Raygene Jackson | Facebook
By TYLER HOLMES
Homicide Watch Chicago
Raygene Jackson was a repentant man with a troubled past and a promising future. After being paroled from prison last year for a crime he committed when he was 17, Jackson was determined to improve life for himself and everyone around him.
“He made mistakes and he did the time for his mistakes. But he was sorry,” said Pamela Roberts, Jackson’s godmother. “He was a compassionate person. He was a lovely, caring person.”
Jackson had been with his fiancée, Faydra Rhinehart, since they were teenagers and she always remained by his side. The two were working on purchasing a house and getting married, hoping to start a life that had been put on hold for 20 years.
“When he was with me, he was the young sweet boy his mother raised,” Rhinehart remembered. “I’ve known him since I was a kid. I’ve loved him my whole life.”
Together, they had a daughter in 1994, before she was tragically shot at age three in 1997. Rhinehart later had another daughter whom Jackson happily embraced as his own.
“He never got the chance to raise any of his kids,” Rhinehart said. “He got locked up as a boy and came out a man. His life was changed. He said, ‘It took me a long time to do it, but I accepted God and I did change'.”
Raygene Jackson with his sister Onnie Jackson at Christmas. | Facebook
Jackson was a man dedicated to family. He would often save money to fly to California to visit his mother, or pay for her to visit Chicago. He also assisted his brother financially so he would be able to “start fresh,” according to Dushaun Hobson, Jackson’s childhood friend.
“He wanted something better for himself, for his daughter and for me,” Rhinehart said. “He was working hard. He brought a lot of enlightenment to my life in the past year and a half.”
In 1995, Jackson was convicted, along with two other young men, of the murder of 14-year-old Isaac Jackson (no relation) after confusing him for a rival gang member. Jackson was originally sentenced to 46 years, but was paroled after serving 20.
During a press conference at police headquarters on July 18, First Deputy Superintendent John Escalante referenced Jackson’s death.
"I don't mean to victimize this victim any further, this man lost his life," Escalante said. "But our frustration is, in 1995 he was sentenced to 46 years in the Illinois Department of Corrections for a murder. In 1995. He was paroled last year. How and why he's on the street, I don't know. But if he was still serving his sentence, he wouldn't be a murder victim right now."
Jackson’s family and friends were outraged by the statements. Roberts felt they were bashing him by saying he should have stayed in jail.
“We don’t know what happened. However, what the police chief said was wrong,” Roberts said. “For the police superintendent to say that, that’s messed up. That bothered me.”
Raygene Jackson with family | Facebook
Following his release, Jackson wasted no time trying to get his life together. Within a week, he walked to the Secretary of State's office to get a government ID and Social Security card, according to Roberts.
“He got a job through a temp agency within a week, where he was working 10 to 12 hours six to seven days a week,” Roberts said. “He was on the right track.”
Jackson was shot around 4:45 a.m. on Sunday, July 17, in West Garfield Park, about a mile north of his home. He was taken to Stroger Hospital, where he died eight hours later. The case remains under investigation but there are no leads as to the identity of the shooter, according to police.
Rhinehart claims that his death was the result of being an innocent bystander “at the wrong place at the wrong time.” He had spoken to Jackson on the phone about where he was less than an hour before he was murdered.
“No matter what his past was, he deserves justice and they’re not going to look for his murderer because of how they portrayed him,” Rhinehart said. “The things he did as a teenager are not why he got killed. I don’t appreciate it at all. It’s making me so angry.”
Jackson spent a lot of time focusing on the future and what he wanted when he was younger, Hobson said. The two grew up together from a young age, always saying they were “like brothers.”
“Everything he got he worked for from scratch,” Hobson said. “He got his own job. He had his own goals he wanted to accomplish when he got home, and he did it.”
When Hobson and Jackson would run into people selling drugs on the corner who they knew from their past, the two would talk to them about turning their lives around – starting small by getting a job to make money. According to Hobson, Jackson always said, “All you can do is rise.”
"Most of the time we were both working long days so we didn't get to hang out much," Hobson said. "We'd throw meat on the grill, drink a beer, and play some cards. He's always been there for me."
Hobson mentioned the time he was helping Jackson repair his van and they found a young woman's ID on the sidewalk. Instead of dropping it into a nearby mailbox, Jackson decided to return it directly to the address listed, "just in case she might need it soon."
The young woman was not home, but her grandfather was on the front porch and they talked for a while. "He didn't want fraud, or anything else he could've done," Hobson said. "He wanted to give it back.
"He'll be remembered for his heart. He would never let anything bad happen to anybody," Hobson said. According to his family, Jackson would talk to anyone if they were in a similar situation he used to be in, because he never wanted anyone else to experience what he had endured.
"There was always a better way than choosing to go down the wrong path," Hobson said.
Jackson’s family is not unfamiliar with gun violence. It is a prominent issue in their neighborhood and it is the reason Jackson lost his first daughter 19 years ago, according to Rhinehart.
“When my lease is up, I’m getting out of Chicago,” Rhinehart said. “It’s sad. This city is in ruins. I don’t see gun violence ending anytime soon – the police are focusing on the wrong problems.”
Rhinehart is thankful she was at least able to spend the past year and a half with Jackson after not being able to see the man she loved for so long.
According to Hobson, there is a lack of leadership. With Chicago Public Schools closing so many classrooms and access to extracurricular activitives, more kids and teenagers "need somewhere to go with something to do."
"I want to put my family on lockdown even though I know I can't," Hobson said. "This generation from age 20 to 35 has lost its way. Back when we were growing up, we used to fight, but we'd use our hands. We'd talk it out – nobody knows how to talk anymore."
Rhinehart elaborated on how local communities need to "learn to speak up and take responsibility for their actions." She claimed that the violence has remained the same and only grown more severe since 1997.
"When will it end? I go to get gas and hear nothing but gunshots," Rhinehart said. "My daughter was shot in the head through our gate so I understand a parent's loss. I just hope I never have to deal with it again. Our daughter's boyfriend was shot on the same day as him [Jackson]."
After coming home following his release, Rhinehart said Jackson took up photography to fully capture and remember every moment after missing so many. Unfortunately, he did not get to indulge in his newfound hobby often due to working so many hours to support his family.
"I want people to say sorry for what they said about who he was 20 years ago because he had changed," Hobson said. "They should have done their research. I want them to admit they didn't take the time to understand who this man was and assassinated his character like that.
"Tell the story right or don't tell it at all. That hurt us hard," Hobson said.
Jackson's family collectively agreed that he will be missed most for his loyalty, sense of style, uplifting disposition and pure heart.
“I’ll always remember that smile on his face and his compassion for his family and his friends,” Roberts said. “It wasn’t nothin’ but love. We’ll always remember him as a good guy.”