Forrest had a zest for living

While his family still makes arrangements to memorialize Vernon Forrest, those closest to the former world champion boxer have no trouble remembering the man they lost.

"The more I think about the memories and the things that he did ..." publicist Kelly Swanson said before emotions cut off her sentence.

"Vernon loved life," she continued. "If I called him he was on his way to a concert or on his way to pick up his nephew and take him to a ballgame or going to see his son. He was always going to big events."

One of those big events that stood out was the inauguration of President Obama in January.

"There was no way he was going to miss Obama's inauguration and he got himself up to the mall and was with the people and said it was one of the best days of his life," Swanson said. "That's just the passion with which he lived."

A huge part of that passion for living was giving back to those less fortunate. In a sport known for its taking, Forrest was an exception.

Before he'd ever won a title or fought his way into position to earn seven-figure payouts, he was quick to spend what he had on others, whether it was the Police Athletic League, the Special Olympics or just $5,000 to a boxing club in Washington, D.C., for underprivileged kids.

"You know how some people are told it would be a really good idea if you did this?" Swanson said. "With Vernon you didn't have to tell him. He really wanted to. It was part of his makeup to just be there and give back. It was just natural."

That was never more evident than early in his pro career when he was visiting a friend who helped mentally challenged kids. Forrest watched in frustration as a young autistic child spent an hour trying to tie his shoelaces. Eventually, the boxer couldn't take it anymore and helped.

"If you sit there and watch a person take about an hour to tie his shoestrings, then you realize that whatever problems you got ain't that significant," Forrest told The New York Times in 2006. "A light just turned on in my head."

That light led Forrest, with the help of qualified friends, to establish a program to house and provide services for the mentally challenged that became known as Destiny's Child Inc. He started it by inviting several kids into his own home before investing in and equipping houses in the Atlanta area.

"Vernon loved all mankind and especially kids," his brother, Alphonso, said. "Vernon would do anything for kids."

Destiny's Child was formed in 1996, long before Forrest had struck it rich in boxing with his WBC welterweight championship win over Shane Mosley in 2002. Yet he managed to scrape together $80,000 to get the operation started.

But the investment only got larger. There were insurance premiums to pay, staff to put on payroll and clothes to buy patients. In 2000, when Atlanta had 17 new patients who were stranded when a similar program folded, Destiny's Child took them in.

"We almost went under because we didn't have any funding for them," Forrest told Black Enterprise magazine in 2003.

Forrest funded the $100,000 "rescue operation" out of his own pocket during the six months before Medicaid payments finally came in.

"One of the things that I always wanted to do is help people out," Forrest told Black Enterprise . "But I didn't want to do something cosmetic. I want to know what I do is going to make a difference in somebody's life."

Forrest's interests didn't stop at charity and boxing. He landed a small role in a movie called Tournament of Dreams about an inner-city girls basketball team. He started up a limousine service in Atlanta. He dabbled in his own boxing promotions. He enjoyed debating with friends about current events.

He operated on an internal creed of fair play. Former world heavyweight champion Evander Holyfield, who often trained with Forrest in Atlanta, tells a story about how Forrest ran a half-mile through the streets of Barcelona to catch a thief who had stolen his hat.

"Got his hat back," Holyfield told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution . "And got in a few punches, too."

That same stubborn refusal to yield cost Forrest his life. When his possessions where taken at gunpoint at an Atlanta gas station Saturday night, rather than turn the other cheek the fighter in Forrest prompted him to get his own gun and chase after the thieves. After he'd given up the chase and was walking back to his car, Forrest was gunned down in the street.

"He really was a believer in fairness," Swanson said. "Knowing his character and resolve, he probably just didn't want them to get away with it. I felt bad that he had his gun with him because the perception could be that he was this gun-toting, monster bad guy in Atlanta. But it's so far from the truth."

"I never thought Vernon would die like that," Buddy McGirt, the trainer for Forrest's last four bouts, told The Ring Blog . "He wasn't a street-type of guy. That's what hurts so much. He was not one to be out in the streets. He lives out of town, out in the woods. ... It's heartbreaking. No one expected him to die early. No one expected him to die like this."

McGirt said that Forrest wanted to have two more fights, including one more big title shot before retiring from the ring on top.

"He wanted to make them count," McGirt said.

Forrest had been stripped of his WBC light middleweight title in the spring because a rib injury prevented him from defending it against mandatory challenger Sergio Martinez. It was rumored that when Forrest returned to the ring healthy in the fall, he would eventually get a shot at Martinez to reclaim his title.

Despite the prolonged bickering between the two camps, Martinez was hit hard by the news of Forrest's death to the degree that he is moved to pay tribute to his unrequited rival by wearing the word "Viper" on his trunks in his next fight. Wearing his nickname into the ring speaks to the esteem Forrest was held by his peers.

But it's not Forrest's death that his friends will remember. It was his life.

"I'm just happy he lived like that because it's nice to know that no time was wasted," Swanson said. "I think he lived a very full life and that life was full because of how much he did give back."

Reach Scott Michaux at (706) 823-3219 or scott.michaux@augustachronicle.com.