We honor the departed by remembering them. But when death is ruled a homicide — as it was in the fatal shooting of 27-year-old Bryan McKemy — the honor requires more. It becomes a long vigil for justice.

Grief-stricken parents hold out hope that the killer will be caught and punished. The father calls detectives and asks questions. He follows the case from cops to courts, taking time off from work and showing up at endless hearings.

In the end, if the system works, the victim’s father gets to tell the judge what he must do in the cause of justice.

And that’s what Scott McKemy did — all of that over the last six years since his son’s senseless murder.

On Tuesday in the federal courthouse in Baltimore, McKemy had two things to say to Judge James K. Bredar: that, back in May, he should have given his son’s killer, Wayne Prince, more than 28 years in prison and that he needed to give a second defendant, David Warren, more than the prosecution had recommended. Thirty-three years would not be enough for someone who had caused so much suffering, not only for the McKemy family of Sparrows Point but for several families in Baltimore.

Back story: When I first met Scott and Angie McKemy in 2018, the prospects of an arrest seemed bleak. Baltimore was in the midst of a depressing run of homicides. Police were overwhelmed with more than 300 murders a year. It was hard to imagine they had the capacity for an all-out investigation of Bryan’s death.

Detectives didn’t have much: A neighbor said she heard six shots. A Ring camera captured a maroon Toyota Avalon; maybe it was the getaway car, maybe not.

But this much was clear: Bryan McKemy was the innocent victim of an insane shooting spree.

On a Tuesday afternoon in August 2018, Bryan and a co-worker were installing trim around the rear door of a house on Woodlea Avenue in Northeast Baltimore. Two men walked across the backyard with handguns. They had come to kill the owner, a rival drug dealer, in the process of renovating and flipping the property. But, instead of targeting their intended victim, the gunmen opened fire at the house, killing Bryan and wounding the other workman.

Police made no immediate arrests. But they had someone in mind: David Warren, a suspected hitman for the Black Guerilla Family, well known to cops and the courts.

A week after Bryan’s death, police stopped Warren in a maroon Avalon. Inside the car, they found a Glock .40-caliber handgun. And in the Glock, they found ballistic evidence that linked the gun to Bryan’s murder and several other gang-related shootings across Baltimore and Baltimore County. They had the gun but not enough evidence to link Warren to Bryan’s death.

At the time, Warren had already been accused of numerous crimes, starting with attempted murder when he was only 14. But, time and time again, between 2006 and 2015, local prosecutors dropped charges against him. He accrued a remarkable record of arrests or indictments without conviction.

Even when police thought they had him — for a wild shooting spree that left five people with grave wounds at a Memorial Day cookout in 2016 — prosecutors could not get a conviction. His trial jury apparently did not find the testimony of an eyewitness convincing, and Warren walked.

Over the next two years, he carried out numerous shootings for hire, according to the U.S. Attorney’s office.

In April 2018, inside a West Baltimore house, Warren and an accomplice executed a woman and her daughter, Chanette Neal and Justice Allen. They were the mother and sister, respectively, of Warren’s intended victim.

Two months later, Warren shot a man in Randallstown nine times. The victim survived.

Two months after that, Warren and Prince carried out the shooting at Woodlea Avenue, killing Bryan McKemy.

It was several months before the law started to catch up with Warren. He pleaded guilty in Baltimore County Circuit Court to charges stemming from the Randallstown shooting. The sentence was 25 years, with all but 10 suspended. Scott McKemy was in the Towson courtroom that day in 2019, keeping vigil.

Over the next three years, the feds put together a multilayered case against Warren and other BGF members.

In May, Prince received a 28-year prison term for shooting Bryan McKemy.

That did not sit well with his parents, so at Warren’s sentencing this week, Scott McKemy told Bredar he needed to do better.

“Brian’s killer,” he said, “probably won’t even serve the whole 28 years. He will be released when he’s still a relatively young man. Brian will never be released. He was sentenced to death and the rest of us sentenced to a life of grief.

“I’m speaking today because, at this defendant’s hands, there are other families like our family. We are all victims. … Maybe tougher sentences don’t deter these crimes. But if they offer an ounce of solace to the victims’ families, then tougher sentences are worth it. Judge, today you have another chance to get it right.”

Bredar sentenced Warren to 38 years in prison on top of the time he’s already served in the Baltimore County case. That amounts to about 45 years, and that’s higher than the government’s recommendation.

Scott McKemy said he wanted “my victim impact statement to have some impact,” and on the final day of his long vigil for justice for his son, I hope he believes it did.