Little River Drive-By Shooting Baffles Resident

On a recent Friday afternoon, Orvil Delisson sat on a crate in front of his family's small ranch house in Little River. He looked relaxed in an unbuttoned Hawaiian-style shirt, white shorts, and sandals. A few feet away, a pink-and-purple girls' bicycle lay toppled on its side.

"I can understand one, [but] 29? Somebody wanted somebody dead."

Then Delisson lifted his shirt. Gauze and tape were strewn across his stomach — they covered the wounds left by two bullets that had flown into his house the night before.

"I don't know. I don't know," Delisson repeated over and over when asked why someone might target him or his family. "I ain't got nobody, trouble with nobody."

The shooting at Delisson's house barely went noticed. A couple of local television stations issued reports the following morning, but then the incident disappeared from the public eye. This particular shooting was perhaps exceptionally brazen — more than two dozen bullets blasted at a single house, with no apparent warning — but in a city notorious for violent crime, it was otherwise unexceptional. Every year, dozens of shootings in Miami-Dade go unobserved. Many are never solved. More than two weeks after this shooting, Miami-Dade Police have yet to make any arrests.

Delisson's brush with death came around 2 a.m. April 17. The 59-year-old, a Haitian immigrant who works as a carpenter, was sleeping beside his wife inside their house on 82nd Terrace, in a quiet, middle-class neighborhood just a few blocks east of I-95. When he and his wife heard the unmistakable ratatatat of gunshots, they dived to the ground, and Delisson was grazed in the abdomen by two rounds. His wife, as well as three others who were in the house — two girls, ages 7 and 13, and an 83-year-old woman — were miraculously uninjured.

Detectives and fire rescue soon arrived at the house, and a bleeding Delisson was taken to the hospital. In all, 29 shots were fired at the lime-green house, leaving a patchwork of bullet holes in the windows and front cinder-block wall.

The next day, in broken English, Delisson was as confused by the attack as he was grateful to be alive. He's been working lately in Jupiter and told Riptide he has no enemies in the neighborhood. A pair of detectives on the scene said neighbors hadn't shed any light on the crime either.

"We have no idea what the motive is," one said. "I can understand one, [but] 29? Somebody wanted somebody dead."

 
My Voice Nation Help
 
Miami Concert Tickets
Loading...