Digital Extra: The shooting of Sgt. Cornel Young Jr.

By George Quinn

The late Providence Police Sgt. Cornel Young Jr. had a vivid imagination as a child. Herewith an example, which was read by Mayor Cianci at Sergeant Young's funeral.

TWENTY YEARS AGO, Cornel Young, Jr. - the heroically slain Providence police officer — was a student at Mary Fogarty Elementary School, on Oxford Street in Providence. I was Cornel's guidance counselor; even then, he wanted to be a hero.

Cornel was a cute little guy. In those days he wore glasses, I believe. He was very well behaved and always looked neat, clean and well cared for. I never would have gotten to know him, if he hadn't stopped me one day in the corridor.

"Kids told me that you take them for a talk. I like to talk. Would you take me some day?”

I took Cornel that afternoon and once a week for a half hour thereafter for a while. The first few sessions were pretty much run of the mill, with Cornel talking about his friends, their adventures, trouble with math — normal subjects for a gentle boy like Cornel. Then, on perhaps our fourth session, he told me one of the best stories I ever heard a boy tell in my 35 years of being a teacher and a counselor.

"What did you do this weekend," he asked?

Instead of answering him, I asked what he did, then got out of his way.

"My father took me to a football game. At a place called Brown University."

He gave me a questioning look to see if I knew what he was talking about. I gave him a nod.

"The game was between Brown University and another team. (Pause.) The name of the other team was . . . (longer pause) Cornell."

Big questioning look. Another nod.

"It was a real good game. But nobody could score. They went up and down the field all afternoon but nobody could score. First, Brown University went to the goal of Cornell but couldn't score. Then Cornell went to the goal of Brown University but they couldn't score either. Finally, with one minute to go in the game, Cornell went to the goal of Brown University and called time out. The Cornell players walked over to the stands and they all started calling up to the audience. 'Hey! Is there a little boy up there named Cornel? Hey! If there's a little boy up there named Cornel, raise your hand. All the Cornells were shouting.

"I said to my father, should I raise my hand, Dad. 'You can if you want to,' he said. I raised my hand. Now all the Cornells came up and stood around me. They said, 'Hey! Do you want to help us win this game?' I said, 'Sure.' The Cornells said 'Okay, come on down to the field with us. You're one of us.' I said, 'Wait a minute. I'm gonna have to ask my Dad if I can go.'

"My Dad said I could go but to be very careful down there because all the players were so big. I told him that I would. When we got down there all the Cornells got around me and bent over so that the Brown University couldn't hear our plan. They said 'we need a little boy to bend over low with the ball so Brown University couldn't see him and then run between their legs for a touchdown.' Can you do that? 'Sure,' I said.

"So the boss of Cornell, the one who gets the ball, told me to stand behind him. Then the players lined up, he gave them the signal, got the ball, gave it to me, and I hid there until I could see some space between the players' legs. After awhile, I saw a little more space. I ran for it and scored. The game was over. Everybody was happy and cheering. The Cornells picked me up and carried me off the field on their shoulders.

"Mayor Cianci invited me to come to his house. I said, 'Sure, if my father could come.' Mayor Cianci said 'Sure.' "

"He had a big house with a big pool. Amy Carter was there. (The daughter of the U.S. president at the time of Cornel's story.) Amy Carter asked me if I wanted to go swimming. I said, 'Sure, but I'll have to ask my father first.' I went to ask my father if could go swimming with Amy Carter but my father was busy talking with the Mayor Cianci, so, I had to wait because I didn't want to interrupt my father. While I was waiting for him, I heard Amy screaming. I turned and saw her drowning in the middle of the pool.

"I shouted to my father, 'Dad, Amy Carter's drowning. I gotta go save her."Okay,' my father said, 'but be careful.'

"Later, after I saved her, when she was feeling better, she thanked me. Then, she asked me if I would like to marry her when I grew up. I said I didn't know about that. I'd have to ask my father first."

Every time I see that picture of Cornel in his uniform and hat and no glasses — the picture that's in the newspaper and on the TV — the same thought takes over my mind I'm so sorry for what happened to you, pal. So sorry. You were a hero 20 years ago; you're a hero now.

George Quinn lives in North Providence.