Matthew Gyles Wallace’s cats lined up obediently in front of their food bowls, waiting for his signal like a pack of well-trained dogs.
Visitors usually stopped and stared. Cats were not supposed to behave like that. But Matthew had a way with animals — and with people — that made unusual things seem natural.
“He trained his cats the way people train dogs,” his mother, Charece Coburn, said with a laugh. “He would have four bowls out, and all the cats would sit there waiting. Then he’d tell them when to go eat.”
Matthew, who was killed on Aug. 14, 2018, at age 28, was the kind of person who constantly surprised people with his curiosity and creativity. He taught himself how to play piano, loved writing music and lyrics, learned Spanish from his wife Jackie’s family, and dreamed of someday becoming a veterinarian.
“He always loved learning new things,” his mother said. “He was always active.”
Born June 16, 1990, Matthew grew up in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn alongside his older brother, Darrell, and younger sister, Jessica. Raised in the Lindsay Park Houses, he spent much of his childhood outside at the park, hanging around his brother and cheering him on during basketball games.
“He loved his brother,” Charece said. “He was always supportive.”
As a child, Matthew was energetic and funny, with a gift for making people laugh. His mother said he could imitate almost anyone, contorting his face into exaggerated expressions while perfectly copying people’s voices and mannerisms.
“He could impersonate everybody,” she said. “He would make funny faces and have everybody laughing.”
Friends and family remembered him as somebody who naturally lifted the mood in a room. Charece described her son as “very unique” and said his kindness stood out to everyone who knew him.
“He had a good heart, a big heart,” she said. “He would do anything for people.”
Matthew graduated from Paulsboro High School in New Jersey and later moved to Philadelphia around 2009 to be closer to his longtime girlfriend, Jacqueline Alvarado. The couple met when they were both 16 and stayed together for more than a decade.
“They grew up together,” Charece said.
The pair built a life together between Philadelphia and South Jersey, often leaning on family while trying to establish themselves as young adults. Charece frequently traveled down from New York to help them settle into apartments, co-sign furniture purchases, and get on their feet.
“They were young and starting new,” she said.
Matthew worked with a friend’s moving company and briefly worked at Six Flags Great Adventure, but his interests stretched far beyond his jobs. He loved music and writing and filled notebooks with lyrics and ideas. He occasionally recorded songs in local studios, creating tracks focused less on violence or street life and more on motivation and positivity.
“He talked about positive things,” his mother said. “Motivational stuff.”
He also loved cooking. After spending years around Jacqueline’s Puerto Rican family, Matthew learned Spanish and became skilled at making rice, beans, chickpeas and other dishes he proudly photographed and sent to his mother.
“He liked to cook,” Charece said. “He’d send me pictures of these platters he made.”
Animals, though, remained one of his greatest passions. Though he did not grow up with cats, he became devoted to them after meeting Jacqueline, who loved animals too. Matthew spent hours teaching tricks to the cats they adopted together and dreamed of eventually returning to school for veterinary training.
Family members said Matthew shared a particularly close bond with his niece, Amina Johnson, whom he adored during the two years they had together. He was also deeply connected to his mother, and they spoke constantly, often every day.
“Me and him had a very close relationship,” she said.
Whenever she visited Philadelphia, Matthew would wake up early with her in the mornings before work, even when everyone else in the house was asleep.
In the years since his death, Charece has held tightly to the parts of Matthew that remain vivid: his jokes, his music, the endless curiosity that pushed him to teach himself new skills, and the sight of cats somehow behaving like obedient dogs under his command.
“He was loved by a lot of people. His heart was pure,” she said. “Every day goes by, I think about my son.”
