Will I live a long life?
I don’t know JoJo, I don’t know.
What do you tell a 15 year old, whose 20-year-old brother was gunned down in Miami, when he asks you this question?
The day after Marquis Sams was killed, I sat with 3 of his siblings aged 13, 15, and 19. They watched and rewound the news coverage, again and again, hoping to see their brother’s face in the bullet-riddled car.
Was that Marquis or an outline from a street light? Was he sitting upright? Did he slump over? They counted the holes in the metal frame, looked for cracks in the window, and tried to imagine how the shooter approached the vehicle.
They were puzzled and stunned. JoJo picked up the phone and called the morgue. I listened to his innocent voice ask if he could view his brother’s body.
13 years ago I decided to become a Big Sister with Big Brothers Big Sisters (BBBS). I can’t remember how they found me. I was in a roller coaster relationship, and I thought that I should better channel my time.
Somehow BBBS was there, ready with a simple
commitment of only 2 hours a day, twice a month.
It’s been the most over-the-top rich, rewarding, breathtaking experience of my life, because of the Sams family.
I have eternal gratitude to BBBS for the introduction, to our director Marianne Weiss, who took us under her wings, and to the entire Sams family, now my extended family, for expanding my heart with love that I never knew was possible.
I was matched with Marquis’ sister, six-year-old Shonda, who insisted on bringing Marquis with us. He was only seven years old when we first met, but he immediately gave me pause.
Marquis was that person who was so special that you knew your time with him was a gift. His gentle essence can never be described in words, but if you
believe in reincarnation you would say that his soul had been here many times and had learned the lessons of love, kindness, patience, and gratitude.
Or, if the Bible is your compass, as it was for Marquis, you would say that he exemplified Corinthians:
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Marquis Sams consistently exhibited these qualities as a child and never lost them as a young adult.
Seeking answers, the kids and I drove to the scene of the crime. It was one block from Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd. The painful irony of an incredible young man who led a life of nonviolence losing his life near a street dedicated to a man who carried a message of peace, did not escape me.
In the days after the shooting, I saw Miami as divided, not by race, but by the people who knew Marquis, and those who unknowingly perpetuated a stereotype. The principal of Marquis’ school, police officers, Big Brothers Big Sisters, the coach, pastors, the community, schools where scholarships were granted, and loving friends all wrapped their arms around the family and mourned the tremendous loss.
The three women who raised Marquis, Great Aunt Joallen, Great Grandmother Ethel Mae, and Joanne—or the “Holy Trinity” as I affectionately called them—were praised for the outstanding job that they did, raising such wonderful kids: Joy, Demetrious, Markell, Marquis, Shonda, Gregory (JoJo), Michael, and Chanel.
For the people who didn’t know Marquis and asked me questions such as, “What was he doing out at 1 am?” “Did he do drugs?” I know you meant well, but please
understand—it stung.
He was a good person. A better question would have been, “Tell me about Marquis Sams. What was he like?”
And then I would say, I can’t tell you about Marquis anymore than I can tell you about something as beautiful as the wind. It was an honor to know him.
Marquis Sams is survived by Joy Sams, Demetrious Sams, Markell Sams, Shonda Sams, Gregory Sams (JoJo), Michael Sams, Joallen Sams, and Chanel Sams.
