Damon Venson was the kind of teenager who made an impression the moment he walked into a room. He always looked good, always smelled good, and always had a smile that made people want to be around him.
“Damon loved the ladies, and the ladies loved him,” his mother, Charmaine Venson, said with a laugh. “He made sure every hair was in place and that he smelled fresh. He took two showers a day just to be sure.”
Born on March 7, 1972, Damon was Charmaine’s second-oldest child and her only son. From the moment he arrived, he was a handful—full of energy, curiosity, and charm. “He was into any and everything. He kept me and his teachers on our toes,” Charmaine said. “He was literally Dennis the Menace.”
He had a knack for mischief, but even more impressive was his ability to talk his way out of it. “He had a gift of gab,” she said.
One teacher once told Charmaine how surprised she was by Damon’s deep knowledge of the Bible. “I didn’t even know he was religious,” Charmaine recalled. “But apparently, he got into trouble and started quoting scripture. That’s how he won her over—and it kept him out of trouble.”
Damon spent his early years in North Philadelphia before the family moved to Germantown. He played basketball from ages 7 to 9, then transitioned to football in his teenage years. He attended Benjamin Franklin High School and Orleans Technical School, where he learned carpentry.
Charmaine did everything she could to help Damon find his path. She even convinced the manager at the Village Thrift Shop on Broad Street to give him a job. It didn’t last long.
“That job lasted for three days,” she said. “He went to lunch and never came back. He said the clothes stank, and he didn’t want the odor on him.”
The same thing happened at the Philadelphia Zoo. “He couldn’t take the smell from the animals,” she said, chuckling.
Despite his antics, Damon had a sweet, loving side. He was protective of his sisters, especially the youngest, who was only six months old when he was killed. “He’d run to her and scoop her up as soon as he got home,” Charmaine said. He was the self-appointed manager during family viewings of the movie *Sparkle*, pretending to be Stix while his sisters acted out the performances. “He couldn’t dance a bit, but it was so funny watching him try.”
Charmaine also has a very specific memory of Damon’s teenage tricks. “I kept thinking I had a gas leak because my car would always be low on gas,” she said. “One night I woke up and saw the car wasn’t where I left it. I ran downstairs to wake Damon and tell him my car was stolen—but he wasn’t there. Of course, when he came back, he swore he hadn’t touched it.”
On December 21, 1989, Damon was just 17 years old when he was shot and killed during a struggle with another person at the Richard Allen high-rise at 11th and Girard Avenue. He was found on the third floor of the complex and pronounced dead at the scene. His death remains unsolved.
Damon left behind a daughter, Damia, whom he never got the chance to meet. Tragically, she also passed away as a young adult. Still, his family holds tightly to their memories of him.
“We talk about him like he’s still here,” Charmaine said. “On birthdays and special days, we call each other and laugh about all the things he did. We miss him so much.”
Leave a Reply