A brief morning wait, that's built into a long afternoon, a stoic silent ride to Temple University hospital, followed by what seemed like floating through miles of long white antiseptic halls. That led to a vision of a man who stilled so much in me lying there helpless clinging to each breath. This was the day my Father Sean Noelle Davis Sr was murdered, but at 11:30 AM on May 21st no one told me. Then, a freshman in high school. An hour later, still waiting I didn't know. Three hours later still nothing. No one was answering their cell phones. Finally at around five that afternoon, a family friend showed up, summoned me to get into the car and they drove me to Temple hospital.
The family friend wore a blank expression looking straight ahead no eye contact with me. My father was stopping to get gas on his way to pick me up from school, and he was targeted. He was shot multiple times in the left chest and his mandible, and his friend was in the car with him. My father got back in the car, was trying real hard to drive it. My father being all the man that he can be made it about a block before the car actually flipped over. I was a freshman and it was the middle of finals. I was never really told. He was on his way to come and get me from school, and I was sitting out there on the steps for what had felt like forever. Finals finished at 11:30, and they let us out early. I sat there on those front steps for the longest time, calling everyone and no one was picking up.
Everyone knew what happened but me. When the family friend arrived, they took me to the hospital, led me to the floor that my father was on. I saw my father, and I was absolutely distraught, but I remember I wasn't crying. I was sitting there thinking I couldn't bring myself to cry. I just couldn't. After that, it felt like my heart didn't beat for at least two years. His legacy of devoting his life to the people around him and being of service wherever he went, never left me. In this instant I had to use my past to evolve into my present. Once he passed, I started recognizing some of the men that played a key role in my life. My high school football coach, Kevin Fontay, my grandfather, my advisor, Doctor Provost, and even just my older brother Shawn. All served as role models for leadership or as I better know it, eating last. They put the ones they loved first in their lives to ensure that the people they were leading were able to be to their full potential, leading so that others may thrive. My father used to say that you're never lost if you've got the gas to keep going. Little did he know he gave me exactly what I needed.