March 05--Ebonie Martin did what she could to protect her son, Deonte Hoard. She moved with her children from Englewood to South Deering, hoping to escape the gang violence of one of the city's most dangerous neighborhoods. When his grades started slipping, she took him out of Hyde Park Academy and transferred him to Englewood's Urban Prep Charter Academy, a high school that has managed to get all of its students admitted to college.
That was not enough.
With a dozen college offers in his pocket and just days from the ceremony at which students receive a necktie as an emblem of their college acceptance, Hoard on Monday became the first Urban Prep student since the South Side school opened in 2006 to fall victim to gun violence.
"We've been around for nine years, dealing with a population that statistically is the toughest of the tough," said Tim King, the founder of the charter school network. "But we've managed to not have this type of tragedy occur before now. We hope this is just an exception."
At Urban Prep, students are sheltered from violence and gang life; instead, they learn in an environment focused on achievements and rituals that emphasize respect. Like his classmates, the 17-year-old Hoard wore a crisp white shirt and blazer to school each day. Students call each other Mister.
A senior at the all-boys high school, he hoped to attend Michigan State University and play basketball, and maybe play professionally.
Although inside the school Hoard was protected, he faced a different climate when he made it home, according to King and members of Hoard's family.
"I think there is a perception that because of the level of success our students have reached, and the gains of admission to college and the notoriety, there is a misconception about who our kids really are and where they come from," said King, who acknowledged that he had long feared a student dying in this manner. "These are tough kids. They come to us poor and significantly behind. They are the population with the greatest need."
Hoard's death hit the student body at Urban Prep's campus in Englewood especially hard, King said. Most of the students returned to school Wednesday after a day off for testing and they were somber and distressed. They drifted through the school day and some at times burst into tears. Administrators at the school spent the day talking to the boys about how to deal with their emotions and move forward.
The administrators brought in four additional counselors to sit with the young students and talk, King said.
According to Chicago police, Hoard was near his home standing on a corner of 106th Street and Oglesby Avenue when an SUV pulled up around 7:15 p.m. Monday and someone inside opened fire. Hoard was hit in the chest; his friend Chester Palmer, 23, was grazed on the head.
On the night he was killed, he had stayed at school late to participate in activities and study, his mother said. His friends tried to convince him to stay around, but he rushed back to his South Deering community to make it home right as it was getting dark.
He was with Palmer, his neighborhood friend, when they were shot.
"We are all hurting," Martin said in an interview Wednesday. "Everyone loved him. ... We're comforting each other. I've said, 'You may be hurt. You may be angry. You may be mad. But you can't retaliate. You can't wish bad things on other people. You have to just pray for justice.' "
Palmer, in a telephone interview, said he and Hoard were walking through the 10500 block of South Yates Boulevard when a black SUV pulled up near them and stopped. They were going to get milk from the store, then maybe play basketball at a park gym. The car window lowered.
"I ducked and Deonte tried to run," he said.
Palmer was getting back on his feet to run behind Hoard when he felt a bullet graze the back of his head. Palmer said it knocked his red and black Chicago Bulls stocking cap to the ground. He said he noticed blood streaming down his face.
"All I heard is Deonte say 'Ahhh'! And he kept running and we both kept running again," said Palmer, who heard a number of rapid-fire gunshots. "He stopped and I just kept running all the way toward the house."
On Wednesday, no arrests had been reported.
Martin said that on Monday night she was lying on the couch when she heard banging on the door. She opened it to see Palmer standing there, bleeding from his head.
"Me and Tookie got shot," she heard him say, using Hoard's nickname.
She sent the boy's older brother Daquon out to look for him. In just moments, they spotted a crowd gathered just steps from their front door. As she eased through the crowd, Martin said she saw her older son kneeling by Hoard's body.
"Ma, I'm sorry. I tried to bring him home," she said Daquon told her.
Martin, a certified nurse assistant who works at Rush University Medical Center, said she tried to administer CPR.
"No movement. No breath. No pulse," she said. "I said, 'Can you please put a sheet over him?' "
Martin stood in the freezing cold for five hours as police investigated, and the medical examiner's office eventually removed her son's body.
"To see him put in a bag and taken away. That hit home," she said. "That's when I broke down."
Hoard grew up with his four siblings mainly in Englewood, Martin said. Four years ago, the family relocated to South Deering hoping for a safer, more quiet stomping ground. At first, the public housing complex was quiet because it was being renovated and few families were living there.
In recent years, that tranquil mood changed and neighborhood rivalries became more heated.
As a boy, Hoard was a standout basketball player. In ninth grade he attended Hyde Park Academy and played on the basketball team there. When his studies started to suffer, Martin quickly transferred him.
"I understood he played basketball, but if he hurt his knee, I wanted him educated," Martin said.
He was his mother's youngest son and would have turned 18 next week.
Hoard seemed to thrive at Urban Prep. He worked hard in his classes and brought home decent grades. He often talked about going to college and solicited the help of his family with applications.
"He was always pushing everybody to strive to do their best," said Rodney Johnson, 19, who was in class with Hoard for most of their high school careers. "He was always full of energy, he always got people hyped up."
Besides basketball, Hoard ran track, school officials said.
But Hoard didn't just excel in sports, his baby sister said. He kept his nose in the books too.
"He was the smartest," said Kayla Hoard, 16, on Wednesday, as tears streamed down her face. "He was cool with everybody. He was funny and he could put a smile on your face. He'd always bring peace."
His mother said she thought she had protected her son.
"I could see if my child was out in the streets doing things. But he wasn't. He went to school," Martin said. "I could see if he was 'that' kid. But he wasn't.
Tribune reporter Alexandra Chachkevitch contributed.
lbowean@tribpub.com
jgorner@tribpub.com
cgross@tribpub.com
