Will 'Turtle' Jackson carries pain with him into Georgia career

ATHENS -- Will Jackson hoists one jumper after another at an afternoon shootaround before class. He's the only player on the Stegeman Coliseum floor.

Between shots he shakes his head. His shaggy hair looks a few weeks removed from a visit to the barber. Tears of sweat drag race down his forehead. The nets pop.

Nicknamed "Turtle," he's more of a gym rat as he preps for his first season as a college athlete at Georgia.

He grunts as he dribbles a ball off of his foot. Squeals from his war-torn red sneakers pierce the air. A brace cages his left knee as chases the ball.

The echo of the basketball off the hardwood is the soundtrack to his life.

"This is home for me," Jackson said.

Jackson's first name, Will, staid and sturdy, comes from his father, his first coach and the force who drilled his son with a weekly basketball routine. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Jackson made 500 to 800 jump shots before school and worked on-ball handling before and after practice.

But Tuesdays and Thursdays?

"Conditioning," Jackson said. "My dad made sure I was an all-around basketball player since I was 3 years old."

Jackson earned his nickname "Turtle" in the womb. His mother, Lorry Jackson, went in for a sonogram while pregnant with him in Buffalo, New York. The clinicians called female fetuses "hamburgers" and males "turtles."

The nickname stuck, even after his family moved to his mother's new job with Eaton Aerospace in Toccoa when Jackson was 5.

Before Jackson met teammate Kenny Gaines on his official visit to Georgia, the two faced off in the 2012 GHSA Class A championship game. Jackson, a freshman at Athens Christian, had his hands full against the senior Gaines and a Whitefield Academy squad ranked second in the state.

Georgia head coach Mark Fox wrapped up his third season the night before and watched Gaines go against the raw, rail-thin Jackson. Fox had seen the freshman play a few weeks before, but said "that was the game that drew our attention."

"Every time I watched him play he did impressive things," Fox said.

Gaines remembers one highlight in particular that flashed Jackson's potential.

"My teammate got beat, I was the help defender," Gaines said. "I came over to block the shot, and he curled a layup around me. I was little embarrassed at first. I was like, 'This little kid just scored on me.' "

Jackson scored 20 points in Athens Christian's 73-49 loss. He played all but the final six seconds of what would be his only appearance in a state championship game.

"He's unique," Fox said of Jackson's talents. "We haven't had a guy quite like him."

Heading into his junior year, Jackson's game and reputation blew up and led to trips to Kansas, an offer from Memphis and his face on an IMAX-sized slideshow in front of thousands during Connecticut's Midnight Madness.

"Coach K and Duke could've sealed the deal when he was 6," Jackson's mother said of his early love for Duke.

But a different Coach "K," Connecticut's Kevin Ollie, called, and "He and my mom really hit it off," Jackson said. Those phone calls and the early support from Connecticut fans eventually led to him committing in February.

The roller-coaster ride reached a peak that spring. Then it dropped.

During the summer, Jackson received treatment for knee pain. He learned he had played the region tournament through the state Final Four with a torn meniscus. Jackson needed surgery.

His high school best friend, Johnny Morgan, joined him in the hospital. But it wasn't for a visit. Morgan had throat cancer. During that time in the hospital the two grew closer. As the 6-foot-5 phenom dealt with his newfound fame, Morgan reminded him to stay humble and hungry. They watched "Bizarre Foods" to pass time.

"We said we'd eat (Rocky) Mountain oysters one day once we were done with our treatment," Jackson said.

They never had that meal. On Sept. 13, 2014, Morgan died. Jackson, on crutches, just laughed in disbelief. A week later, he faced reality at Morgan's funeral. He sat stone-faced as he heard the final text message he'd sent Morgan read in a eulogy.

This wasn't the first time Jackson had to come to grips with losing someone who was like a brother to him. He had lost his real one a few months earlier.

It was 1:30 a.m. on Aug. 17 when Jackson heard his mother's cries echoing through the house. He learned why in a church service later that day. His 23-year-old brother, Dawud Lawson, was shot and killed in Buffalo. According to police reports, it was a drug deal gone wrong.

Jackson's mom said her sons were close growing up.

"They rode bikes together their first winter in Georgia after leaving the Buffalo snow," she said. "They played sports. They fought. They bonded."

As they got older, they drifted apart. Jackson said as he began to fall in love with basketball, his brother fell in with a different crowd.

"I never understood his lifestyle," Jackson said.

Jackson rode with a cousin to the final viewing in Buffalo. They blared Rich Homie Quan's "Lifestyle" through the calm, suburban neighborhood. Jackson laughed as they walked up to the small and modest building. The smile faded once he saw his brother's casket.

A Georgia "G" flag laid across the casket as it was lowered into the ground. Jackson's voice trails off when he recalls a portrait of himself resting atop the cloth.

A few weeks before Lawson died, he spoke to his mom about Jackson's college plans. A strong Georgia fan, he pleaded with her to convince his brother to stay and play close to home.

Fox and Gaines respected the commitment to Connecticut but stayed in Jackson's ear about reconsidering. Why not build his legacy, the Georgia way?

Lawson's final words to Jackson's mom -- and Jackson's final image of him -- were the swing vote.

"I got hell for (decommitting)," Jackson said. "But I knew I was making the right decision. My dad always told me it's fun to have a little pressure on you."

Jackson, who ended his prep career at Athens Christian with a 108-14 record, has yet one more loss to carry on to the court during his Georgia career.

Athens Christian head coach Ron Link was there every game for Jackson in high school, coaching and critiquing. Link died from ALS -- amyotrophic lateral sclerosis -- on May 21, five days after Jackson graduated.

"We were like father and son," Jackson said.

Jackson fought back tears when he heard Link -- the coach with more than 700 career wins, 10 region titles and 14 state championship appearances -- called him the best player he ever coached.

Jackson relies heavily on the faith Link and his family instilled in him to stay motivated in the wake of tragedy.

"He feels their presence pushing behind him, rooting for him, and cheering for him," Jackson's mother said. "He talks about his cheering section in heaven, and that he has awesome cheerleaders rooting for him to make it."

This story was originally published November 19, 2015 at 6:22 PM.