A boxing program in Fort Wayne that’s been a safe haven for at-risk youth is mourning one of its own this week — a teenage student killed in a Fourth of July shooting that’s left a hole no punching bag could ever absorb.

Si’montre Molargik was just 16 when he was gunned down downtown last weekend. To Marcus Benjamin, CEO of Kings and Queens Boxing, the loss is painfully personal. The teen had trained at the camp for two years, growing from a kid with attitude to a young man with promise. Now, his absence lingers like a heavy weight.

Gloves Up, Guns Down

When Benjamin started Kings and Queens Boxing in 2021, he didn’t just want kids to learn how to fight in the ring. He wanted them to fight for something bigger — their future.

“We started with one rule,” Benjamin says. “‘Put the guns down. Put the gloves up.’ It’s simple, but it works.”

The gym’s motto hits harder now. Si’montre came to them a rough-around-the-edges kid — “a knucklehead,” Benjamin says, shaking his head. But inside those walls, kids find more than uppercuts. They find mentors. They find love. Some even find family.

One Less Kid to Cheer For

Every week, the camp echoes with the sound of gloves pounding heavy bags. In those echoes, Benjamin hears laughter, frustration, hope — and now, grief.

“It touched home,” Benjamin says, voice low. “We get close to these kids. We say, ‘Strength, honor, love, loyalty.’ It’s more than words. It’s a code.”

It’s that code that makes losing Si’montre cut so deep. In a city wrestling with gun violence, every lost kid is a promise broken.

Fighting to Keep Kids Off the Streets

No one pretends this boxing camp is a miracle cure. It’s tough love, every day.

Benjamin tells parents straight: “This ain’t a daycare, it’s a boot camp.” Kids sweat. They spar. They get pushed. And for many, it’s the first time they hear someone say, “I’m proud of you.”

One boxer, wiping sweat from his brow, put it best: “Out there? You gotta watch your back. In here? You got family.”

A Community Worn Thin

Fort Wayne has seen its share of heartbreak. This shooting just twists the knife. When the Allen County Coroner identified Si’montre, the news ripped through the gym like a gut punch.

It’s the reality that keeps Benjamin awake at night. He knows the streets pull hard. One boxing ring can only do so much.

Still, he won’t give up. He can’t. Not when kids are looking at him like a father figure. Not when the alternative is another mother burying her son.

More Than a Boxing Club

What does Kings and Queens really offer? It’s not just uppercuts and footwork. It’s the little things:

• A hot meal when there’s none at home.

• A ride when the streets get dark.

• A place to be tough without being dangerous.

Si’montre felt that. He showed up, gloves on, attitude checked at the door. He worked. He laughed. He was more than his mistakes.

Hope in the Gloves

Is it enough? Some days, Benjamin wonders. “We can’t save them all,” he admits.

But look around that ring — kids are still lacing up. Still swinging for better days. For them, the fight’s not over. It can’t be.

And for Si’montre? Maybe the lesson is that it’s worth it to keep trying. One jab at a time.