For volunteers, it's personal

They live in different neighborhoods and come from different age groups, but Stephan Cullins and Fred Mayes have much in common: Both have lost loved ones to the violence that seethes in the city.

Yesterday, both men answered the "Call to Action," joining the throngs of African American men at a rally in North Philadelphia to volunteer their services as neighborhood peacekeepers.

"I'm trying to find out anything I can do to help out my community," said Mayes, 39, of Mount Airy, as he stood in a line that snaked around Temple University's Liacouras Center.

Three years ago, Mayes lost an aunt, a niece and four nephews when their house was set ablaze to keep a witness in a drug case from testifying.

"The family is still dealing with this and taking it day by day," said Mayes, wearing a T-shirt with the image of a boy who perished in the flames. "I'm hopeful that this event will help stop the violence, and I'm going to do anything I can. Somebody has to step up."

Mayes also mourns five friends who were felled over the years by gunfire.

"It was all senseless," he said, shaking his head.

Standing nearby, Cullins, 50, of Germantown, held a hand-painted placard that read "Black Power and It is Beautiful Unity."

More than 10 years ago, Cullins was buoyed with hope after he attended the Million Man March in Washington. He badly wants this latest effort to succeed.

"If we use black power right, we can get this violence to stop. We come from different faiths, but we all believe we need to stop our children from killing each other over drugs, money, and downright stupid stuff. That's why we're all here," he said.

Cullins, a carpenter with four grown children, recalled how his 13-year-old cousin died after being struck by a stray bullet while sitting on his own front step. Cullins' younger brother died, too, at age 30, from medical complications after being shot in the hip.

And Cullins remembers dodging bullets himself, when, as a teenager living in North Philadelphia, he rounded a corner and suddenly found himself in the middle of a gang war.

"Bullets were flying and whistling past me. I was lucky," he said.

Cullins said he managed to keep his children from becoming victims by keeping them inside as long as he could.

"They watched a lot of TV. I tried to bury them with housework and with doing their homework, but at least I didn't bury any of my kids. Thank the Lord," he said, heaving a sigh.

Now, he said, he wants other children to have the same chance to grow up and to live.