Chasing a dream alone

Darrell Young faces his second chance without cousin C.J. Mills.

By JOE SMITH
Published September 4, 2007

ADVERTISEMENT [Times photo: Melissa Lyttle] Jefferson's Darrell Young, who lives with his aunt and uncle, sits on the floor of his "comfort zone" -- the room of his cousin C.J. Mills, who was fatally shot in April. Video: Friday night rewind Week 1 standings Your sports photos highschool.tampabay.com

TAMPA -- There will be days when Darrell Young rarely leaves his room.

The Jefferson senior closes his door, but not his heart. He scans the wall, where photos of his cousin and best friend, C.J. Mills, greet Young with the late linebacker's trademark smile and style.

Young sits for hours at the old desktop computer, where C.J. used to record his latest rap beats and rhythmically tap the desk table. He'll visit C.J.'s MySpace page, or stare at his screen saver, a photo of C.J. at the school's last homecoming dance.

Young's room, his "comfort zone," is C.J.'s old bedroom, preserved since the 17-year-old football star was shot and killed in his driveway in late April. C.J. was the reason Young moved to his aunt and uncle's home during thewinter from Monticello, where his school and home life suffered after he unsuccessfully searched for the father he has never met. Young came here for a second chance; he was granted a Florida High School Athletic Association hardship waiver and a fifth year of high school athletics eligibility to fulfill a dream of playing alongside C.J., winning a state title and earning a scholarship.

Instead, when the Dragons meet Robinson on Friday night in their home opener, Young, 18, will glance at C.J.'s old locker, his torn white jersey and pads still hanging from the rack. The playmaking receiver/running back will race on the field, carrying a commemorative flag adorned with C.J's No.8. The next day, he'll likely make his weekly trip to C.J.'s grave site and tell him all about it.

"Sometimes, I feel like C.J's still right next to me," Young said. "Like he never left."

To Young's aunt, Lucy Mills, C.J. is still here. "His spirit is alive in Darrell."

From plummeting to prospering

Football, as one Dragons assistant said, "may save Darrell's life."

When Young was 9 years old, he'd yell for his grandmother, Evelyn Williams, to peek out the window of her double-wide trailer in Monticello.

Young would flash his infectious grin. He'd hurl the ball toward the end of the 60-foot-long mobile home. Then, whoooosh. He'd run so fast, he'd catch it before it hit the ground. Apparently, Young's 4.39-second 40 speed - a reason senior Max Holloway calls him "the best athlete I've ever played with" - developed before he was a teen.

"Darrell has always been so fast," said Williams, who raised Young. "I couldn't keep up."

Young was forced to grow up quickly. His mother, Liwonda, struggled financially to support her seven children. In his sophomore and junior years at Jefferson County High in Monticello, Young worked 30 hours a week at a local dog track as a dog handler.

When he wasn't there, Young would work at Chicken Delite, a local KFC-type fast-food joint.

"Darrell had to be a breadwinner early on," Jefferson athletic director Bob Morgan said. "He had to be a man."

Young rarely had a man in his life, other than his uncle Ernest and, of course, C.J. Young stayed with the Mills family in Tampa until after his freshman year, when he decided to begin his search for his biological father.

His mother gave him a name. Young approached the man, who told him he wasn't his father.

"I want to meet him, to talk to him," Young said. "I want him to know I'm a good kid, that I'm doing well. I know he'd be proud."

The unsuccessful search shook up Young. He said he lost focus in school, and between that and his jobs, he missed a large chunk of classes, forcing his grades to plummet.

C.J. eventually asked his grandmother if he could move up to Monticello to be with Young.

"Sometimes," Lucy said, choking up, "I wish I had said yes."

Instead, Young made the first move to live with his uncle.

Young quickly made up his failed classes; he'd eventually take several summer classes - earning all A's - to bring his GPA above 2.0. But before he was unanimously granted an extra year of eligibility from the FHSAA's sectional appeals committee, Young's cousin was killed on the cusp of spring practice.

The night before C.J.'s murder, which is still unsolved, Young and several other teammates watched a tape of the Dragons' disappointing loss to Armwood. C.J. broke down the team's mistakes, vowing to bring them back to the state playoffs.

The next afternoon, Young was on campus after school when something inside him told him to "go home." Before he could get there, he got the phone call he'll never forget.

"They said C.J. was shot," he said. "I couldn't believe it. I still don't."

It took several days, Morgan said, before anyone could get a word out of a shell-shocked Young, a teenager typically so talkative he is glued to the phone.

Fittingly, one reason Young's phone rarely leaves his side is C.J., whose picture is on the screen. The senior will flip the receiver open, just to say hello.

"I miss him," Young said. "I always will."

FAST FACTS
Rally for Mills
To help keep the unsolved murder case of her grandson C.J. Mills alive, Lucy Mills has organized a rally Sept. 15 at 1504 Hubert Ave., behind the J&S Grocery in Tampa. The rally, which will run from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., will include Dragons coach Mike Fenton, Jefferson players and athletic director Bob Morgan, as well as community members.

[Last modified September 4, 2007, 06:49:02]