Family, Friends Mourn Death of ‘a Super Kid’ : Funeral: Robert Jin is buried with the football jersey he wore for Cypress High School. Many weep uncontrollably during a eulogy at the crowded chapel service.

The number 56 was boldly displayed across several cars parked at Rose Hill Cemetery in tribute to Robert Jin, 17, who was buried Saturday.

Jin, a Cypress High School football linebacker who wore the number 56 on his jersey, was shot to death outside his home early Thursday in what police say might have been a random act of violence by gang members.

About 300 friends, family members and schoolmates crowded a small chapel built to hold only 100. Many spilled into a lobby while four people eulogized Jin as a gentle, proper and well-liked young man.

During the morning service, a tear-stained friend tucked Jin’s football jersey into the casket. A miniature family photo in a silver frame was by his side.

Jin’s death has left police baffled and jolted the serenity at his school and the Korean community. A 14-year-old boy has been arrested in connection with the slaying and police are looking for another suspect.

“It’s still shocking,” school assistant football coach Steve Andersen said after the service. “He was a super kid. He was so quiet and worked hard. He cared about his teammates and virtually everyone around him.”

The funeral was attended by the entire Centurion football team, many of whom stood together with their heads lowered in prayers as pastors from the Miracle Land Korean Baptist Community Church opened the bilingual service.

When a close school friend, Kevin Lee, followed with an emotional eulogy in Korean, those in attendance, many in their teens, began to weep uncontrollably.

“He was a good athlete,” Lee said with a quivering voice. “But he not only loved sports, he was a good son, one who always helped out his mother.”

Jin is survived by his parents, Sung and Ing Ok Jin, and an older brother, Mike. The Jins came to the U.S. from Korea about five years ago to build a better life. When the parents were starting their own restaurant in Gardena, the two brothers spent hours helping them clean and remodel the eatery, friends said. The restaurant opened just weeks before Robert Jin was fatally shot.

“They all worked so hard together and then this tragedy happened,” said James Lee, one of Jin’s best friends.

Near the end of the service, Lee and eight other of Jin’s friends stood in front of the chapel and sang in his memory. A white carnation was pinned to the lapel of each of the nine young men signifying them as the pallbearers.

Some in the choral line closed their eyes tightly as tears streamed down their cheeks. Others were so overcome at one point that they could no longer sing.

At the time of burial, the nine friends, wearing white gloves, carried the oak casket to its final resting point. As a final gesture of their friendship, they then placed their gloves and flowers on top of the casket.

Beside the plot a mound of floral wreaths represented the outpouring of support from relatives and friends. Flowers plucked from the wreaths were gently laid atop the casket before it was lowered. Mike Jin sat quietly, clutching a white rose as he stared ahead at the casket where a picture of his brother rested.

Mourners walked away from the burial site after hearing the Korean proverb youth Pastor James Shin shared with them: “When your parents die, you bury them in the ground. When your own child dies, you bury him in your hearts.”