![]() ![]() “He really thought he was a chef,” LaToya said. He was handsome like a TV actor-warm eyes, optimistic countenance-and crazy about cooking shows on TV. Nathaniel, for his part, went by “AC.” “Those were the only letters he knew when he tried to sing the alphabet when he was little,” his sister LaToya explained. ![]() “She was Oozi because when her mother had the C-section, I seen how our daughter ooze out of her belly.” ![]() “She wasn’t named for no gun,” her father said. She was known as “Oozi,” which everybody thought sounded like “Uzi” but which her parents insisted was an innocent sobriquet, derived from the very moment she entered the world. Her father, James Davis, called her “the Kobe Bryant of Westinghouse,” the vocational school in Downtown Brooklyn. She liked dancing and double Dutch, and in ninth grade played on her high-school basketball team. Sahiah was five-nine and still growing, all limbs and shoulder blades, with a heart-shaped face and a straightened Afro that crested in a row of bangs. Near a playground on Bristol Street at around 11 p.m., Sahiah and several boys stepped toward him. Nathaniel was on a bicycle, in search of something to eat. They were both 16 and lived in Brownsville, the Brooklyn neighborhood where their parents had also spent much of their lives. Sahiah Davis and Nathaniel Walcott crossed paths a number of times during childhood, but the last came on April 25, 2011, the night she shot him. Photo: NY Post/Splash News/Corbis (Police Officers) © 2014 Google (Background, Riley Crime Location) ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |