Nichols' old friends sad and mystified

"He's a whole different person, you know, " said Charles Franklin Jr., a childhood friend. "He's not the same person we all grew up with.

"He was energetic, charismatic, well-polished, disciplined and educated, " said Franklin. "He was a high achiever."

In northwest Fort Lauderdale, Fla., in a small barbershop, Nichols' brother, Mark, was clearly agitated as he trimmed a customer's hair. Occasionally, he would take a sip from a Heineken bottle concealed in a brown paper bag.

"Yes. I'm angry at him, " said Nichols, a short, stocky man. He's killed three people, and maybe four.

"He's basically dead already."

To those who know Brian Nichols, 33, the allegations against him don't make any sense. Not in that neighborhood in northeast Baltimore, or that barbershop in Fort Lauderdale, or on the campus of Kutztown University in Pennsylvania, where Nichols once played football.

Franklin and Nichols have been friends since they were 5 years old. Both attended Cardinal Gibbons High School in Baltimore, and they developed a passion for karate.

The two buddies flipped through martial arts magazines and briefly hoped to train to become Ninjas.

Because of Nichols' muscular frame and height, school bullies stayed away from him.

Girls, however did not.

Nichols was popular, said Franklin, and throughout high school, he sharpened his karate skills.

He fought competitors with black belts and attended tournaments regularly. One time, his kick and chops were so swift and forceful that a challenger vomited, remembered Franklin.

But Nichols was funny, eloquent and poised.

"When he dealt with seniors or adults he had great manners, " said Franklin, co-pastor of Ray of Hope Baptist Church in Baltimore.

Neighbors along Windemere Avenue expected great things from Nichols when he went to Kutztown University to play football.

Seventeen years later, old teammates still remember his talent. But he had a mean streak, too, they recalled.

Once, outside a pizza parlor, Nichols and another man began arguing, remembered Mark Steinmeyer, a former teammate who is now assistant football coach at Kutztown.

Then, Steinmeyer recalled, Nichols floored the man with a martial-arts-type kick.

"He kicked the guy in the head, some type of a spinning-around kick. The guy was out cold, and [Nichols] walked away, " said Steinmeyer, who recalls thinking, "I am glad he was my friend."

Another teammate, Nick Pergine didn't think much of that incident. "We figured he was a young guy with a lot of strength and talent. He didn't know how to channel it."

When he was a freshman at Kutztown, Nichols met Stephanie L. Jay, another student. They began dating.

Jay, born and raised in Allentown, Pa., brought Nichols to her home a few times. He made quite an impression on her parents, recalled Jay's brother, Scott, who lives in Suwanee.

By the early 1990s, Jay was pregnant with Nichols' baby. When she gave birth, Nichols was already out of her life, her family said Saturday.

"He was young —- real young, " Scott Jay said Saturday. "He was a kid himself at the time."

Nichols hasn't had any contact for years with his daughter, who is now 13, or Stephanie, who is now 36, Scott Jay said.

Five years ago, the girl's mother sued Nichols in Clayton County, saying he was about $13,000 in arrears on his child support payments. But authorities could not locate Nichols, and the case was dismissed in 2002.

"She got through it, " Scott Jay said. "My sister raised her without him. That's commendable. That child is doing real good right now. She's an A student."

Snapshots from Nichols' life portray a man who had been in trouble long before he was charged last summer with the especially violent rape of his ex-girlfriend.

While at Kutztown, Nichols was arrested by campus police in 1990 and charged with harassment and disorderly conduct. He pleaded guilty and paid fines.

At Newberry College in South Carolina, he was kicked off the football team for stealing from a dormitory room.

And from 1996 to 1999, records show, he was on probation for a felony drug case in Cobb County.

Nichols' brother, Mark, said the family had stood behind him through his troubles.

Their mother, Claritha, who is in Tanzania, spent $20,000 on Brian Nichols' defense for his rape trial in Atlanta.

Asked whether he and his brother were close, Mark Nichols said. "There are only two of us. That's all."

Nichols wouldn't say more about his brother after his request for $500 for a more in-depth interview was rebuffed, because such a payment would violate journalistic standards. The money would have been used to help his brother, Mark Nichols said.

Back in Baltimore, Franklin said "it just didn't fit."

"What could have driven him to this?" he asked. "Something in his life changed drastically, and we don't know what it is.

"What point is the breaking point for anyone? We don't know that."

—- Email Charles Yoo at cyoo@ajc.com and Kevin Duffy at kduffy@ajc.com.

CHARLES YOO in Baltimore; and KEVIN DUFFY in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.