Your bag is empty.
“Even you yourself predicted that last night in Vegas.” – Treach “Mourn You ‘Til I Join You’
Today, the intersection of East Flamingo Road and Koval Lane in Las Vegas is a highly developed, resort-anchored part of the city. But when Suge Knight pulled up to that intersection on September 7, 1996 with Tupac Shakur in the passenger seat, it was then just a dimly lit corner, made up of mainly dirt lots and warehouses. No one could have imagined how this small corner of the monstrous Las Vegas Strip area would live forever in infamy as Tupac was shot in a drive-by. He died from his injuries on September 13.
“It was all good until it wasn’t,” says Outlawz member E.D.I. Mean, who was in the entourage with Tupac the night he was killed, travelling in another vehicle.
The event that night was an earthquake for the Hip Hop community, which was embroiled in a dangerous East Coast vs. West Coast war that started on records, primarily between Tupac and once-close friend The Notorious B.I.G., and had begun spilling over into the streets. Sadly, less than a year later, The Notorious B.I.G. was killed similarly following an industry event at the 1997 Soul Train Awards in Los Angeles. His shooter was never found.
However, unlike Biggie’s death, there may be some justice on the way for Tupac and his family.
On August 10, the trial of Duane “Keffe D” Davis began in a Las Vegas courtroom. Davis is charged with one count of murder with a deadly weapon with the intent to promote, further, or assist a criminal gang in connection with the death of Tupac.
“The trial has a lot to do with that night,” says E.D.I. Mean. “People will get to see another perspective of it once all of that comes out, and they’ll be able to do with that what they will.”
In his 2019 memoir Compton Street Legend, Davis admits he was in the car that pulled up alongside Tupac’s where the shots were fired from. According to Davis in the memoir, he tossed a gun into the backseat and someone there fired the shots that killed Tupac. For his part, Davis and his lawyers suggest the book was merely fictionized entertainment and deny that they were truthful statements.
Much like a hunter who tells the story of a bear encounter, the size of the bear and details surrounding the encounter grow and exaggerate over time. The same can be said for the story of Tupac’s final days on earth.
Weeks before his death, Tupac had completed his Makaveli album, the last full album he recorded while alive. Reporting and discussion over the years would have you believe that Tupac was working on his Makaveli album at a furious pace because something in the air was telling him that his time on earth was limited and that doom was imminent. Or, that he faked his death altogether.
According to E.D.I. Mean, this couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Everything flowed very easily. He was in such a zone,” remembers E.D.I. “I know it’s more sexy to imagine him in the studio racing against time, knowing that impending drama was on the way. All of that is just movie stuff. In all actuality, it was probably a period of time where, to me, he was his happiest.”
In fact, Tupac was never racing against time—he was moving on his own schedule.
“Tupac might have been one of the only people that I’d ever really come across that was living in the moment. He was in every moment. He was living right then,” says the Digital Underground’s Chopmaster J, who took a teenage ‘Pac under his wing. Tupac was a roadie and backup dancer for the group in the late ‘80s. “It’s obvious he was on a clock that no one knew about.”
That’s maybe why Tupac’s youth gets lost in the conversation around him. His icon status eclipses just how young he was when he died.
“He was only 25 years old. And actually, he had just turned 25 that June,” says E.D.I Mean of ‘Pac celebrating his milestone birthday mere weeks before his tragic passing. “So a lot of what he did and created was at 24, 23, 22, which is very young. Because of his well-spokenness, his intelligence, his aura and image, he seems like somebody that lived a full life, but he was a very young person.”
In addition to topping the chart as a rapper, Tupac secured roles in films like Gang Related and Poetic Justice. Alongside working deeper within youth programs and philanthropy and being a champion for young Black men and women, Mopreme Shakur, Tupac Shakur’s stepbrother and member of the Hip Hop group Thug Life, believes ‘Pac would have gone deeper into acting.
“’Pac loved film,” says Mopreme. “He did write a few scripts. I helped him write a Thug Life script, and another screenplay called 16 Bottles.”
But for those who knew Shakur best, some of their best memories of him didn’t revolve around accolades or the glitz of celebrity.
“Just us in his drop-top Rolls-Royce riding down Sunset Boulevard listening to Sting or some other music that most people wouldn’t think Pac would listen to,” recalls E.D.I. Mean about some of his fondest memories of ‘Pac. “Seeing him happy, and not in a jail cell, and able to ride down Sunset with the top down and just enjoy the day. Not working, not filming any movies, not in the studio, just enjoying life.”
So much has changed in both Hip Hop and the world since Tupac’s premature death, but through it all, ‘Pac remains an icon. “He’s the Black James Dean,” says Mopreme of the mystique that still surrounds his stepbrother.’ “An 80-year-old man told me yesterday he was watching Gang Related and loved it. They took him from us, but at least we have his legacy, his art, and his heart. People still feel him, and that is the whole science behind music.”
At first, Tupac’s popularity made it difficult for family and friends to mourn him. His voice on the radio was a constant reminder of the magnitude of his loss.
“After it happened, there was a numbing period and a heavy mourning, just trying to get through one day at a time while also hearing Pac on the radio every day,” says Mopreme.
For Mopreme, as the years went by, he found comfort in hearing ‘Pac’s voice.
“I adapted to loving to hear him on the radio every day because the average person doesn’t get to hear their loved ones at all, let alone see them. I see him all the time—if you include AI,” says Mopreme in an appreciative tone. “Me and my wife have this thing where we’ll get in the car and a certain song will come on like Pac is talking. He was spooky like that; he was a strong spirit.”
Despite being gone for 30 years, Tupac hasn’t aged a day. And as long as a teenager discovers “Dear Mama” or “Toss It Up” and plays it on loop in his bedroom, or an 80-year-old man feels the fire of Tupac through his acting performances, some things will never change, and that’s just the way it is.