OPINION:
District boxing legend Mark Johnson lost his son this month to the virus.
Not the bug that has upended all our lives and consumed every minute of nearly every newscast and nearly every byte of every computer screen and nearly every inch of every newspaper.
The disease that claimed the life of 24-year-old Markiese Johnson has no special name — no coronavirus or COVID-19 or such. And while life will hopefully return to normal soon for most of us, with vaccines and treatments for the new superflu, there is no miracle cure for the pandemic of gun violence that claims 15.000 American lives a year and hits disproportionately among young black men like Markiese.
Study after study shows that black youths in the United States are twice as likely as white males to be killed by guns.
In Southeast D.C., where Markiese died, it’s a frightening way of life.
Markiese was shot and killed on Monday night, March 9, in the 2200 block of Savannah Terrace, according to police. He suffered multiple gunshot wounds and was pronounced dead at a local hospital. Police are investigating the case as a homicide and are offering a $25,000 reward for information leading to an arrest and conviction.
“I found out with a phone call from my ex-wife, his mother,” said the elder Johnson, a 47-year-old District native and the former flyweight and junior bantamweight champion of the world.
“She said someone called her and told her we need to hurry over there because Markiese had been shot. We got there and they had taken him to the hospital. Detectives talked to me, asking us about him. They rushed him to the hospital. He had some life left in him, but they didn’t know what the ride to the hospital would do to him.
“I really don’t know what happened,” said the retired boxer known as “Too Sharp” in his heyday.
Like many parents, Johnson envisioned something more for his son when Markiese was born 24 years ago.
“Once they are grown, they are adults and life takes people on different paths,” he said.
The father knows about the paths that lives can take.
Johnson was a celebrated world champion who made some wrong turns and wound up doing a year in federal prison near the end of his career for a parole violation and other charges. But the International Boxing Hall of Fame inductee has since tried to walk the right path and help young kids in the city find their footing.
Too many times for young black men in the District, the path is pain and hopelessness.
Johnson’s son had more chances than most to avoid those pitfalls.
Markiese’s father was a heralded champion fighter, a southpaw with a 44-5-1 record and 28 knockouts, considered one of the best fighters in history in the flyweight classes. He made a name for himself by leaving the District and fighting some of the best Latin fighters that dominated those weights in Los Angeles at The Forum.
He returned to the District as a champion and fought numerous times before hometown crowds at the D.C. Armory and the then-MCI Center, including winning the vacant International Boxing Federation World Junior Bantamweight Championship in 1999.
As he fought his way to the top of his sport, Markiese was at his side.
“He went to all my fights,” Johnson said. “When I fought at the Forum, he was there as a young kid. … He loved the fights.”
Markiese wanted to be like his father.
“He was a small guy like me but had one of the biggest hearts,” Johnson said. “He played Pop Warner football and high school football (Potomac High School) and he was always the smallest guy on the field. He was a good athlete. He played all sports.”
He went to Allegany College in Cumberland, Maryland, “but he got homesick and wanted to come back,” Johnson said.
Markiese tried to follow in his father’s footsteps in boxing.
“He loved boxing,” Johnson said. “I told myself I would never let my kids box, but he wanted to do it. He started doing it on his own, coming to the gym working with me. But he never had any fights. He was more of a gym rat.”
Johnson works with young kids in the District for the Department of Recreation. He has a gym at the Ferebee Hope Recreation Center in Ward 8 in Southeast.
Markiese helped, Johnson said.
Last week, Johnson talked to some of the young people from his gym at a candlelight vigil for his son about the contagious, dangerous life they must each navigate.
“One of the things I’ve told the kids and the young adults at the vigil is that he was shot in Southeast, where the most shootings happen,” he said.
“There is no trauma center over there, which makes no sense. If there had been a trauma center there, maybe he would still be alive and others as well. I told the people this is what you voted the mayor in for. This is what you have council members there for. Southeast needs a trauma center.”
That would be to treat those struck by the virus of violence, a way of life for young black men in the city — even when things get back to normal.
Hear Thom Loverro on 106.7 The Fan Wednesday afternoons and Saturday mornings and on the Kevin Sheehan podcast Tuesdays and Thursdays.
• Thom Loverro can be reached at tloverro@washingtontimes.com.
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