Photographer: LaRese King
OPINION: Twenty-five years after the Wendy’s massacre in Queens, Jonathan Conyers unpacks the story of a survivor who speaks out to ensure the tragedy—and the people behind the headlines—are never forgotten.
May 24, 2000. A Wednesday. Just another spring day in Queens until it wasn’t. Before the sun could set, John Taylor and Craig Godineaux walked into a Wendy’s in Flushing, bound seven workers in a freezer, and shot them all in the head. Five died that day. Two survived against all odds.
It was the kind of headline that turned stomachs across the city. Brutal. Senseless. Deeply personal. These weren’t nameless victims. These were neighbors. Sons. Daughters. People just trying to earn a living. And in a matter of minutes, five lives were stolen inside a place where people expected safety and routine.
The massacre was orchestrated by John Taylor, a former employee, and his accomplice Craig Godineaux. It wasn’t a robbery gone wrong. It was a cold and calculated act of violence. And it left an entire community reeling.
For those of us who lived through it, the Wendy’s massacre was a turning point. After that day, we moved differently. Teenagers heading to after-school jobs were met with worried stares from their parents. Restaurants changed how they handled late-night shifts. Trust in familiar places was shaken. The air in Queens felt heavier. The sense of safety altered in a way that’s hard to describe if you didn’t feel it yourself.
Ask anyone from Queens. That day wasn’t just tragic. It was surreal. A quiet horror that unfolded in our backyard and still hasn’t been fully acknowledged by the rest of the world. It didn’t become a national conversation. It didn’t spark long-term media cycles or memorials. But it lived in us. In our families. In our workplaces. In the invisible armor we wore moving forward.
Survivors like Jaquione Johnson, who lived through the massacre with a bullet wound to the head, still carry the trauma. His life and so many others were forever altered.
As Jaquione shared recently, “My life ain’t been the same since that day. I’m walkin’ with pain, not just in my body but in my mind. Every day feels like a fight to find some peace, but peace never really comes. The world moves on, but for the two of us who made it out, that day don’t ever leave. It’s not just about surviving. It’s about living with what was taken and trying to rebuild when people forget.”
And people did forget. Or never knew. Or filed it away in the back of their memory because it was easier than facing the truth. That something this horrific could happen in a place so ordinary. A fast-food restaurant. A Wednesday afternoon. No warning. No reason.
That is why this anniversary matters. Not for the shock value but for the remembrance. For the families who still mourn. For the survivors, they are still navigating this world with invisible wounds. And for a borough that held its breath and hasn’t exhaled quite the same since.
We may not be able to change the past. But we can choose how we remember it.
On this twenty-fifth anniversary, let’s remember all the lives changed that day. The ones lost in silence. The ones who lived to speak. While the perpetrators may be behind bars, the scars they left remain. Let’s teach our kids about the Wendy’s massacre with the same urgency we teach them about resilience and justice. Let’s demand that our communities don’t just grieve in private but are given the space and respect to mourn publicly. Collectively. Truthfully.
Because the shots that shook Queens didn’t echo in headlines for long. But they still echo in freezers. In hospital rooms. In homes forever missing a loved one.
It is time we finally told the full story.
Remember May 24th. Say their names. And never let silence bury their legacy again.
Because before the headlines faded, these were the lives lost:
In Loving Memory of the Victims of the Wendy’s Massacre:
- Ali Ibadat (40) – A devoted father and employee
- Jeremy Mele (19) – A college student with big dreams
- Jean Auguste (27) – A hard worker, beloved by his coworkers
- Rita Sunarso (27) – Newly married, with a promising future
- Nasdaq Rahman (18) – Just beginning his adult life
Jonathan Conyers is the author of the acclaimed memoir I Wasn’t Supposed to Be Here. He is also a respiratory therapist, writer, and producer, as well as the owner and investor of several successful business ventures. Through his storytelling and work, Conyers continues to amplify underrepresented voices and create impact across industries.
