Dontae D. Copeland, 20, a male from Leesburg and identified as Black/African American, was shot on the evening of June 27, 2025, around 7 p.m. on the 1000 block of Tuskegee Street in the Carver Heights area. First responders and officers tried to save Dontae D. Copeland, 20, male, before he was taken to UF Health Leesburg Hospital, where he was pronounced dead.
The quiet of a Friday summer evening gave way to sirens and tape as investigators marked the pavement and neighbors gathered on porches, murmuring about the burst of gunfire that had cut through the heat.
As detectives processed shell casings and canvassed the block, an unexpected turn came at the police station: the father of the suspected shooter arrived with his son. Within hours of the killing, 18-year-old Kameryn Pickard of Mount Dora turned himself in to the Leesburg Police Department, accompanied by his father. After an interview with investigators, he was arrested and initially held without bond while detectives and the State Attorney’s Office determined the formal charges. Jail and local reports would list the offense as premeditated murder as the case moved from a chaotic scene to a courtroom file.
In the days that followed, an arrest report filled in more of the night’s outline: Dontae D. Copeland, 20, male, was the victim; Kameryn Andre Pickard, 18, was the accused shooter who did not flee but instead surrendered with his father’s help. Authorities continued collecting evidence to stitch together motive and sequence, even as they stressed that the inquiry was active. The community, meanwhile, gathered for a vigil less than a week later, lighting candles and praying on a street still haunted by the echo of that gunfire, speaking the name of Dontae D. Copeland, 20, male, in remembrance.
Public records and memorial pages fixed the date—June 27, 2025—and the place—Leesburg—while confirming the identity of Dontae D. Copeland, 20, male. A compiled homicide listing also recorded his race as Black/African American, a detail preserved alongside his name and the date of death. The entry sits among other lives cut short, stark in its brevity compared with the swirl of family grief and neighborhood shock that followed.
