When Emanuel Ervin was a child, his mother would take him to restaurants that had video games at the bar. He won so consistently that his initials stayed at the top of the list of the highest-scoring players.
“Grown men would be like, ‘Who is this EE? I want to meet this EE! He has all the highest scores! I can never beat him,’” his mother, Annette Bryant, said. “They met him and found out it was this little kid beating their scores, and they were amazed. And everybody just fell in love with him. He was always a loveable person.”
Emanuel, who went by the nicknames Manny and Sincere, was born Nov. 19, 1995 in Philadelphia. He was Annette’s only child.
As a kid, Emanuel liked to write and even wrote three children’s books: two about animals and one where he imagined his youth football team, the West Philly Panthers, winning the championship. He also wrote music, including a song for his mother.
But something that happened when he was 6 years old had a traumatic effect on the rest of his life. Emanuel saw law enforcement officers fatally shoot his father, who was attempting to kill Emanuel’s mother at the time.
“Witnessing his dad being murdered like that had a big impact, and I just didn’t realize how big of an impact it had on him,” Annette said.
As a result, he grew up quickly.
“He tried to step into his father’s shoes,” Annette said. “He tried to take care of me. The whole incident made me take some steps backwards.”
Life for Emanuel and Annette was unstable for a number of years, with so many ups and downs that Annette wants to write a book someday.
Despite everything, Emanuel remained a happy-go-lucky person who liked to keep everyone laughing.
“He hated seeing me down,” Annette said. “He always said he was going to be somebody important one day and he was going to get me out of Philadelphia and he was going to buy me a house and all the furs and diamonds.”
In January 2017, they were evicted from their house — they didn’t get to take any of their belongings — and went to live with a cousin. That night, Emanuel went to a party and came home with a bag of mismatched women’s clothes and gave it to Annette.
“I didn’t even ask,” she said with a laugh. “He did the best he could.”
Emanuel had a job application for a linen company and was planning to apply, but he didn’t get the chance. He was shot and killed Jan. 31, 2017 in Frankford. He was 21.
A few hours before his death, Annette had a meaningful conversation with him.
“He said, ‘Mom, I’ve been watching you over the years. Don’t think I don’t notice you. You’re good, mommy. You’re wise and you’re a strong black woman,’” Annette recalled. “‘But you got to let me go. I made my choices. I’m a grown man now and you got to let me go.”
Annette replied: “You’re my child and I love you, and I’m never gonna let you go.”
That was their last conversation.
“If I knew he knew he wasn’t going to be here anymore, I wouldn’t have let him go out that door,” she said.
Annette has found comfort in her faith since Emanuel has been gone. Still, she misses him.
“I miss his silliness and how he could make me laugh,” she said. “I don’t have anybody to argue with, I don’t have anybody to fuss at, It’s too quiet. I’m not hearing that music. Everything that got on my nerves about him being around is the stuff that I miss. I just miss him.”
Emanuel left behind a son, now 5 years old, who lives in Virginia. No arrests have been made in his case. Anyone with information is asked to call 215-686-TIPS. Callers can be anonymous.
