and other felonies Monday.
Jacore Anders pointed at a boarded up north-facing window across the street from the CHA rowhouse where he lives in Bridgeport. It had almost been a week since his 54-year-old neighbor had called for help from that window.
Charnette Walker, 54, died early June 15 after a makeshift explosive device detonated in her living room and sparked a massive fire that left her 12-year-old granddaughter seriously injured. Police arrested Cordale Nichols, of Burnside, shortly after the explosion and charged him with murder, attempted murder and other felonies Monday. Nichols had allegedly been targeting Walker’s daughter, who he had been dating, authorities said. A Cook County Judge ordered Nichols held while awaiting trial.
Early Saturday morning, Jacore, 16, said he’d heard a window break, then looked up and saw a “wildfire” across the street. He said he and his dad, along with other neighbors, helped Walker’s granddaughter jump out of her second-story bedroom and tried to get Walker as well. Walker, whose mobility was limited ahead of a knee replacement, was not able to jump and died.
“I feel sad because we couldn’t get her out,” said Jacore, 16.
On the south side of the building Friday night, neighbors and family gathered to remember Walker, whom they described as loving, spiritual, outspoken and down-to-earth. Prayer candles, a stuffed rabbit, pictures and balloons sat on the steps of Walker’s rowhouse.
Most of the items were bedazzled with rhinestones. Walker’s neighbor to the south, Victoria Steffens, said Walker, who went by Shawn, was crafty and “loved to bling stuff out” in particular.
“I can’t tell you how many times she was like, ‘Vicki, got any glue sticks?’,” Steffens said.
Walker also had a motorcycle and loved to roller-skate, though her need for a knee replacement had put her off that hobby for a few months before her death. She’d decorate the yard for every holiday under the sun, neighbors said, from Christmas to Easter to Valentine’s Day and Fourth of July.
Walker’s daughter Charquandra mostly declined to comment, but told the Tribune that Charnette had been her best friend and that she was spending nights in the hospital with her daughter, who remained hospitalized with serious burns.
She spent much of the gathering greeting neighbors and family and taking photos and videos of the candle setup with a tablet.
Walker’s mother Velma Walker, 73 sat on a swinging chair to the right of the memorial display, singing along to the music. She said that while her daughter went all out for celebrations, she was especially enthusiastic about birthdays.
“Her birthday was in February, she’d start getting ready in January,” she said.
Velma and others added that Walker was crazy for the brand Adidas, so much so that her most recent party had been Adidas-themed, and that she was “a church girl” who liked to sing in choir.
Lily Love, 68, had least seen Walker at a May prayer breakfast for public housing residents. It had been an ordinary outing, she said. They had their coffee, prayed, talked. They enjoyed themselves.
“After she finished praying she told me she felt like a brand new person,” Love said.
Diane Hughes, 60, attended the memorial in a pair of blinged-out crocs Walker had decorated for her. Hughes, a 17-year resident of the housing complex, said she and Walker were best friends. They participated in a resident ambassador program together and enjoyed trying out new restaurants around Chicago.
“She’d call you all day,” Hughes said, “It was like, ‘Diane, you want to go here? You want to go here?’”
Walker had adored her granddaughter, she said, picking her up and dropping her off every day from school.
As the memorial stretched into the evening, Jacore Anders, who lived across the street from Walker and saw the fire, and his mom Tamika sat at the entrance to the sidewalk they’d shared and lamented how long it had taken for emergency workers to arrive at the scene.
Tamika said she thought Walker could have been saved, but that she had been focused on her granddaughter.
“She told my boys, ‘Save my grandbaby,’” she said.
