Simon Gratz students grapple with losing a friend — a pain too many Philly teens have endured

The lawn was filled with people whose lives were touched by Devin Weedon.

Dozens of classmates, teachers, coaches, and loved ones crowded in front of the towering columns of Simon Gratz High School Mastery Charter on Thursday night to honor the 15-year-old who was fatally shot on his way to school earlier this week.

They exchanged memories and laughs. They embraced long and hard. They cried and shared prayers.

There was a feeling of overwhelming grief, but also one of inspiration. A shared mission among young people that, moving forward, they would live like Devin: Give one more hug. Take the extra reps after practice. Say “I love you” every time.

“He had goals,” said Rashaun Gadson, 15. “We had goals. We all made a promise last summer that we were going to grow up and live good lives.”

“Now I only have one goal,” Gadson said. “To live for Devin. I’m going to fight for something.”

It’s a bittersweet motivation shared all too often by students across Philadelphia, as a growing number of teenagers and children have been injured and killed in shootings in the last five years.

This academic year alone, more than 85 Philadelphia students have been shot, and 18 have died.

» READ MORE: Slain Simon Gratz student Devin Weedon, 15, was a ‘rising star’ who ‘meant everything’ to his family and friends

At Simon Gratz, gun violence has long affected students’ lives. In 2021, three students were shot within a week — two fatally within 24 hours. In 2019, during a Friday night football game, gunfire erupted outside the stadium, injuring two teens and leaving players and spectators traumatized. Last May, three students were injured in a shooting right outside the school, minutes after classes were dismissed for the day.

And now Devin, shot in the chest during what police believe was an attempted robbery, two blocks from school on Tuesday morning.

But the students and staff of Gratz say they hold each other up every day, refusing to relent to the violence crisis and determined to rise above tragedy.

“It’s why I stay,” said offensive and defensive line coach Donte “House” Matthews. “It’s why I work in this school, to support these kids.”

Devin’s teammates on the Gratz varsity football team stayed together through Thursday evening, sharing stories and laughs.

“He made people happy to be around him,” said Qhyzir “Twigz” Clark, 17, his light brown eyes filled with tears.

Devin, a sophomore offensive guard and defensive lineman, wasn’t the most naturally gifted athlete, players said — “He was short but husky,” said Antwone El, 16 — but he was always the first at practice and the last to leave. If he made a mistake, he quickly adjusted, they said, and he never complained.

He showed teammates good form in the weight room, offered tips on meal prep, and was a mentor to new and old players alike, they said.

And he was a character. One time, he showed up to practice in a tank top and shorts in 50-degree weather, and once told a coach who wore big glasses he “could see smells with those things.”

Still, Khalil Jones said, “He knew when to pop off or lock in.”

“He was a sponge, anything you told him, he took it to heart,” Jones, 19, said.

And man, was he competitive, they said, especially with his older brother Aaron. They recalled a practice drill where the brothers went head-to-head.

“Devin cooked him,” said Jamir “Chop” Bell, 18.

Aaron, overhearing that, ran over.

“Nah, I slipped, I slipped!” he assured them, to laughs and shoves.

Once it was time for the vigil to begin, the players gathered inside the gym. To a round of applause, they emerged in pairs, arms locked, holding photos of Devin close to their hearts.

Throughout the evening, Devin’s family exchanged stories.

“I know my baby loved me, and my baby knew I loved him,” said Devin’s mother, Wytina Burnside.

Amid the countdown to release the balloons, his nine siblings shouted: “Who’s number 10?”

“Devin!”

But as the balloons drifted skyward, becoming red, black, and white specks among the clouds, the strength that family and friends had been trying to summon all night appeared to break.

Shoulders crumbled. His sisters sobbed into their hands. Students’ heads fell forward, as teachers pulled them close.

Yasirah Saunders-Ross, 18, cried into the chest of Devin’s father, Gary Weedon. Saunders-Ross met Devin through a mutual friend a few years ago, and quickly formed a sibling-like bond.

“I’ve never had a best friend so caring,” she said.

As Devin did with his family, he wouldn’t let close friends hang up the phone before saying “I love you,” she said.

She recalled their last conversation Saturday evening, over Instagram Live, and she accidentally hung up without saying those magic words. He immediately called her back.

“Love you, best friend” he told her.

“Love you, too, best friend,” she replied.

“But now,” she said Thursday, taking a deep breath, “I don’t have my best friend no more.”

Two years ago, Saunders-Ross’ 16-year-old brother, Jalen Jones, was fatally shot in West Philadelphia. Their birthdays were only two days apart, she said, and losing him brought a pain she didn’t know existed.

Now, it’s brought it all back.

In the aftermath of her brother’s death, she said she’s taken to art therapy and painting, and leans on her family for support.

But sometimes that’s not enough, said Will Latif Little, a Philadelphia life coach who helps people work through trauma, because the grief of losing a friend so violently is long-lasting and complex.

“Seeing a fellow student no longer there, you’ll be grieving for months,” he said. “It will always be in their mind — the seat that’s empty, the person on their football team who’s missing.”

» READ MORE: Can widespread trauma therapy prevent gun violence? This community leader says yes.

Little believes unaddressed trauma is at the root of the city’s gun violence crisis, and that because some kids don’t know how to process their pain, but have easy access to guns, they act out through violence, like retaliatory shootings and robberies.

Little knows the cycle well. At 18, his best friend was fatally shot, and two months later, seeking revenge and overwhelmed with anger, Little shot and killed another teen. He served over a decade in prison, and now helps people get their lives on track. He believes that schools must integrate emotional intelligence and personal development classes into the curriculum to give students the skills to work through their trauma.

Young people are eager to learn this, he said, and it’s urgent — especially as the weather warms, and more kids gather outside.

Outside Simon Gratz Thursday, Devin’s parents looked into the sea of people, feeling touched by those who loved him and affirmed by the kind words students shared about their son. They bowed their heads and held hands as a friend led them in prayer.

“We lend this city up to you, God,” the woman said. “We need this healing.”

Then together, the crowd said, “Amen.”