You have to look closely to see the scar. Even his synthetic eye isn’t immediately noticeable.
Andre Johnson’s effortless smile overwhelms those distractions. That he still flashes the disarming grin, five months after a hail of indiscriminate gunfire robbed him of his left eye and his half-brother, says plenty about the Carver High School junior, though it doesn’t reveal all.
“I don’t do much now,” said Andre during a break from football practice. “I don’t talk to too many people who aren’t on the football team.”
Football may not be life, but for Andre, it’s ballast. For a time it appeared he might lose it, too.
“It would’ve been unbearable for him,” said his mother, Alison Johnson. “It’s either play football or lay down and die. It’s the only time when he can put everything else out of his mind, because every day is about rebuilding.”
Five months ago, Andre was riding high, though his was not a charmed life. With the help of a close-knit family, Andre had managed to steer clear of the temptations that lurk in Peoplestown, a working class neighborhood just a few blocks south of Turner Field.
He focused on football, earning recognition as Carver’s defensive player of the year in 2008 -- quite an achievement for a still-growing 15-year-old. A move to linebacker, more suited to his size and talents, was planned.
“He has the potential to play for a major college program,” Carver coach Darren Myles said after the shooting.
April 5 was the first day of spring break. Andre was hanging out with his shadow, half-brother Nick Martin. “Nick was all about the ladies,” said Nickolas Johnson, Andre’s older brother. “Nick would be getting girls for the both of them.”
Sure enough, on that first Sunday in April, the brothers had a couple of girls over to Martin’s mother’s apartment on Hank Aaron Drive in Peoplestown.
A night of Xbox and flirting was chilled by the sound of gunfire. Then a phone call from Andre’s mother telling her son to hurry home.
"We were standing outside, and there was six people standing in front of a Saturn," Andre recalled. "They started shooting in the air. We didn't know who they were."
But they were targets nonetheless, innocent bystanders in an ongoing turf war between gangs in the bordering neighborhoods of Peoplestown, Pittsburgh and Mechanicsville.
They scattered on instinct -- Andre headed east, across Hank Aaron Drive toward home. Bullets followed.
The one that hit Andre shattered his jaw before whistling past the brain and out his left eye. Andre kept running, leaving a trail of blood that ended at his mother’s house.
He’d lose nearly a pint that night. Doctors say he was fortunate to survive.
Nick never had a chance. The bullet that entered his head stopped him in his tracks, about 10 feet from his mother’s back door. He was pronounced dead less than 24 hours later at Grady Memorial Hospital, where his brother was just beginning an arduous recovery.
Andre didn’t know that Nick had been shot, let alone killed. His family kept the news from him as long as they could, but Andre was suspicious: “I knew something was up when he didn’t come visit me in the hospital.”
Andre received confirmation watching the six o’clock news.
“We were real close, talked to each other about everything,” Andre said. “I don’t have anyone to talk to now.”
He began having nightmares that persisted even after his release from the hospital. Those dreams are less frequent now, but Andre still struggles with his half-brother’s death.
“He still has trouble sleeping,” his mother said.
Playing football helps, though for a time his doctors warned him it may not be possible.
“I told the doctor I was playing again,” Andre said. “No way I wasn’t going to come back.”
His mother worries, but she knows football plays a pivotal role in Andre’s emotional recovery.
“They [Doctors] are concerned about maintaining the vision in his good eye,” she said. They relented when Andre grudgingly agreed to play with a fiberglass shield built into his face mask.
“I don’t want no sympathy,” Andre said. “I don’t want anyone treating me different.”
But there are limits. The move to linebacker was shelved, as the position demands a greater visual awareness.
“Gotta keep my head on a swivel all the time,” Andre said.
He acknowledged some reluctance the first time he took the field in an organized scrimmage, held the week before Carver’s opener. “I’ve never felt scared or nervous playing football before, but I was a little hesitant,” he said.
An opposing lineman promptly took advantage, knocking Andre to the ground with a block to his blind side.
“After that I was fine,” he said.
And getting better. In Carver’s second game, Andre sacked two. More importantly, he’s recovered some sense of normalcy -- of life before the shooting.
“It’s important to him because Andre feels he can do anything,” said older brother Nickolas Johnson. “He has the pride of a cage fighter. I never doubted him.”
His psyche is still a work in progress. Living a block away from the shooting didn’t help, so he and his mother have moved to an undisclosed location. The streets he used to roam have become, in Alison Johnson’s words, “a trail of tears.”
Atlanta Police have arrested two men charged with Nick’s death, but the case remains active.
There are moments when Andre doesn’t think about that cold April night, but forgetting wouldn’t be fair to his brother.
“I got his picture on my IPod,” he said. “Want him close to me.”
He still plays Xbox, mostly by himself.
“Nick wanted to go to college and learn how to create video games,” recalled Andre, flashing that big smile one more time before snapping on his helmet and returning to the tranquility of the football field.
About the Author
Keep Reading
The Latest
Featured