Hours before he was stomped to death, Bobby Tillman attended a play at a church. Its theme? Teen-age bullying.

The 18-year-old seemed to enjoy last weekend’s production, his mother recalled. But he didn’t say much.

“Bobby had never been bullied before,” said Monique Rivarde. “He always got along with everyone.”

When she moved her family from Los Angeles to the more laid-back Douglas County two years ago, Rivarde had no reason to believe that would change.

Despite Rivarde’s best intentions and guidance, her son was killed in a random, brutal and senseless act. The Nov. 6 killing, which has drawn nationwide attention because of its vicious and arbitrary nature, happened in the county she saw as almost bucolic, with fields, spacious subdivisions and a scenic river just up the road.

In dozens of interviews with witnesses, law enforcement authorities and family members, a fuller picture has emerged of the circumstances surrounding Tillman’s death. Yet a central question remains: How did a small, chaperoned party to celebrate good grades devolve into an unprovoked killing in the street?

It’s a death that continues to reverberate among youths and parents, who have come to see Tillman as a helpless Everyman, a symbol of society’s growing callousness.

“I said (Douglas County) was a good place to raise my children,” said Rivarde, who also has a teenage daughter. L.A.’s fast-paced culture carried negative influences and even a threat of indiscriminate tragedy. TV news was filled with such sad tales, she said. “That was always the story in Los Angeles — the kid was in the wrong place, wrong time.”

Tillman easily fit into his new life. A ready smile, an easy-going demeanor and a dose of West Coast style and panache brought him numerous friends at Chapel Hill High School, from which he graduated last May.

But it may have been his sense of standing out that caused a band of young men outside a house party to set upon him, pound him to the pavement and stomp on his chest with a ferocity that killed him.

The 5-foot-6, 125-pound youth did not know his attackers and was not one to pick a fight, his friends say — especially on a dark street surrounded by unfamiliar, and much larger, people.

Four teens were arrested and accused of felony murder: Quantez Devonta Mallory, 18, Horace Damon Coleman, 19, Emmanuel Benjamin Boykins, 18, and Tracen Lamar Franklin, 19, all of whom attended or had gone to the rival Douglas County High.

The crime has spurred candlelight vigils and thousands of comments on the Internet about teen violence.

Investigators are still sifting through the witness statements and evidence. The oft-repeated story is that one of the suspects was struck by a girl who was fighting another girl. The teen said he did not want to strike a girl, so he vowed he would drill the next guy he saw. Along came the diminutive Tillman, who became, as his mother always feared, the loser in a horrible lottery: “The kid in the wrong place, wrong time.”

Party ‘across the tracks’

The Saturday night party, which Tillman and his friends were invited to, was in honor of two Chapel Hill High girls who were celebrating good report cards.

He sported earrings in both ears and liked to coordinate his ensemble, even asking his mother’s fashion advice that night before heading out. He wore blue jeans, a blue shirt, a gray sweater and red sneakers. She told him to be careful.

The party took place “across the tracks,” as many Chapel Hill students call the north end of the county. The east-west railroad brought Douglasville to life more than a century ago and provides a local shorthand that many residents to the south use to mean an area a bit more iffy. The area was the historically black part of the city, although many African-American families have moved into the comfortable subdivisions south of the tracks and I-20.

“We don’t go across the tracks that much,” said E’manuelle Rawls, who was invited to the party. “We figured it would be a small get-together, just some people we knew.”

Tillman, Rawls and another friend started the night together, first visiting a buddy. They planned to go shopping the next day in the Little Five Points district in Atlanta. About 10 p.m., they headed to the party.

The gathering seemed OK, Rawls said, more guys than girls, but there was dancing and good tunes. But there were more people than he thought would be in the small home, and many of them he didn’t know. Police said they didn’t find alcohol at the party, but Rawls said he saw several people drinking and others smoking pot outside.

Fights broke out in crowd

Jourdan Ferguson, a 2010 Douglas High grad, said there were several cliques of people but no hassles. She said she knew the four suspects and hugged Franklin, a former Douglas High football standout who now was away at Alabama State University in Montgomery.

“Tracen (Franklin) was academically strong, a good guy,” she said of the youth who is now one of the four suspects. Another friend said he was a youth minister at their church.

Quantez Mallory was known to get in trouble — “nothing bad,” she added — so Ferguson approached and told him, “You better be doing good in school.”

He was a good football player, she said, and had a shot at college.

Coleman was still on probation for a marijuana arrest, his mother said, and had moved to Forest Park, where he attended an alternative school nearby.

Coleman and Mallory also had recently attended a court-ordered “youths against violence” class, but never completed the eight-week program, said Douglasville police deputy chief Gary Sparks.

About 11:30 p.m., the mother of the girls having the party, Tracy Sanders, became irate with the crush of people overflowing into the yard, and the dead-end street getting packed with parked cars. She flashed the lights and ordered people out.

At least a couple of fights started in the hurried exit, one between girls arguing over Coleman, witnesses said.

Coleman’s mother, Reanna, later explained that girls fighting over her son is not unheard of. “All of my boys are gorgeous, and women do fight over them. If he’s got girls saying, ‘That’s my man,’ he’s just going to watch and not get involved.”

The fights between the girls fed the chaos outside, and neighbors started dialing 911.

Suspect Boykins told Channel 2 Action News in a jailhouse interview that a glance from Tillman sparked a brawl. Boykins said he asked Tillman, “What are you looking at?” and Tillman shot back, “What are you looking at?”

Boykins acknowledged being part of a group that jumped Tillman but denied responsibility for his death.

Rawls, Tillman’s friend, was headed to the car and got separated from his friend in the confusion. He said he saw a crowd of about 20 people milling around. In the middle, there appeared to be a struggle.

“People say it was four guys” beating one person, he said, not knowing then it was his friend. “What I saw was more than four guys. There was probably more like eight. Those guys are still out there.”

“People didn’t do anything,” Rawls added. “People point the finger at me and say why didn’t we do anything? I say, why didn’t you do anything?”

Lt. Bruce Ferguson, the lead investigator in the case, said authorities are still getting witness statements. He said he is confident the four suspects are the main attackers.

‘I saw a lack of empathy’

The noise outside woke up Eddie and Barbara Stephens, 16-year residents of Independence Drive who live across the street.

Barbara Stephens saw a teen lying on the street and another wind up and deliver a ferocious kick. It was under the street light, so she said she is sure of what she saw. She said the attacker had braids. Coleman has braids.

Eddie Stephens figured police were on the scene because they saw a beam of white light shine on the party house.

“They all scattered,” he said. “Everybody ran to their cars.”

Stephens said he saw a lone figure under the street light.

“I saw this kid more or less staggering in the yard,” he said. “I thought he was drunk. I still didn’t realize that young man was slowly losing his life.”

“It’s played over and over in my mind,” said Barbara Stephens, who choked up thinking about what she saw out her window. “I wondered, ‘Did I see that?’ ”

As she spoke, Mike Dennis, a retired middle school teacher, drove up to say hello. Dennis said he taught three of the suspects. “I’ve seen this coming the last 10 years,” he said. “I saw a lack of empathy” among students, “the lack of an ability of putting yourself in another’s shoes. I just saw a change in compassion.”

Everybody comments

The killing touched off a storm of conversation via social media on the Internet as Facebook pages dedicated to remembering Tillman competed with calls to free the suspects. The platform gave Douglas County youths, and people across the county, a chance to vent or give their remembrances, often in contentious language.

“We’re each on Facebook bashing each other over this,” said Brandi Maddox, a Lithia Springs High School student who knew Tillman and several of the suspects.

Hundreds of teens turned out Thursday night for an “end the violence” meeting with church leaders, parents, school and law enforcement officials.

“Nobody won in this situation,” Traci Burton, 16, of Dallas, told the packed house at Marvelous Light Christian Ministries. “Bobby’s mom has to bury him. Even those four boys, now they’re going to be in jail for the rest of their lives.”

It’s unbelievable that no one came to Tillman’s aid, some said.

“Somebody could’ve stepped in and taken a blow. It might have saved Bobby’s life,” said Mark Palmer, 17, of Carver High School.

“Years ago, this type of incident could have happened, let alone without any assistance from anybody,” said Craig Faison, another teenager from Douglasville. “Yeah, the cops are there for a reason. But if they can’t get there until after the boy’s dead, what are you going to do?”

Asked how adults could help end teen violence, Lola Bolaji, 20, a Spelman College student who grew up in Douglas County, said young adults must become role models and help their younger peers focus on positive outlets. “But,” she added, “at some point you have to ask yourself, ‘What am I going to do to make myself better?’ At some point, it’s going to be your choice.”

Tillman’s mom said her son wanted to be a good person. She relayed his words at the gathering, as she encouraged the crowd to follow his lead.

“Bobby told me, ‘Mom, it’s OK to live right,’ ” she said.

“You have the promise of a good life,” she told the audience. “All you have to do is live right.”

She said young people must learn from what happened and stop the bullying.

“You deserve a good life,” she said. “My son deserved a good life.”

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(Photo Illustration: Philip Robibero / AJC | Source: File, Pexels)

Credit: Philip Robibero / AJC