{leg a cy of hope}
They’d felt it years earlier when they lost J-Rock, then Sherrod, then NuNu and Woosie. ¶ The crush of painful memories takes them back: A somber voice on the intercom summons students to the au- ditorium. Sobs choke out the “We regret to inform you …” announcement. Students pour out their emotions to grief counselors. Memorial T-shirts start showing up all over campus. ¶ Eight years ago, Leatherman and Nesbit, now 22, had tried to write a different storyline for Ballou. Both were well- liked football players being raised by single fathers who had passed up offers for their boys to attend elite private schools in favor of Ballou, considered by some to be the worst high school in the city. Their studious boys could be good for the school, and the mostly black environment with nurturing teachers could be good for the boys, the fathers de- cided individually. The two friends agreed then to compete for the No. 1 spot in their class.
In a school better known for its troubles, this was rare:
two young black men, both gifted athletes with stellar aca- demic credentials, working as hard for A’s in the classroom as they did for wins on the football field — all in the open while somehow maintaining their popularity. Leatherman and Nesbit made it okay, cool even, to be smart. And by their senior year, many once-ashamed achievers had come out of the closet. This was the change the duo most hoped would last when they left Ballou to become roommates at the Col- lege of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Mass. Now, after all this time, Leatherman and Nesbit wonder:
Did any of what they had tried to leave behind here stick? Or were the forces that had tried to stand in the friends’ way — poverty, apathy, neglect— insurmountable? As Leatherman and Nesbit reacclimate themselves to their
former school, what they notice most is the melancholy — the absence of the high-octane energy they remember on a typical school day. Standing among the crowd of strangers is a famil- iar face, their former assistant football coach Albert Munson. “What’s up, Big Dog?” says Munson, smiling widely. To
him, they look mostly the same: Nesbit’s dreadlocks, spiky in high school, now flow down his back, while Leatherman still wears his hair in a puffy ponytail. Coach “Money,” as he was known back then, teases them as in old times, then grows se- rious. “I guess you heard what happened,” he says, looking down. “There’s a lot of stuff going on.” Moments later, the coach and the two friends are standing
in the cramped office of Ruth Jones, the school’s director of resource development. Jones is beaming. She joined the staff about a year ago, long after Ballou’s favorite sons graduated, but she hugs them as if she knows them. She recounts all she
20 The WashingTon PosT Magazine | OctOber 24, 2010
Previous pages: Wayne nesbit and Jachin leatherman with ruth Jones, director of resource development at ballou senior high school. This page, top: leatherman visits with his former teacher, ballou’s J.D. DiMattio. Bottom: leatherman and nesbit address ballou students during a May visit.
has heard. She is delighted to be their tour guide, but, she la- ments, the excitement will be tempered by the tragedy. Leatherman and Nesbit shake their heads and take it all in. “Alonte was just like you. He was on the right track,” Jones
says. “He had an internship with the City Council. He was pop- ular. He was a student who succeeded against the odds. …”
iT Was aT a Table in The cafeTeria, before first period on the first day of school in ninth grade, when the two decided to go head-to-head in a four-year competition
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108 |
Page 109 |
Page 110 |
Page 111 |
Page 112 |
Page 113 |
Page 114 |
Page 115 |
Page 116 |
Page 117 |
Page 118 |
Page 119 |
Page 120 |
Page 121 |
Page 122 |
Page 123 |
Page 124 |
Page 125 |
Page 126 |
Page 127 |
Page 128 |
Page 129 |
Page 130 |
Page 131 |
Page 132 |
Page 133 |
Page 134 |
Page 135 |
Page 136 |
Page 137 |
Page 138 |
Page 139 |
Page 140 |
Page 141 |
Page 142 |
Page 143 |
Page 144 |
Page 145 |
Page 146 |
Page 147 |
Page 148 |
Page 149 |
Page 150 |
Page 151 |
Page 152 |
Page 153 |
Page 154 |
Page 155 |
Page 156 |
Page 157 |
Page 158 |
Page 159 |
Page 160 |
Page 161 |
Page 162 |
Page 163 |
Page 164