Jerwayne Hunter always had your back — even if you ignored his wise advice.
Scared and shoeless, Keisha Smith remembered paging her cousin at 3 a.m. after a particularly brutal fight with her boyfriend one night.
Jerwayne had warned Keisha not to date the older man, recognizing that he was a loose cannon. “He’s going to hurt you,” Jerwayne predicted. “When he does, call me.”
True to his word, Jerwayne rushed to the corner of 27th St. and Allegheny Ave. in North Philadelphia, carrying a jacket, tissues, and shoes that he had borrowed from his girlfriend for his distressed “sis.”
“He taught me how to be strong and have a guard up, but to be smart about your decisions,” Keisha recalled. “He taught me how to trust and how not to be a fool.”
A father of eight children, Jerwayne was killed on Jan. 3, 2022 while attempting to stop a robbery at a deli on the 2200 block of North Broad Street at Susquehanna in North Philadelphia.
According to police, the male shooter entered the store with a woman and pointed a gun in Jerwayne’s face while he was at the checkout counter. Jerwayne smacked the gun away and began fighting the man. They moved outside the store, where Jerwayne, 39, was fatally shot in the chest.
Three young suspects, including the driver of the getaway car, were arrested and charged in connection with the murder, according to Jerwayne’s family. Their trial is pending.
“I put it in the back of my head that he is just taking a long vacation,” said Jerwayne’s close friend and former girlfriend, Queenie Ballard, who calls him her “gentle giant.” “I just don’t want to face the fact that he’s gone.”
Born on August 23, 1982, Jerwayne was affectionately known as “Spook Black” because of his dark complexion. As the baby boy of the household — he had three sisters and a brother — Jerwayne forged an unbreakable bond with his mother, Lucretia Hunter, that lasted well into adulthood. He called her “black satin” and she nicknamed him “silky smooth,” because he was so slick. Later in life, Jerwayne grew closer to his father, Jackie Young.
Jerwayne and his daughter
A math whiz who felt unmotivated by his high school work, Jerwayne was offered a full scholarship to attend a boarding school away from his North Philadelphia home, Keisha remembered. But he never got on the bus that first day. (Later, he would tell Keisha that he regretted the decision every day of his life.)
Jerwayne worked odd jobs, such as selling magazines and cleaning hotels. He spent a couple years in jail, and after his release, he vowed never to return to prison and he kept that promise.
Raised Christian, Jerwayne turned to Islam later in life. He prayed every day, Queenie recalled.
“His faith meant a lot to him,” Keisha explained. “It kept him focused and safe and at peace.”
“He was so strong,” she continued. “He just took anything that was thrown at him.”
Most comfortable with a Black & Mild cigarette dangling from his lips and cradling a 211 beer, Jerwayne encouraged his friends and family not to stress or dwell on the past. He was an attentive listener and vocal Eagles fan.
He was fiercely loyal to those in his inner circle and not shy about saying “I love you,” or “kill ya self”— the latter an inside joke that briefly got him banned on Facebook. He also enjoyed cooking at all hours of the night, banging around while his mom, who lived with him, playfully cussed him out.
“You have no time to lose,” Queenie recalled Jerwayne saying. “You have to live every day like it’s your last.”
Jerwayne enjoyed rapping with his friend, Bruiz, and the “Sewey Hole Fam.” He toured the underground national hip hop circuit and his final song, “Body on a Roof” with Kizzy Warbucks dropped the same week as his funeral. He is buried in Greenmount Cemetery.
Jerwayne was most proud of his eight children, according to his family. He took them shopping and to amusement parks and couldn’t help but spoil his only daughter, Aniyah, “his little princess.”
Now in elementary school, Aniyah still carries her dad’s obituary in her backpack.
Jerwayne also served as a surrogate father for his niece, Lucretia Destoute, helping to clothe and feed her when she was younger. At first glance, his husky build was intimidating, yet he hung out at the basketball court, counseling neighborhood kids with absent fathers.
“He told them to be good, stay out of trouble and listen to their mom,” Lucretia recalled.
Jerwayne hoped that his own children would stay in school and choose a different path than he had. He expressed optimism that 2022 would kick off a new chapter for him, and he had planned to invest in real estate and a trucking business to leave a legacy for his children and help support his sick mother.
For much of his life, Jerwayne took care of his mom, also named Lucretia, but he never considered it a sacrifice, his family said.
“He never left her side,” Keisha remembered. “It was more than mother and son. It was best friends. He was her protector.”
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
