Project Diary: on this day, 25 years ago

It is tempting to say that Khadafy Washington, who was killed on this day, August 4^th, in Oakland, precisely 25 years ago, has had a greater impact in death than he did in life, until you begin to talk to those who knew and loved him. Before Khadafy was killed, families of most homicide victims in Oakland would be abandoned in the aftermath of a killing, left to their own devices at a time when they needed the most help, when they were desperate for just the faintest glimmer of hope and love. That is what Khadafy’s mother needed in that foggy August of 2000, as well as practical guidance through the painful business suddenly at hand when a violent death occurs. Shortly after Khadafy’s murder, she herself began stepping into shattered lives, comforting and guiding survivors of the killed in Oakland. It was hard work, painful work. Daily, by witnessing the fresh, raw pain, grief and anger of families whose loved ones had just been killed, she was returned in her mind to her own darkest days of pain and grief and shock. But she has persisted, for 25 years now, in Khadafy’s name, first through her own Khadafy Washington Foundation for Non-Violence, and today through Youth Alive’s Khadafy Washington Project. So, yes, Khadafy's impact since his death has been profound and profoundly good. His name has become synonymous with repeated acts of radical kindness.

I never met Khadafy, but of course he is a presence in my life. His mom talks about him all the time, with pleasure and enduring love. His sisters remember him as a great brother. Khadafy was in the middle of two of them growing up together in West Oakland. His younger sister says he was a playful, protective big brother.

Among those I have interviewed for this project about his mother and her ministry, I have met many people who knew and loved Khadafy, neighbors, coaches, his very best friend in the world. I thought today would be a good day to post a little bit of what they have said about the life of this important person, killed on this day, when he was only 18 years old, who in some ways will forever be 18 years old.

Ernest

Ernest Johnson was a painter of the Golden Gate bridge for 28 years. As soon as you finished the whole thing it would be time to start over. So he was a patient man, an observant man. Ernest saw what was special in Khadafy at a very young, when they both became part of Simba. Simba was a program founded in the late 1980s to help African American boys ages six to eighteen become good men. The men of Simba, volunteers like Ernest, would go through more than sixty hours of intensive training to learn how to act with the boys. There were books to read and your own problems and prejudices to set aside in service to the youth. There were camping trips to Yosemite, circles where men and boys could talk about their feelings together. Khadafy was probably seven years old when Ernest met him. “He was small in stature but you didn’t know it," said Ernest. "My first Saturday seeing him it was like, ‘man, who is this kid.’ His strength, his presence when he came into the room, he lit up the room.” It's the super-confident Khadafy many who knew him later would describe to me. “His head always up, chest out, no fear, asked any questions he wanted to ask. We used to always tell him, ‘use your powers for good,’ and he would look at me and laugh and say ‘leave me alone, Ernest.’ Sometimes you could tell that they were gonna do some good things in life.” Thirty years later, Ernest remembered a kid who owned whatever room he entered. “It was like seeing Barry Bonds or Willie Mays hitting a baseball. That’s how he was.” At seven.

Coach Carter

Alonzo Carter was the football coach at McClymonds when Khadafy transferred there from Skyline for his sophomore year. Coach Carter says Khadafy’s presence transformed the program at Mac. “You have to get your core West Oakland kids to stay home, and what better kid to get than a true leader and influential kid like Khadafy, he was so respected. Physically he was different, he was small, compact, but he would lift weights with a 6’5” offensive lineman, bench 350 pounds like it was nothing. When he agreed to come home to McClymonds, I knew he was gonna be a program changer for me.”

Markel

Finally, I was remembering a moment of connection and friendship someone told me about, one that said a lot to me about Khadafy’s ability to bond with people. When Khadafy was about ten years old, his family moved briefly to San Diego. His best friend in West Oakland, Markel, was devastated, and even when he was telling me about it many years later later I think I could see a sadness come into his eyes. Khadafy and his family were only gone for about a year, but it was a long year for the best friends. At one point, Markel and his family traveled from Oakland down to San Diego to visit. Khadafy’s mom didn’t tell him they were coming, she wanted it to be a surprise. When Khadafy opened the door and the two ten year olds saw each other, they hugged. Someone told me that they hugged for five minutes. It's a beautiful scene I think about a lot when I think about Khadafy. Two ten year old boys who couldn't play it cool. Khadafy and Markel would remain best friends for life. Markel would go on to become a basketball star at Mac, Khadafy a football star. Markel got a scholarship to play NCAA basketball in Wyoming. He left for Wyoming about a week after Khadafy's funeral.