In photographs, one of the first things you notice about Casey Goodson is the hair.
On those instances it wasn’t braided down or tucked beneath a motorcycle helmet, Goodson’s hair generally flowed wild and free, his long, untamed black curls operating as a billowing extension of his personality.
“His hair would bounce when he walked. And when he was mad, he’d walk fast, and his hair would bounce fast,” said Goodson’s mother, Tamala Payne. “He cut it a few times when he got tired of it, but the day he’d cut it he’d be like, ‘I’m about to let my hair grow back.’ He always kept his hair. He loved his hair. It was always wild and all over the place.”