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

'He wanted to help change the community'

Friends and relatives remember Cornel "Jai" Young Jr. as a skinny boy with glasses who blossomed into a bright, respectful man who loved children.

PROVIDENCE — The officer remembers clip-clopping through the city's Washington Park neighborhood on his police horse and spotting the skinny boy with glasses.

The boy, Cornel "Jai" Young Jr., was always smiling and armed with a bag of carrots for the horse. The officer would hoist the boy on to the back of his saddle and give him rides down the street.

The routine was a special one for the boy as well as the officer, Inspector Luis E. Del Rio Jr., who never had any children of his own and became Jai's "uncle."

Del Rio went through the police academy with the boy's father, Maj. Cornel Young Sr. They became best friends and, as rookie police officers, they worked as partners in the city's south end.

Today, Del Rio will march alongside Young in the funeral procession for Sgt. Cornel "Jai" Young Jr. who was accidently shot to death by two fellow officers outside a diner in Olneyville last Friday.

Young, 29, had been a police officer less than three years.

"He was just putting one foot ahead of the other," said Del Rio, now director of the Police Department's Mounted Patrol. "He was making headway. He was going to do well in this job."

The skinny boy with glasses had blossomed into a bright, respectful young man who was always smiling and loved children, according to the fallen officer's colleagues, childhood friends and high school classmates.

In 1972, Jai's mother, Leisa Young, divorced Cornel Young Sr. after two years of marriage. She was a 19-year-old high school dropout with a 2-year-old son.

They lived on Dartmouth Avenue and later Saratoga Street, on the city's south side.

A mother on welfare, Leisa Young began taking courses at the College of Continuing Education at the University of Rhode Island and eventually earned a master's degree in counseling at Rhode Island College.

On weekends, Jai spent time with his father in Washington Park.

Thomas "Tony" Horton, a childhood friend, remembered living next door to Young on Dartmouth Avenue. He said Jai wore glasses and looked "like a little professor." They often spent the night at each other's homes. Horton recalls playing cops and robbers. Jai was always the cop.

In the mid-1980s, Young was accepted at Classical High School, the city's highly competitive college-preparatory secondary school where many of the city's brightest and most gifted teenagers go.

Classmate Ramon E. Peralta Jr., president of Peralta Illustration & Design in Bridgeport, Conn., said Young got along well with everyone but didn't hang out with any particular crowd.

Peralta said that he and Jai were among the few minorities in their class. Outside of school, he said, many of their peers viewed them as "sell-outs" for going to the elite high school.

Unlike many teenagers in their neighborhood, Peralta said that Jai never swore, never used street language and never experimented with alcohol or drugs.

Upon graduating from Classical in 1988, Young spent several years trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He attended an aeronautical-maintenance school in Massachusetts, went to an automotive repair school in East Providence and worked for two local car dealerships.

In 1993, he moved to Lexington, Ky., where he had relatives, and worked for Budget Car & Truck Rental. A family friend, Irene M. Mendes, whom Young called "Auntie I," said he loved the view of the Cumberland Mountains.

He returned to Providence after a year and did volunteer work for the Rhode Island Children's Crusade for Higher Education, in Providence.

In 1997, he was accepted into the Providence Police Academy.

Inspector Del Rio said he was surprised when he learned that Jai wanted to become a police officer. He always felt that Young would end up working with children.

"Maybe, I had some feelings of overprotectiveness," said Del Rio.

Young survived the grueling four months of training at the academy. He made it through the extensive physical grind that includes boxing, running and marksmanship.

It also involves weeks of classes on criminal law.

Del Rio said that Young worked extra hard. He didn't want his classmates thinking he was getting an easy ride because he was the son of a police major.

After graduation, Young, like all rookie officers, worked the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift. After a year, he moved to 7 p.m. to 3 a.m. His fellow officers say he never complained about the late nights, when a young patrolman sees the darker side of life. Shifts are spent breaking up domestic disputes and barroom brawls. Shootings and stabbings are commonplace.

Del Rio said that Jai would drop by and they would talk about police work. He remembers one day when Young faced a dilemma: he was ticketing illegally parked cars and one of the cars belonged to a veteran police officer.

"What should I do?" Young said.

He was afraid that if he gave him a ticket he would alienate his fellow officers. But, if he ignored the car, it would be a double-standard and unfair to the other residents who got tagged.

Young decided to speak to the officer. He moved the car.

Young didn't fraternize with his fellow officers after work. He didn't drink, so he didn't go to local bars or frequent the Fraternal Order of Police Lodge.

On a Saturday night, it wasn't unusual for Jai to take his 10-year-old sister, Jessica, out for dinner.

In December 1998, Young attended his 10-year high school reunion at the Trinity Brewhouse, across the street from Providence Police Headquarters.

Brittan K. Bates, a classmate who helped organize the event, said she remembered chatting with Jai. As always, he was well-dressed and smiling. He was excited about his life as a police officer.

"He got into it to have an effect on children's lives," said Bates. "He wanted to help change the community."

Peralta, the classmate now living in Connecticut, said he was pleased to see that Jai, a bright black man decided to be a police officer in their hometown. Peralta, who is Dominican, said he had bad memories of his dealings with the police in Providence.

"I thought there weren't enough black officers," he said. "It was a noble effort on his part to become an officer. He became an officer for the right reasons: to help people."

Last Thursday night was like many other nights at the Del Rios' house. Cornel Young Sr. stopped by for a night of "casino," a card game. After midnight, Young was watching television and fell asleep on the couch.

About 2 a.m. the telephone rang. It was police Maj. Richard T. Sullivan. The news wasn't good.

"There's been an accident . . ." said Sullivan.