Tyreek Hill’s Georgia hometown grapples with hope, doubt about the Chiefs receiver

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Sports

May 10, 2019 - 4:13 PM

Kansas City Chiefs wide receiver Tyreek Hill (10) is congratulated by running back Damien Williams, left, after Hill ran in a touchdown in the first quarter against the Indianapolis Colts in an AFC Divisional game on Jan. 12, at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City, Mo. The Chiefs advanced, 31-13. John Sleezer/Kansas City Star/TNS

PEARSON, Ga. — From the north and south on Highway 441 and via the west and east on Highway 82, this rural Georgia village is framed by signs paying homage to its most prominent native son:

CITY OF PEARSON … HOME OF TYREEK HILL … #10 NFL KANSAS CITY CHIEFS.

The wide receiver grew up here, about 220 miles southeast of Atlanta, 3.4 square miles where 37.5 percent of approximately 2,000 residents live below the poverty line. Born 25 years ago to teen parents, Hill might easily have become what he referred to in an interview with The Star last year as “another lost piece.”

But Hill was lifted by grandparents he speaks of with reverence and nurtured in a church on the edge of town — the same church he returned to with an apology to its congregants after a 2014 incident in which he pleaded guilty of domestic abuse.

“He came back before the church and just said he was sorry,” said Jerry Braswell Jr., the pastor of Pine Chapel Missionary Baptist Church. “He just felt like he let a lot of folks down.”

That’s no doubt part of what has made this time so distressing and puzzling for people in a community where Hill has stirred imaginations and symbolized hope, and where he was bestowed the “key to the city” just a few weeks ago.

In Pearson, you won’t see any obvious hints of the recent trouble swirling around Hill that threatens his NFL career. If you come seeking to understand more about his background and who he is, and how people here are processing all that is unfolding this spring, though, you’ll see something more.

Recent events have rendered Hill’s name a hot button even in his hometown, where some who know him well didn’t respond to messages and others declined comment, citing the combustible nature of the situation. Numerous efforts to speak with his grandparents were unsuccessful.

Inside the P&W Family Restaurant on the day of its grand opening, a poster featuring Hill dominates one window. A girl wears a shirt promoting Hill’s charitable foundation; another young woman is clad in one touting his celebrity basketball game.

But when a waitress is asked after a meal about what Hill means to Pearson, she promptly walks away to speak with another woman who evidently is in charge … and is visibly upset that a reporter is asking such questions.

She yells across the room that they don’t know Hill, and adds that she knows nothing about Hill’s foundation. No one returns to the table afterward.

It’s one moment, one anecdote. But it’s telling about an apprehension of being misconstrued or misrepresented, or saying something that might be recorded and then regretted.

“I think people are really frightened of reporters and frightened of things like that,” said Braswell, who noted Hill was a regular part of his flock from age 8 to 18. “Even me, I had to pray about this situation myself before I called you back.”

 

THE RESTRAINT in Pearson obscures a truth: After Hill’s three exhilarating years on the field and apparent redemptive arc off the field since pleading guilty to abuse of then-pregnant girlfriend (and current fiancee) Crystal Espinal in 2014, his story has become a contentious and confounding affair.

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