His name was Anthony Tucker.

He was a quiet leader and trusted classmate. He was a 13-year-old with an adult’s domestic responsibility. And he was shot dead – allegedly – by his mother’s abusive boyfriend after leading his family to safety. Anthony Tucker is a hero, in every sense.

His death, however, is absolutely senseless.

The accused killer, Todd Curry, has a history of domestic violence and firearms violations. Neighbors in Palmyra describe him as mentally ill, a man who fired a semiautomatic weapon at them during a property dispute.

Police repeatedly investigated him for domestic assault. He and Tucker’s mother, April Cooley, swapped protection-from-harassment orders. Neighbors were frightened. Police were hamstrung by lack of cooperation and authority. Only a brave, barely-teenage boy stood up to the abuse.

It earned him a bullet to the head.

Reflection on the disease of domestic violence always follows tragedies like these, as spilled blood always lubricates the engine of change. Half the homicides in Maine stem from domestic violence, each victim a martyr to perhaps the state’s most pervasive – and misunderstood – social ill.

The debate on domestic violence prevention is circular, as all involved – police, prosecutors, victims, social workers – have easy scapegoats. Laws are too lenient. Police are indifferent, or lack resources. Victims are uncooperative, or deny their victimization. Communities lack knowledge. Intervention is nonexistent.

All are true, and all involved share the responsibility for instituting change. Harsh light now needs to shine into the darkened corners of domestic violence, and expose it for what it is: an intolerable community issue that puts victims and innocents alike in terrible danger.

Nothing should stay a “dirty little secret” or a “private family issue” once a child is killed in cold blood. Only a ferocious community, legal, and legislative effort – working together, not apart – stands any chance of preventing domestic violence in Maine.

This effort should have started years ago. We demand it start today.

Begin with firearms, and strengthening laws to remove guns from the hands of people like Curry. His history of firearm complaints alone should have empowered law enforcement to take his weaponry away, much less the incidents of violence. Americans have the right to bear arms, not to act recklessly and intimidatingly with them.

There isn’t a responsible gun owner, or advocate, in Maine who should disagree.

Victims of domestic violence, and the agencies helping them, need empowerment as well. Too often, victims stand on the precipice of freedom and turn away, or simply decide against being labeled a “victim.” Prosecutors say this happens in about half the cases, and charges or protection orders are dropped.

Domestic violence homicide doesn’t sneak up, but leaves a marked trail of destruction. Then, in tragedy’s post-mortem, these missed chances scream at survivors: “Why didn’t you do something?” There is no easy answer, but there’s every reason to ask. We suggest, though, just one.

His name was Anthony Tucker.