Uncas
04-26-2012, 08:01 AM
http://www.nypost.com/p/news/national/zimm_own_black_roots_drive_to_aid_acj8TBRV1K2T3VbQ ZYo9JK
SANFORD, Fla. — A pit bull named Big Boi began menacing George Zimmerman and his wife, Shellie, in the fall of 2009.
The first time the dog ran free and cornered Shellie in their gated community in Sanford, George called the owner to complain.
The second time, Big Boi frightened his mother-in-law’s dog. Zimmerman called Seminole County Animal Services and bought pepper spray. The third time he saw the dog on the loose, he called authorities again. An officer came to the house, county records show.
“Don’t use pepper spray,” he told the Zimmermans, according to a friend. “It’ll take two or three seconds to take effect, but a quarter-second for the dog to jump you.
“Get a gun.”
That November, the Zimmermans completed firearms training at a local lodge and received concealed-weapons gun permits.
They bought a pair of guns in early December, a source close to them said. George chose a lightweight Kel-Tec PF-9 9mm handgun.
By June 2011, Zimmerman’s attention had shifted from the loose pit bull to a wave of robberies that rattled the community, called the Retreat at Twin Lakes.
The homeowners association asked him to launch a neighborhood watch, and Zimmerman began to carry the Kel-Tec on his regular, dog-walking patrol — a violation of neighborhood-watch guidelines but not a crime.
Few of his closest neighbors knew he carried a gun — until two months ago.
On Feb. 26, George Zimmerman shot and killed unarmed black teenager Trayvon Martin in what Zimmerman says was self-defense, setting off a national furor over gun and self-defense laws and race relations.
While Zimmerman was in hiding, detractors called him a vigilante who decided Martin was suspicious because he was black.
When Zimmerman was finally arrested on a charge of second-degree murder more than six weeks after the shooting, prosecutors portrayed him as a violent and angry man who disregarded authority by pursuing the 17-year-old.
But a more nuanced portrait of Zimmerman in the months before the shooting has emerged, based on extensive interviews with relatives, friends, neighbors, schoolmates, co-workers and reviews of court documents and police reports.
The 28-year-old insurance-fraud investigator comes from a deeply Catholic family and was taught to do right by those less fortunate.
He was raised in a racially integrated household and himself has black roots through an Afro-Peruvian great-grandfather — the father of the maternal grandmother who helped raise him.
A criminal-justice student who aspired to become a judge, Zimmerman also concerned himself with the safety of his neighbors after a series of break-ins committed by young African-American men.
Though civil-rights demonstrators have argued Zimmerman should not have prejudged Martin, one black neighbor of the Zimmermans said recent history should be taken into account.
“Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. I’m black, OK?” the woman said, declining to be identified because she anticipated backlash.
“There were black boys robbing houses in this neighborhood. That’s why George was suspicious of Trayvon Martin.”
Zimmerman was born in 1983 to Robert and Gladys Zimmerman, the third of four children.
His father, Robert Sr., was an Army vet who served in Vietnam and spent the final 10 years of his military career at the Pentagon before retiring to Florida, a family member said.
Robert and Gladys met in January 1975, when she was visiting from Peru. They soon married in Alexandria and moved to nearby Manassas.
Gladys was involved in Catholic church outreach programs. She would bring young George along with her on “home visits” to poor families, said a friend, Teresa Post.
“It was part of their upbringing to know that there are people in need, people more in need than themselves,” said Post, a Peruvian immigrant who once lived with the Zimmermans.
Post recalls evening prayers before dinner in the ethnically diverse Zimmerman household, which included siblings Robert Jr., Grace and Dawn.
“It wasn’t only white or only Hispanic or only black. It was mixed.”
Zimmerman’s maternal grandmother, Cristina, who had lived with the family since 1978, worked as a baby sitter for years during Zimmerman’s childhood.
For several years. she cared for two African-American girls who ate their meals at the Zimmerman house and went back and forth to school each day with the Zimmerman children.
“They were part of the household for years, until they were old enough to be on their own,” Post said.
Zimmerman served as an altar boy from age 7 to 17.
“He wasn’t the type where, you know, ‘I’m being forced to do this,’ and a dragging-his-feet Catholic,” said Sandra Vega, who went to high school with George and his siblings.
“He was an altar boy for years, and then worked in the rectory too. He has a really good heart.”
George grew up bilingual, and by age 10, he was often called to the principal’s office to act as a translator between administrators and immigrant parents.
At 14, he became obsessed with becoming a Marine, a relative said, joining the after-school ROTC program and polishing his boots by night.
At 15, he worked three part-time jobs on nights and weekends — in a Mexican restaurant, for the rectory and washing cars — saving to buy a car.
After graduating from Osbourn HS in 2001, Zimmerman moved to Lake Mary, Fla.
His parents purchased a retirement home there in 2002, to bring Cristina, who suffers from arthritis, to a warmer climate.
On his own at 18, George got a job at an insurance agency and began to take classes at night to earn a license to sell insurance.
He grew friendly with Sanford attorney John Donnelly, whom he met through a co-worker.
“George impressed me right off the bat as just a real go-getter,” Donnelly said. “He was working days and taking all these classes at night, passing all the insurance classes, not just for home insurance, but auto insurance and everything. He wanted to open his own office — and he did.”
In 2004, Zimmerman partnered with an African-American friend and opened up an Allstate insurance satellite office, Donnelly said.
Then came 2005, and a series of troubles. Zimmerman’s business failed, he was arrested and he broke off an engagement with a woman who filed a restraining order against him.
In February, Zimmerman called police to report what he said was suspicious behavior by Martin.
After the call ended, several minutes passed when the movements of Zimmerman and Martin remain a mystery. Moments later, Martin lay dead with a bullet in his chest.
SANFORD, Fla. — A pit bull named Big Boi began menacing George Zimmerman and his wife, Shellie, in the fall of 2009.
The first time the dog ran free and cornered Shellie in their gated community in Sanford, George called the owner to complain.
The second time, Big Boi frightened his mother-in-law’s dog. Zimmerman called Seminole County Animal Services and bought pepper spray. The third time he saw the dog on the loose, he called authorities again. An officer came to the house, county records show.
“Don’t use pepper spray,” he told the Zimmermans, according to a friend. “It’ll take two or three seconds to take effect, but a quarter-second for the dog to jump you.
“Get a gun.”
That November, the Zimmermans completed firearms training at a local lodge and received concealed-weapons gun permits.
They bought a pair of guns in early December, a source close to them said. George chose a lightweight Kel-Tec PF-9 9mm handgun.
By June 2011, Zimmerman’s attention had shifted from the loose pit bull to a wave of robberies that rattled the community, called the Retreat at Twin Lakes.
The homeowners association asked him to launch a neighborhood watch, and Zimmerman began to carry the Kel-Tec on his regular, dog-walking patrol — a violation of neighborhood-watch guidelines but not a crime.
Few of his closest neighbors knew he carried a gun — until two months ago.
On Feb. 26, George Zimmerman shot and killed unarmed black teenager Trayvon Martin in what Zimmerman says was self-defense, setting off a national furor over gun and self-defense laws and race relations.
While Zimmerman was in hiding, detractors called him a vigilante who decided Martin was suspicious because he was black.
When Zimmerman was finally arrested on a charge of second-degree murder more than six weeks after the shooting, prosecutors portrayed him as a violent and angry man who disregarded authority by pursuing the 17-year-old.
But a more nuanced portrait of Zimmerman in the months before the shooting has emerged, based on extensive interviews with relatives, friends, neighbors, schoolmates, co-workers and reviews of court documents and police reports.
The 28-year-old insurance-fraud investigator comes from a deeply Catholic family and was taught to do right by those less fortunate.
He was raised in a racially integrated household and himself has black roots through an Afro-Peruvian great-grandfather — the father of the maternal grandmother who helped raise him.
A criminal-justice student who aspired to become a judge, Zimmerman also concerned himself with the safety of his neighbors after a series of break-ins committed by young African-American men.
Though civil-rights demonstrators have argued Zimmerman should not have prejudged Martin, one black neighbor of the Zimmermans said recent history should be taken into account.
“Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. I’m black, OK?” the woman said, declining to be identified because she anticipated backlash.
“There were black boys robbing houses in this neighborhood. That’s why George was suspicious of Trayvon Martin.”
Zimmerman was born in 1983 to Robert and Gladys Zimmerman, the third of four children.
His father, Robert Sr., was an Army vet who served in Vietnam and spent the final 10 years of his military career at the Pentagon before retiring to Florida, a family member said.
Robert and Gladys met in January 1975, when she was visiting from Peru. They soon married in Alexandria and moved to nearby Manassas.
Gladys was involved in Catholic church outreach programs. She would bring young George along with her on “home visits” to poor families, said a friend, Teresa Post.
“It was part of their upbringing to know that there are people in need, people more in need than themselves,” said Post, a Peruvian immigrant who once lived with the Zimmermans.
Post recalls evening prayers before dinner in the ethnically diverse Zimmerman household, which included siblings Robert Jr., Grace and Dawn.
“It wasn’t only white or only Hispanic or only black. It was mixed.”
Zimmerman’s maternal grandmother, Cristina, who had lived with the family since 1978, worked as a baby sitter for years during Zimmerman’s childhood.
For several years. she cared for two African-American girls who ate their meals at the Zimmerman house and went back and forth to school each day with the Zimmerman children.
“They were part of the household for years, until they were old enough to be on their own,” Post said.
Zimmerman served as an altar boy from age 7 to 17.
“He wasn’t the type where, you know, ‘I’m being forced to do this,’ and a dragging-his-feet Catholic,” said Sandra Vega, who went to high school with George and his siblings.
“He was an altar boy for years, and then worked in the rectory too. He has a really good heart.”
George grew up bilingual, and by age 10, he was often called to the principal’s office to act as a translator between administrators and immigrant parents.
At 14, he became obsessed with becoming a Marine, a relative said, joining the after-school ROTC program and polishing his boots by night.
At 15, he worked three part-time jobs on nights and weekends — in a Mexican restaurant, for the rectory and washing cars — saving to buy a car.
After graduating from Osbourn HS in 2001, Zimmerman moved to Lake Mary, Fla.
His parents purchased a retirement home there in 2002, to bring Cristina, who suffers from arthritis, to a warmer climate.
On his own at 18, George got a job at an insurance agency and began to take classes at night to earn a license to sell insurance.
He grew friendly with Sanford attorney John Donnelly, whom he met through a co-worker.
“George impressed me right off the bat as just a real go-getter,” Donnelly said. “He was working days and taking all these classes at night, passing all the insurance classes, not just for home insurance, but auto insurance and everything. He wanted to open his own office — and he did.”
In 2004, Zimmerman partnered with an African-American friend and opened up an Allstate insurance satellite office, Donnelly said.
Then came 2005, and a series of troubles. Zimmerman’s business failed, he was arrested and he broke off an engagement with a woman who filed a restraining order against him.
In February, Zimmerman called police to report what he said was suspicious behavior by Martin.
After the call ended, several minutes passed when the movements of Zimmerman and Martin remain a mystery. Moments later, Martin lay dead with a bullet in his chest.