He went by Anthony and Kareem at different points in his life, but by the time he became an adult, Ninetyfive South Stewart had embraced his unusual name.
“It brought him a lot of attention, and he loved attention,” his sister Darlene Lee said.
Ninetyfive was born at the Dover Toll Plaza in Delaware on Interstate 95 South on May 22, 1991. The family was headed to North Carolina when Ninetyfive’s mother, Patricia Faison Boyer, started going into labor in the car. No one knew she was pregnant.
“I just remember being in the car waiting for him to be born,” recalled Darlene, who was four at the time.
Ninetyfive was adopted by his grandparents, Gloria and David Stewart, and raised alongside Darlene and two younger brothers in North Carolina. When he was about 10 years old, the family relocated to Philadelphia.
Ninetyfive wanted the best for his loved ones, and he urged them to join him in eating vegan and learning more about the world. He would take photos of books he was reading and send them to his family, recommending that they check them out so they could discuss them.
But just as suddenly as he came into the world, he was gone. On Dec. 28, 2021, Ninetyfive told Gloria he was going out to meet someone. A short time later, he was fatally shot in a vehicle at 16th and Susquehanna in North Philadelphia. He was 30 years old. Police have not made any arrests.
“He taught me a lot,” his mother Gloria Stewart said. “He said, ‘Mom, you can’t fix everyone’s problems. Worry about yourself. Do you.’ He wasn’t a baby anymore, but he was my baby. Ninetyfive was caring and giving. He had a good personality and a good spirit.”
Ninetyfive’s name made him stand out, and not always in a good way, so growing up he sometimes went by more common names to fit in. Gloria said when he was about 10 years old, he’d walk around the house saying, “Who’d name a child Ninetyfive? Ninetyfive?!”
“He finally ended up loving his name, and people who didn’t even know him loved it too,” Gloria said. “When people would meet him, they’d go home and tell everyone that they met this guy named Ninetyfive because he was born on Interstate 95. They just loved that name.”
Darlene remembers riding bikes and playing Nintendo with Ninetyfive when they lived in North Carolina, but their favorite activity was bouncing on the backyard trampoline. They’d wake up and immediately run outside to jump and bounce.
Ninetyfive was a typical boy growing up. He was mischievous — Darlene recalls him and their brother setting the linoleum flooring of their North Carolina kitchen on fire — but no one could stay mad at him for long.
“Everyone wanted to be around him because he was super silly,” she said. “He made you laugh, and he made you want to protect him at the same time.”
Ninetyfive had a stutter as a child. He took speech therapy classes and learned to speak slowly and intentionally, so he meant every word he said.
Ninetyfive attended North Dupin Elementary School in Calypso, NC and Grantham Elementary School in Grantham, NC. In Philly, he attended Walter George Smith Elementary and Pierce Middle School in Point Breeze, followed by Roosevelt Middle School in Germantown. He graduated from Germantown High School.
His dream was to start his own business. He dabbled in making and selling juices for a time, and he was constantly on the hunt for new business ideas.
“He was trying to get people around him to go into business with him,” Darlene said. “Anything he felt someone was good at, he’d come to them with a proposal.”
Ninetyfive was enrolled in business courses at the Community College of Philadelphia. Rather than taking out student loans and going into debt, he paid as he went, taking one or two classes at a time.
He worked odd jobs here and there, but his main focus was being Gloria’s caretaker. He had his own apartment in Northeast Philadelphia, and he also had a room at her house in North Philly, where he’d stay most of the time. He struggled under the weight of the responsibility, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ninetyfive made sure Gloria ate plant-based meals, but one night Gloria had a piece of meat with her grandson when he wasn’t home. She got sick, and she was afraid to tell Ninetyfive it was because of what she had eaten.
“He said, ‘Mom, what did you eat? You can’t eat that stuff!” Gloria said. “He kept me on track. Yes, he did.”
Ninetyfive was known as being reliable and supportive, even in the midst of arguments. When a loved one needed him, he was there.
“No matter what we went through, I could always call him for anything,” Darlene said. “We could not be speaking to each other and if I called him for help, he would just do whatever needed to be done, then we’d go right back to not speaking. That’s how genuinely good-hearted he was.”
Ninetyfive enjoyed playing basketball and listening to music, especially hip hop and oldies. He liked his pants and shirts to fit tight, despite Darlene teasing him about it.
Over the last few years of his life, Ninetyfive had been on a self-improvement quest. He became inactive on social media and dedicated himself to learning more about humanity by reading books on spirituality and psychology. He was a devout Muslim and gave up animal products in favor of a vegan lifestyle.
“He’d send me text messages, ‘Yo, read this book and we can talk about it later,’” Darlene said. “He wanted everyone to understand who they were and have knowledge of themselves and the world so they could be better people.”
In addition to his biological mother, adoptive parents and sister, Ninetyfive is also survived by brothers Gregory, David, Stephen, Thomas, Durand and Jaheim; sisters Iesha, and Antoinette; stepfather Raheem McQueen; grandfather Thomas Player, longtime girlfriend Lakia Murphy; bonus children Kiyon, Jordan and Justin; and a host of nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles.
He is laid to rest at Chelten Hills Cemetery.
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 person responsible for Ninetyfive’s murder. Anonymous calls can be submitted by calling the Citizens Crime Commission at 215-546-TIPS.
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
