Staff Photo by Dan Henry / The Chattanooga Times Free Press- 5/12/16. Leo Hardaway speaks to volunteer Lisa Ibay while spending time at The Salvation Army on Thursday, May 12, 2016. Hardaway is a 44-year-old man who is confined to a wheelchair after an automobile accident left him paralyzed over a decade ago. Most mornings in room 609 of Patten Towers, he wakes up wet.
It's been 10 years since the accident - when his 1964 Monte Carlo rolled three times across the street and smashed into a pole. Since then, he hasn't been able to fully control his bladder or move his legs. And even if he was mobile, Leo Christopher Hardaway isn't sure he could break the cycle of anger that has dominated his life.
Today, though, he wants to try.
"I'm trying to fill my days with more positive things to do," Hardaway says, "because the drug thing I got taken care of, if I can stay focused."
On a recent afternoon, Hardaway steers his six-wheel electric wheelchair through downtown Chattanooga, unsure if strangers understand his past.
He scoots along MLK Boulevard, looking for clothes. Then he zooms to the Community Kitchen for medication to curb the voices. For 16 days Hardaway has steered clear of crack, a landmark accomplishment for a man who never made it more than a week.
Every chance he gets, Hardaway heads to Hamilton County Criminal Court to check on Julian Pasley, his 20-year-old nephew who faces second-degree murder charges in the 2015 death of Malik Blackstock. Hardaway was there last Friday, to provide the example he never had. And he will be there for Pasley's June 2 settlement hearing.
The court records here portray Hardaway's cautionary tale: At least 12 felonies, a 16.5-year prison sentence, 36 years of juvenile penitentiaries, group homes and criminal proceedings.
Today, though, Hardaway thinks about Clark Street, where his grandmother raised him. And the time he fell off the porch and never cried. His grandmother knew then: This 3-year-old would be trouble.
He thinks about an uncle who recruited 8-year-old Hardaway for his first armed burglary. And a friend from prison, now dead, who supplied Hardaway with drugs during his recovery from the crash.
He thinks about his father, an honorable Vietnam veteran who sat in federal prison throughout his childhood.
He thinks about his mother - he tries to, anyway. He knows she was addicted to drugs. He knows she's dead now.
He thinks about May 20, 2004, when he pulled up to a stop sign after visiting an adult services center on Holtzclaw Avenue. He sat there while an 18-wheeler waved three times for him to pull out.
The night before he had been partying, making money. So maybe he never noticed the second car coming. When paramedics found him on the other side of the street, he could tell them his age, where he was, what happened.
But he couldn't move his back.
Now, Hardaway unrolls his sleeve: a river of scars flows up and down his arm - scars that he put there himself.
The first time was Somerville, Tenn., in a juvenile penitentiary. Someone swiped his outfit. One of his friends said: "If you don't do something, nobody from Chattanooga will have acclaim."
"So what I ended up doing was cutting myself to get the courage to fight this dude."
He was 11 years old.
Now he's 44.
And the sun is out, the wind is warm. He's hanging near the Community Kitchen and things are looking up now that he's enrolled in Jobs For Life, a Hope for the Inner City program that strives to provide those with criminal histories and substance abuse problems the skills to excel at a career.
Today, he plans to attend Bible study at First Presbyterian Church at 5 p.m., and maybe stop by home.
"Only God knows the true form of power that can change you," he says. "Once the devil tempts your soul and you go in, he masters your soul from then on."
But first, he needs to find some cigarettes.
Contact staff writer Zack Peterson at zpeterson@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6347 with story ideas or tips. Follow @zackpeterson918.