Some paperwork was passed around and the lawyers whispered to their clients. After about an hour, Judge Furlow ordered the family released to the custody of their sponsors, Ernie and Ida Walker, and a date for their trial would be set later.
A small caravan left downtown Durham and ten minutes later turned onto a street near Central’s campus. The house was one of three in a triplex. It was new and had been built by an affordable housing coalition in partnership with the city. Murray had kicked in some money from the Sooley Fund. The home’s exterior walls were a bright yellow and almost matched Beatrice’s gomesi.
A crowd was already there. The IRC had rounded up a dozen South Sudanese refugees in the area and invited them to the open house. Most of Ida’s staff was there, along with Ernie. Coach Grinnell and his wife had stopped by.
When Beatrice and the boys walked up the sidewalk, the crowd clapped and yelled, “Welcome to your new home.” When they stepped inside and saw the furniture, the pretty pictures on the wall, the rugs, and a table covered with food, they were overcome.
* * *
·?·?·
Late in the afternoon, long after the guests were gone, Ida asked Beatrice if she wanted to visit the cemetery. She replied that she was ready for it. The families took two cars and drove ten minutes to Rustling Meadows Memorial Park, a modern-style cemetery without vaults and tombstones. All the graves were identical and were laid out in large perfect half-moons that covered a long rolling meadow.
They parked by the chapel and walked along perfectly landscaped trails until they drew close. Ida stopped and pointed to a newer grave with red dirt and fresh flowers. Murray took James and Chol by the hand and led them closer. A new granite plaque read: “Samuel Sooleymon, Born August 11, 1997. Died June 19, 2016.”
Both boys started to cry and wiped their cheeks. Murray backed away and watched as they each leaned on their mother.
It was a heartbreaking scene, and neither Murray nor Ida nor anyone else could begin to imagine their pain.
* * *
·?·?·
Two days later, after work, Murray stopped by the house and collected James and Chol. He had told them to wear their new sneakers. He drove them to the campus and parked outside The Nest, in Coach Grinnell’s reserved space. He proudly showed them his own key, opened the side door, and led them through the underground hallway until they emerged onto the court. They tried to absorb the place, with its shiny wood floors, its thousands of maroon seats, its banners hanging from the ceiling. In one corner there was a huge photo of Sooley in action.
Murray said, “This is where he played.”
They roamed around the floor, from one end to the other, trying to connect with the history left behind by their big brother, but they were too overwhelmed. Murray found a rack of balls and tossed out a couple. Chol was thirteen and already pushing six feet. He bounced a ball twice, pulled up, and fired away from 20 feet.
Nothing but net.
CHAPTER 63
On a spectacular autumn day in early November, a small crowd gathered, by invitation only, in front of the McDougald—McLendon Arena, also known as The Nest and the home of the Eagles. Under an oak, and with a gentle breeze scattering leaves, they sat in folding chairs and waited for the unveiling. Next to a small podium was the reason they were there. Under a maroon-and-gray drape, there was obviously a work of art or piece of sculpture.
The guests included all members of the current Eagles team, along with their coaches and managers. A dozen or so staff from the AD’s office. Another ten from the President’s. Some student leaders. The Walker and Sooleymon families and some of their close friends. About a hundred in all. A larger celebration had been discussed, but the brevity of the event dictated a smaller crowd.
There was only one short speech. The President took the podium and began, “Thank you for coming. This will not take long, but it will be something you will remember for a long time. We gather to honor the greatest hero in our school’s history, and to unveil a bronze image of him that will last forever. Sooley arrived on this campus a year ago, an unknown student-athlete who could not go home. This university gave him a scholarship and took him in. We had no idea what was coming. We freely gave to him and could not envision what he would give in return. He took us places we’ve never been, and, frankly, never thought we would go. He played the game with an enthusiasm that was contagious, and he played it with a talent that grew with each game and reached heroic levels. We will never forget Sooley, his big smile, his boyish excitement, his exuberant love of the game, and his intense loyalty to his teammates. We will never forget what he did for this university.