The morning of September 18 began like any other for the families near McNair Elementary School—a quiet hum of engines, children’s backpacks bouncing as they hurried across crosswalks, and parents rushing from drop-off to work. It was a routine millions of families across the country experience daily. But for 9-year-old Anakin Perez and his mother, Alejandra Gallegos, that familiar rhythm would turn into a nightmare that still reverberates through their community.

Anakin, a bright, playful boy with an infectious smile, was walking to school just like he did every morning. He was full of life, full of dreams—still at the age where the world feels big and exciting and full of endless possibility. His mother had kissed him goodbye earlier, unaware that this ordinary morning would end with the kind of grief no parent should ever carry.

As he stepped into the crosswalk, a vehicle approached—driven by another parent who had just dropped off her own child. What happened next remains burned into the memories of everyone who heard the screams, everyone who ran toward the chaos, and everyone who has stood at the crash site asking the same question:

Why?

The Collision

Investigators say the driver struck Anakin as he crossed, and instead of stopping, the vehicle continued moving—dragging the little boy beneath it. Witnesses later reported seeing no brake lights

, no swerving, no attempt to slow down or stop. Just the steady, horrifying movement of a vehicle carrying a child’s body 72 feet down the road.

Seventy-two feet.
Almost the length of two school buses.

The horror of the moment is nearly impossible to imagine. A boy on his way to school—books in his backpack, perhaps thinking about his day—suddenly caught beneath a car, pulled along pavement with no chance to escape.

Residents screamed. Bystanders waved their arms. Someone shouted for the driver to stop. But the vehicle kept moving until finally, finally, it came to a halt.

And then, in the chaos that followed, the driver fled.

A Mother’s Breaking Point

When the call came, Alejandra’s world collapsed.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t have three seconds to stop your car immediately?” she said through tears.

“You didn’t feel the hit? You didn’t feel you dragging his body 72 feet down the street?”

Her words echo the disbelief shared by the entire community. Because any driver knows the jolt of hitting a pothole, the rumble of rolling over debris, the instant reaction of hitting the brake when something feels wrong.

But this driver didn’t stop.
Didn’t brake.
Didn’t get out to help.

She drove away.

Alejandra replayed the moment over and over, imagining her son’s last seconds, imagining him frightened and helpless. And then she asked the question haunting every parent in the neighborhood:

“How could another mother do this? How could she go home, hug her kids… and I can’t do that with my son anymore?”

The Driver’s History Comes to Light

As details emerged, rage began to eclipse bewilderment.

According to Anakin’s mother, the driver behind the wheel that morning had a long, alarming record:

• Multiple DUIs

• Previously pulled over with alcohol in her car

• Fourteen different traffic violations

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• Involved in hitting not one, but two other people

And yet, on the day she killed a child, she was not arrested.
She was not charged with vehicular homicide.
She was not tested for alcohol impairment.

Instead—after dragging a 9-year-old down the street—she received a citation.

Just a citation.

Failure to exercise due care to a pedestrian in the road.

The community was stunned. Outraged. Furious.

How could the system fail so catastrophically? How could a child be dragged nearly the length of a basketball court and no felony charges be filed? How could a driver with a documented history of recklessness be treated as if she had simply rolled through a stop sign?

Witnesses Speak Out

Neighbors near McNair Elementary began coming forward.

“There were no brake lights. No nothing,” said Anakin’s aunt.

Another parent said they often witnessed this driver speeding, ignoring signs, or cutting around other cars. Reckless driving near the school was not new—but this tragedy made the consequences unavoidably real.

Parents stood on the sidewalks where their own children walked every morning, imagining how easily it could have been their sons or daughters.

A Community in Mourning

That night, the community gathered at the site where Anakin had been killed. They brought candles, flowers, stuffed animals, posters, photos—anything to express sorrow in a moment where words felt small and helpless.

Some cried openly.
Some hugged strangers.
Some simply stood in silence, unable to process the enormity of the loss.

But beneath the grief was a rising fire—a collective demand for change

.

Signs appeared among the memorial:

“Justice for Anakin.”
“Protect Our Kids.”
“School Zones Aren’t Optional.”

People began calling for:

• More crossing guards

• Flashing lights

• Stricter speed enforcement

• Police presence during drop-off

• Legislation to increase penalties for reckless driving near schools

Because this wasn’t the first time reckless driving had been reported near McNair Elementary. Parents had complained for months about speeding, rolling stop signs, texting drivers, and parents in a hurry endangering others.

Anakin’s death was not an isolated incident—it was the culmination of repeated warnings that went ignored.

School District & Police Response

The school district announced that crossing guards were indeed on duty the morning of the crash. Grief counselors were brought in for students and staff, many of whom had known Anakin since kindergarten or pre-K.

The Maryland Office of the Attorney General confirmed they were investigating the incident, reviewing police actions, and determining whether additional charges should be filed.

But for Anakin’s family, no report, no investigation, and no official statement could touch the depth of their loss.

A Mother’s Voice, A Community’s Cry