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Long, Grinding Road Leads to Uncertainty

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Times Staff Writer

Josh Guillory swayed to the music inside his mother’s Lynwood apartment, his white tank top highlighting chiseled arms and square shoulders. It was a weekday afternoon, a time when he’d ordinarily be polishing his moves accompanied by the screech of sneakers on a hardwood floor.

But Guillory, a high-flying 6-foot-5 swingman, has been grounded since Dec. 28, the day he sparked the Lynwood High boys’ basketball team to a 58-56 victory over Los Angeles Jordan.

That appearance, in what should have been an inconsequential game of a holiday tournament, led to the loss of his athletic eligibility, the resignation of Lynwood Coach Mike Acheanpong and bad feelings among relatives, friends and another team some 2,500 miles away.

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That’s because when Guillory played for Lynwood, he was enrolled at Tucker (Ga.) High outside Atlanta, where he was the team’s second-leading scorer.

How could such a thing happen?

The answer can be traced to Aug. 18, 2004 -- the day Justin Guillory, Josh’s older brother, was killed.

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On Josh Guillory’s left triceps is the handwritten tattoo of his mother’s name, Trish. More apparent is the large portrait on his right triceps of Justin, the victim of a drive-by shooting nearly 18 months ago.

Justin also had a tattoo of his mother’s name. It was written vertically on his sternum. Trish saw it for the first time as he lay in the morgue.

According to family members and police detectives, it was just after midnight when Justin escorted his girlfriend to her car, parked only three houses away from his father’s home in South Central Los Angeles. After driving home, she tried to phone Justin. His father answered instead and, after a brief search inside the home, he found Justin’s body lying just outside the front door.

“Somebody had drove by and shot him,” said Trish, a single parent of three who for the last 30 years as a nurse has cared for critically ill patients at Veterans Administration Hospital in Westwood. “They believe it was [a gang] initiation because he had never been into anything.”

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The unsolved murder robbed Josh of his only brother, his best friend and the family’s protector. Josh and Justin had spent most of their time together since they were toddlers. Although 2 1/2 years apart, they regularly dressed alike as children and were often mistaken for twins.

As they grew, they fed each other’s passion for basketball, playing one-on-one well into the night, then squaring off again over a video game in their cramped bedroom.

Josh said he didn’t feel as if his brother had died until he saw him inside his open casket.

“I’m looking at him,” Guillory remembered, “and he’s really gone.”

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Josh Guillory was born in Monterey Park, spent part of his childhood in Moreno Valley and Los Angeles and, after his parents divorced, settled with his mother and brother in Lynwood.

Guillory chose to attend Long Beach Poly, where he became one of only two freshmen on the varsity. But when Coach Ron Palmer retired at the end of his 25th season at the school, Guillory said he didn’t feel welcomed by the new coach.

Transferring to Lynwood, he started as a sophomore and junior, attracting attention from schools such as Georgetown, Marquette, Pepperdine and USC.

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Josh and Justin made two trips to the Atlanta area during spring vacations to visit their sister, Shay, who lives in Decatur, Ga. After another visit last spring, when he took along his best friend, Ryan McNichols, Guillory emerged with a life-changing declaration.

“He said, ‘Mom, I think this is a better place for me,’ “Trish remembered. “ ‘The kids out here, they don’t bother you about the colors you wear. They’re not into the gang scene. You can be free and walk down the street here.’ ”

Trish balked at the thought of her only surviving son leaving her side, but relented.

“The thing that sold me on it was him being safe,” she said. “I’d give up anything for my son to walk down the street without the threat of being killed.”

A week after school let out last summer, Guillory and McNichols were on a plane to Atlanta.

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Trish managed to hide her anguish about being separated from Josh during their regular phone conversations, but as the holidays approached she was especially depressed, not getting out of bed on some days.

So she bought Josh a ticket to come home for a visit while school was out and tried to put on a bright face when he arrived Dec. 23.

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But Josh sensed her sadness.

“When my brother was here, he was the oldest male after my mom and dad got divorced,” Guillory said. “He was kind of like a role model to me and the man of the house. I kind of felt like I didn’t want to leave my mom here by herself.”

Guillory was also growing restless with his reserve role at Tucker, which had every player back from a team that had finished 27-4 and reached the Class AAAA state championship game the previous season.

“I was still averaging 20 points,” Guillory said. “It was, kind of like, awkward to be on the bench and know that I should be out there.”

Between homesickness and dissatisfaction with his playing time, Guillory said he wasn’t enjoying his life in Georgia. That’s why, two days after Christmas, when Guillory was supposed to be playing with Tucker in a tournament at Morehouse College in Atlanta, he was still in Lynwood.

Guillory and Tucker Coach James Hartry exchanged phone calls that day and, after originally telling Hartry that he was experiencing flight delays, Guillory admitted he was tempted to remain in California.

He then told Hartry he would call him when he had made a decision.

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Guillory said he sat on Lynwood’s bench during the first two games of its tournament, itching to play.

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He said he asked the Lynwood coaches if he could play in the third game of the tournament against Jordan, one of the top teams in the City Section.

“They said it didn’t count,” he said. “So it didn’t matter if I played.”

Acheanpong, Lynwood’s coach, said he was “under the assumption” Guillory was in the process of re-enrolling at the school.

“He’s a Lynwood kid,” said Acheanpong, who was in his fourth season as coach. “He was a two-year varsity player for us.”

Jordan Coach Van Myers knew Guillory from youth basketball circles. Before the game, Myers said Guillory made it clear to Jordan’s players that he was not enrolled at Lynwood.

During the game, Myers said Guillory inspired his teammates with several flashy dunks.

“His presence was really key for them,” said Myers, who added that because the loss didn’t have any ramifications for his team, he didn’t inquire about Guillory’s eligibility.

In the stands, however, was a spectator who anonymously contacted local high school sports administrators. They, in turn, called Lynwood Athletic Director Rick Smith, who had been out of town over the holidays.

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Before the school could complete its investigation, Acheanpong resigned. “I was going to quit after this year anyway,” he said.

Shortly after the game, Guillory decided to return to Georgia -- until he learned he had lost his athletic eligibility there for a year because he had played for Lynwood.

“I can’t play back there,” he said, “so I might as well just stay out here.”

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McNichols, who accompanied his friend across the country, has also had his senior year thrown into disarray.

He figured he would have been, at the least, a key reserve this season for Leuzinger, one of the Southland’s top teams. But he said he and his mother were influenced by Guillory’s initial desire to live in a safer area.

After Guillory failed to return to Georgia, McNichols said he no longer felt welcome.

“I’m not playing because I’m suffering the consequences from [Guillory’s decision],” he said. “We’re two different people, but sometimes the company you keep wears off on you.”

Guillory’s sister, Shay, 33, said she hasn’t spoken to her brother since he left. McNichols said he has talked to him only once.

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“If it were up to me, he would have come back, period,” said Shay, whose brother has not attended classes anywhere since the issue arose in late December but was expected to resume at Lynwood when the third quarter begins Monday. “You don’t start something and not finish it.”

As for Josh’s status as a college prospect, he and his mother are confident those doors will remain open. But if they don’t, they know that’s not the worst thing that can happen.

“After the death of a child,” Trish said, “everything else you go through in life is child’s play.”

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