
Eric Robinson was nicknamed “Wrecker Hess” as a kid because he barreled through his grandmother’s bedroom like a Hess Truck.
He would emerge stomping around in her size 12 high heels, a silky nightgown slipping off his shoulders, wearing underwear on his head like a fashionable bonnet.
“Look, Nana!” he announced. Navella Bassette would bust out laughing.
Eric was visiting his grandmother the night before he was murdered in West Philadelphia. On April 14, 2002 at around 2 a.m., he left her home in the 5300 block of Master Street to pick up some Chinese food before heading to his mother’s apartment. He was shot just down the block from Navella’s house. When the 27-year-old tried to run back, he collapsed on the ground. He is buried in Merion Memorial Park.
It has been more than two decades and Eric’s killer still has not been identified.
“I don’t feel closure. I don’t feel at ease with none of this,” Eric’s older sister, Kamillia Robinson, said. “The person is still walking around and maybe killing other people.”
The last time Kamillia contacted Philadelphia police, she was informed that the detective assigned to Eric’s case had retired and that the trail had run cold.
Traumatized by loss, she has blocked out some of the details about her brother’s life. What she does remember is that he was her ultimate protector.
“He had a big personality and always cared about the women in the family,” she said.

Born on September 20, 1974, Eric spent most of his life in West and Southwest Philadelphia. As a boy, he was always antsy to go outside to skate, play wall ball or free throw into a net dangling from a street pole. When he chose to remain indoors, Eric and Kamillia competed at Donkey Kong and Pac-Man. Eric’s eyes were glued to the screen, refusing to let his sister win.
He often made breakfast for Kamillia, learning to cook when he was just 4 years old.
Eric was an extremely picky eater; nary a piece of bacon could sully his hominy grits. Each breakfast food had its designated place on his plate. One day, Joanne Bassette Robinson grabbed a step stool and taught her preschooler the fine art of scrambling an egg.
After that, Eric would rise early to make the family cheesy eggs, bacon and buttered toast sprinkled with sugar.
Later, Eric dropped out of John Bartram High School, but was seeking a stable career working for a utility company, Joanne remembered.
Eric had moved in with Joanne for several months and she agreed to give him $5 for every dollar he saved so that he could buy his own home. Shortly before he was murdered, he had won $1,000 shooting dice, she said. He could always count like a pro.
“I go in and out of depression,” Joanne said. “It’s never been solved…after so many years, I stopped calling [the police].”

As he grew older, Eric enjoyed the role of caregiver and rearranged his food service job at the then-First Union Center so that he could babysit Kamillia’s two children while she worked during the day. Kamal and Kamisha adored their live-in uncle, who challenged them to War (the card game) and treated them to water ice. Occasionally, he would hide in the basement and jump out as The Bogeyman, eliciting shrieks of delight.
At Christmas, he adorned the tree with fairy lights and placed the latest fad toy underneath for his niece and nephew. Attentive to his appearance, Eric dressed neatly and wore a splash of Frankincense oil.
After Kamillia’s third child was born, Eric was the one to help her recover, washing her sheets and keeping the older two kids occupied.
“Sis, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he told her.
“He was there. He was my rock,” Kamillia said.
If he and Kamillia ever exchanged harsh words, Eric refused to accept radio silence for a week.
“He was the one who would always make it right and apologize first,” his sister recalled.
Eric wanted a family of his own someday and had recently reunited with a former girlfriend.
“He would’ve been one of the best dads in the world,” Kamillia said.
A reward of up to $20,000 if available to anyone that comes forward with information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the persons responsible for Eric Robinson’s murder. Anonymous calls can be submitted by calling the Citizens Crime Commission at 215-546-TIPS. Information can also be submitted to the Philadelphia Police Department online or by calling 215-686-TIPS.
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
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