In the eyes of his younger sisters and cousins, Rahmeer Jackson was more than just a big brother figure; he was a source of unwavering love and protection. His actions spoke volumes, as he embraced the role of a guardian with sincerity. Whether on a crowded city street or in a quiet neighborhood, he had an innate sense of responsibility to shield those around him from harm’s way.
“He was more a big brother to me than a cousin,” says Rahmeer’s cousin, London, 13. “He would walk me with me to and from school so I didn’t have to walk alone, and I could always talk to him if I had a bad day. Even if I was wrong, he would support me in public and disagree with me in private. He made me realize that I wanted to have a brother.”
Rahmeer’s sense of guardianship extended beyond his family, to neighbors and friends in the community. Rahmeer’s mother, Kareemah Jackson, recalls that Rahmeer would regularly wake up early to wait on the porch for their block captain, a neighbor who had recently undergone chemotherapy.
“He would set his alarm so he could wake up, then walk her to her car and help her carry her bags,” she says. “Later in the day, he would grab her bags and make sure she parked her car and got back to the house.”
The West Philadelphia community experienced an immense loss on the afternoon of June 20, 2023, when Rahmeer Jackson tragically lost his life to gun violence on the 5200 block of Walnut Street. No shooters have been identified in this crime, which intensifies the pain felt by family and friends. He leaves behind his mother Kareemah, father Rashaad Lambert, and “bonus dad” Michael Richardson. Rahmeer and Michael had a special bond, evidenced by Rahmeer’s preference for “bonus dad” as opposed to “step-dad.”
“I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone,” says his mother. “I don’t want to see anyone go through this pain. It hurts so bad. I wait for Rahmeer to come home, but I know he’s never coming home. We all just want to know why this had to happen.”
Growing up on the 5300 block of Chancellor Street, Rahmeer attended W.C. Longstreth Elementary School and Beulah Baptist Day School, going through the rites of traditional boyhood mischief along the way.
“He started testing me and my husband Michael at a young age,” Kareemah says, recounting the day 9-year-old Rahmeer used her credit card to order Bayblades on the internet without her permission. But like most kids, Rahmeer was just as innocent as he was sneaky.
“As a child he loved the Power Rangers movie,” says his mother. “He could tell you when every other Power Ranger movie had come out; when the series ran and ended, he knew every Power Ranger name, every color. He was just carefree. Food was the way to his heart; he loved spaghetti, maple brown sugar oatmeal, and especially ‘Mike Burgers,’ his dad’s famous hamburgers.”
The confident child grew up into a charismatic young man who graduated from William Sayre High School, excelled at chess and basketball, and was a talented singer and rapper. Never afraid to be the center of attention, Rahmeer loved singing for family and friends, performing a rendition of “This Christmas” by Chris Brown each year for the holidays.
“He was authentically himself,” says Kareemah. “Rahmeer wasn’t the type to follow. He voiced his opinion and felt confident in himself, so naturally people were drawn to him. There was something about him. He hung around with a group of friends where he wasn’t the oldest, but they looked to him as a leader because he doesn’t follow.”
Rahmeer also leaves behind a girlfriend, whom he loved deeply and had known since childhood.
“Rahmeer was always particular about this one person,” says Kareemah. “He had known Quahnirah since elementary school and they found their way back to each other late last year. I love her to death, like she was my own daughter. I’ve known her since she was 8 years old when she came to Rahmeer’s 9th birthday party. Even then I could tell by the way he looked at her, he always had a thing for her.”
His younger sisters Mikenzie and Kimora and grandmother Terry are also struggling with the reality of life without Rahmeer.
“He was my protector,” says his grandmother, a nurse who worked alongside Rahmeer at Saint Ignatius Nursing Home. “The residents all liked him, they called him Meer-Meer. They all ask about him still, saying why so soon? It is a hard thing to understand that he’s gone. I just pray to the Lord. You have to be strong.”
Mikenzie, age 9, has never known a life without her big brother. In fact, Rahmeer named her just minutes after she was born.
“He was so proud the day I had his little sister,” says Kareemah. “She was born premature and had to stay in the NICU. He would sit next to her in the hospital room and just watch over her, talking to her while she was being fed through the tube. He gave her her name, and was so proud to be her big brother.”
“I just miss hearing his voice,” says London, who is reminded of Rahmeer’s absence each day on the walk to school.
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
