'He was my whole world'

Doni Smith sets down her weight and turns down the pulsating music, realizing the time to talk had arrived — to tell the story of the person she loved most, and the grief she has yet to truly process.

It’s January, and Doni is putting in work inside the home-made gymnasium that she’s spent blood, sweat and tears in for years alongside her partner, Jaylon Ferguson.

But he’s not there. His name and iconography drape the walls of the right corner of the complex, with his name and Louisiana Tech jersey number and colors hovering over rows of squat racks, bench press stations, free weights, and everything else one would need to train at the highest level.

As she sits down to talk, Jaylon’s face appears, displayed proudly on a gold-plated necklace strung across her neck.

All it takes is one mention of his name and Doni’s memories, and tears, well to the surface.

“I’m going through it day by day, hour by hour,” Doni said, beginning to wipe away tears from her eyes. “Once people start asking me about him, I get … I think when I get through a conversation about him without crying, I’ll start to be OK. That was my entire world. And I really haven’t spoken on his death publicly. I’ve just kind of done my own grieving.”

By this point, it’s been seven months since Ferguson passed away on June 21, 2022, in Baltimore at the age of 26, leaving Doni and their three children — Jyce, Jrea, and Demi, all under the age of 7 — without what she calls “the giver and lover” of the family.

Months removed, the night she heard the news is still fresh in her mind.

She and Jaylon talked for a while that evening as Doni was bathing the kids and putting them to bed, staying in her godmother's house as the family looked to recover from a house fire earlier in the year.

As the two finished their talk, Jaylon’s phone was about to die. Something in Doni made her a say a quick prayer.

“God, I just hope Jaylon’s OK.”

The two had never been apart this long — 11 days — as he was still in Baltimore for OTAs.

“I woke up out of my sleep, it was about maybe 11 (p.m.) and the first thing I thought was, ‘Oh crap, I wonder if Jaylon’s been calling me?’ But I had no messages from him, but I had a message from the guy whose house he was at.”

Another close connection to Jaylon in Baltimore texted Doni: “Call me. It’s important.”

Doni called back.

“When I woke up, my daughter woke up, my middle child woke up and she just started crying, just crying nonstop. And I put her back to sleep and I called, and she said, ‘He collapsed.’ And I’m like, ‘did he hit his head or something? What happened? Did he take anything?’ And she’s like ‘I don’t know, he just collapsed.’ And I was like, ‘what do you mean? Is he OK?’ And she said, ‘You need to come back to Baltimore.’ And I just kept saying, ‘well what’s going on?’ and she’s like, ‘It’s Jaylon. I’m sorry Doni, he’s dead.’”

Still in shock, she brought in her godmother from the other room to tell her what she heard, trying not to wake up the kids. The two couldn’t believe the news.

After multiple attempts, she reached Jaylon’s mother, Jackie Ferguson, late in the evening as she woke up from her sleep.

“I didn’t know how to tell her, because at this point, I still haven’t dropped a tear, it’s just shock. How do you even process that? And so, I called her, and I told her, ‘I just got a call and they said Jaylon was dead’ and she said, ‘Doni, what do you mean?’ and I said, ‘Jackie, they told me he was dead.’

“That’s when I got emotional, I just gave the phone to my godmother and I was like, ‘please talk to her, I don’t know how to tell her.’ As a mother … I would never know how to take that call that someone said my child is dead,” she continued. “I don’t know how to look at my kids. They had just Facetimed their daddy that day.”

According to police reports, officers responded to a home in the northern district of Baltimore where Jaylon was found unresponsive and being treated by medics — later determined to have passed from an overdose, according to the medical examiner from the Maryland Department of Health.

Jaylon and Doni were two weeks from getting married.

They had a date planned when he was scheduled to return to Ruston the following afternoon.

But in the coming months, disbelief would turn into a reality.

“People tell me how strong I am, but I don’t think people understand that I’m the weakest I’ve ever been in my life,” Doni said. “And I feel like that’s OK. I lost a lot when I lost Jaylon. That was the love of my life. Still is. He was everything. He was my whole world. And then one day you just wake up and your whole life changed.

“I felt like for a long time talking about it doesn’t really help,” she continued. “Because I want him back. Selfishly, I just want him back. Like if he just walked up and said, ‘hey, it was all a joke,’ I wouldn’t even be mad. I’m serious. As the days go by and the months go by, it’s not a joke. He’s never coming back.”

That fact won’t change, but it can serve as a reminder to those who love him — a reminder to never let his legacy be forgotten.

Now, one year since his death, Smith, and the rest of Jaylon’s family, feel a calling to keep his spirit alive.

Through grief, laughter, and a shared remembrance of ‘J-Ferg,’ this is how those who loved Jaylon “Sack Daddy” Ferguson want him to be remembered.

Life full of smiles

Jackie Ferguson misses her son’s smile.

Amidst his decorated history on the field, Jaylon’s ability to light up a room with a smile stills sticks with Jackie.

Jaylon, known for his pranks and gags with teammates, family members, and even coaches, rarely was without his trademark grin, making conversation easy and stress-relieving.

It was his smile, his uncanny ability to disarm others with kindness, that stays with Jackie.

“Every day he smiled. Every day,” Jackie said. “He was always joking around, having fun. He always liked to have fun, tease people. He’d say, ‘Momma, everybody love J-Ferg.’” Jackie would always ask her son how he was doing, and what did he need to hear.

But the focus was always on others, trying to make their days better through a laugh or a genuine gesture.

Blake Baker saw it first-hand, even when he first met Jaylon as a redshirt freshman at Louisiana Tech.

While he came to Ruston after Jaylon’s recruitment, Baker stood side by side with the future Bulldog great for years, seeing up close the character and loving persona that seemed a stunning opposite from how he wrecked opponents in game action.

He could tell he was watching someone special.

Baker, Jaylon’s former defensive coordinator at Tech from 2015-18, perks up when Jaylon’s sense of humor is mentioned, still remembering fondly the subtle jabs the two would share.

After Jaylon’s first season at Tech, he bulked up from 220 pounds to 245, letting the expression “carrying his weight around” serve as his punchline.

“He’d call me little man all the time,” Baker said. “He was a jokester for sure.”

By his third year in the program, Jaylon began to break the shell more, still making connections with his down-to-earth demeanor.

But for as much fun as he had with teammates, Baker said Jaylon never became the rah-rah leader. He never had to.

“He did a lot of speaking in the way he played,” Baker said. “Played as hard as anyone I ever coached.”

Jaylon’s passion for others came about most clearly during the 2019 NFL Draft, a time when he would have been justified to solely think about his own future.

Safarrah Lawson, Jaylon’s former agent, worked the phones throughout the opening rounds to hear of any news.

But just as Jaylon’s life seemed to be moving on from Ruston, he stepped back into his community with a helping hand and a generous smile in the process.

On April 25, 2019, night one of the NFL Draft, Ruston was hit with an EF-3 tornado, touching the ground for only eight minutes but leaving miles of wreckage in its wake.

Jaylon jumped into action the next morning, working with community members to clear debris off roads and homes and cleaning up rubble left behind.

And there was no cell service for Lawson to reach Jaylon — to make sure his client was safe, but also to let him know where his future NFL home would be.

Ferguson, drafted in the third round with the 85th overall pick by the Baltimore Ravens, didn’t hear his name called on TV like the rest of his draft class.

“I couldn’t even reach him,” Lawson said. “I kept saying, ‘Where is Jaylon?’ Phone lines were down, and I couldn’t contact him. And he’s out there clearing roads and yards. He was that type of kid. It’s been a big loss that I’m still mourning. Had a lot of respect for the young man.”

As she reflects on her son’s life, Jackie is comforted hearing her son made others feel welcomed, like they were his best friend.

It matters to her that so many people still consider Jaylon one of the greatest people they’ve met — for the reminder it brings her that he did what their faith calls them to do: love other people, even total strangers.

“I want everybody to remember the person that he was,” Jackie said. “J-Ferg was kind and loving to everybody he met.”

Sack Daddy

Jaylon Ferguson still holds the NCAA career sack record at 45.

If the shoe fits.

During Jaylon’s four playing seasons at Tech, he not only inspired love from his teammates, but a healthy fear and respect from opponents, and rightfully so.

As a defensive end for the Bulldogs, Jaylon wrapped up his college career with 45 career sacks, still the most in Tech and NCAA history, all while setting a school and Conference USA single-season record with 17.5 sacks in 2018 in the process.

In 51 career games, Jaylon earned his “Sack Daddy” nickname with flying colors from former walk-on Keon Johnson, racking up 66.5 career tackles for loss and 8 forced fumbles to go with his pass-rushing athleticism.

Baker described Jaylon as “unblockable” at practice, even giving teammates worrisome reps in lead-up to a game. If the light was green, No. 45 was full-go.

“There were some really young guys that probably hated their life for a time,” Baker said. “I remember him and O’Shea Dugas; there were some wars at practice with them – the slobber that came when he took out his mouthpiece. He never took a day or play off. That set the culture there during my time at Tech.”

His pass-rushing prowess didn’t come as a shock to Jackie Ferguson.

After all, her son predicted his path to success as a young boy, still dreaming about the chance to play college football and crack the NFL.

As a kid, Jaylon wrote a list of goals on his bedroom wall, each written out with a strong, black marker to keep his plan solid. The mission was simple: make all-state in high school, go to college, graduate college, and go to the NFL.

“He did all of them,” Jackie said. “He was strong minded and had a will and determination about him. If he wanted it, he was going to get it.”

So, when the time came to join the Bulldogs, he knew it was his chance to make NFL teams interested, and never cheated the process to get there.

And his mom had a front-row seat. “If he was playing, I was there watching,” Jackie said.

And what exactly did she think when she watched her son in action?

“Head hunting. Headhunter,” Jackie said. “Hitting somebody, anybody.”

After the Ravens selected him, Jaylon spent his first two seasons in the NFL headhunting with 61 tackles and 4.5 sacks – his first coming against Deshaun Watson Nov. 17, 2019. Three weeks later, “Sack Daddy” took down Bills’ quarterback Josh Allen for his second.

The 2022 season would have been Jaylon’s last on his rookie contract, looking to put together a solid enough season to earn a new contract with Baltimore.

While his opportunity to showcase his skills one last time never came, Lawson, Jaylon’s agent and close friend, said the Ravens were interested in keeping Jaylon around and expressed an eagerness to start contract dialogue to keep “Sack Daddy” in Maryland for additional years.

“He was definitely a big part of their plans for the upcoming season,” Lawson said. “They were excited about him, and Jaylon was excited. It was an exciting time in his life.”

An unforgettable legacy

Doni Smith continues to keep Jaylon Ferguson’s memory and legacy alive.

Jaylon Ferguson told Doni Smith her time would come.

As the two approached the decision to get married, conversation began to change as the two realized the time to grow up was fast approaching. It was time to become true adults: buy a new house, get married, and begin the needed life stages to set themselves up for life after football.

Jaylon knew once his time in the NFL was over, it would be Doni he’d lean on to bring out the best in his kids and make his legacy stronger as the years went on.

She just didn’t think it would come like this.

“He always told me, ‘When I stop playing football, it’s going to be your turn,’” Doni said. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Over the last year, Doni has worked to put together the Sack Daddy Foundation, a planned non-profit centered on youth mental health, specifically for Black athletes — hoping to use Jaylon’s story as the motivating message.

While she’s starting from scratch, still contacting sources to help her get proper financing and venues to set up, Doni is optimistic the organization will be the first in a long line of planned commemorations for her partner’s life.

Along with the foundation, Doni hopes to start scholarship funds and work with Louisiana Tech to hold youth camps.

“I feel like the torch has been passed to me, and I have to continue to build his legacy and don’t let his name die. Pretty much everything I do, I want it to be a reflection of who he was genuinely,” she said.

More than anything, Jackie Ferguson wants her son to be remembered for his kindness.

Beyond the recordbreaking legacy he left on the field in Ruston and the momentum he was building in Baltimore, Jackie asks the world to think of her son as a shining light.

For as lofty as his onfield production was, records like that may come and go.

A love for others that stretched from Louisiana, Baltimore and everywhere in between, can’t be replaced.

“His legacy? To be known for his big heart and loving heart and how he loved his family and his children,” Jackie said. “He left a legacy back here for his kids. He made it. He set his goals. He made it. It was an unfortunate time of death, but I feel God makes no mistakes. If it wasn’t his time to go, he wouldn’t be gone. I have to believe that. His job was done here.”

As Doni walks to her backyard in Ruston on a warm June morning, with the anniversary of Jaylon’s death getting closer, her heart is calmer now, still broken and bruised, but in a healthier place.

In the waning moments of her final message about her late partner, Doni tears up again, but with a realization that what she’s about to say is worth holding onto.

The grief will always be with her, and as her children grow older, they’ll eventually get to hear the whole story of who their father was, and they’ll be able to come together as a family.

But until then, Doni and her children will try to be the embodiment of his light as best they can, just like Jaylon asked of them.

“His name won’t go in vain. His hard work won’t go in vain,” Doni said. “As long as I’m living and breathing, as long as my children have breath in their bodies, they’re going to carry his last name and I’m going to carry his legacy.”