Capítulo 1
When Football Dreams Become Nightmares
In the twilight of the 20th century, a young boy named ZJ navigates the painful transformation of his father from NFL superstar to someone increasingly unrecognizable. Jacqueline Woodson's verse novel "Before the Ever After" captures this heartbreaking journey through the eyes of a child witnessing his hero's decline. Published in 2020, this poignant exploration of family, identity, and loss resonated deeply with readers, earning the Coretta Scott King Author Award and becoming a New York Times bestseller. What makes this story particularly powerful is its foreshadowing of the CTE crisis that would later rock professional football. Through ZJ's innocent perspective, Woodson creates an intimate portrait of a family grappling with an unnamed condition that steals away the father they once knew, piece by piece, tackle by tackle.
Capítulo 2
The Weight of a Famous Father's Shadow
ZJ often wonders who he would be if "Zachariah 44" Johnson wasn't his famous football-playing father. To most people, he's just "Zachariah's son" or "the tight end guy's kid" - the tall boy with his daddy's broad shoulders. Unlike his father, ZJ doesn't dream of going pro in football; he's drawn to music instead. At school, he feels his father's shadow precedes him, making him almost invisible within it. Only his friends see the real ZJ, greeting him normally and eagerly awaiting the cookies his mom packs that he sneaks to them when the teacher isn't looking.
When asked if his father is his hero during an interview after his dad's Super Bowl win, young ZJ answers simply, "My dad's just my dad." Years later, sitting with Mom at games wrapped in blankets, close enough to see the sweat on his father's neck while fans chanted "Zachariah 44!", his perspective remains unchanged. His father isn't his hero, but "his every single thing."
The burden of fame touches everyone in the family. ZJ recalls being perched on his father's shoulders while crowds surrounded them, pushing items for autographs. He was also on his father's shoulders when a band marched through Maplewood playing a song someone had written about "the speed in his step." He remembers watching TV interviews with his father recounting Super Bowl plays. But later, ZJ notices the crowds growing smaller, and the coach telling his father to rest while trying not to stare at his daddy's shaking hands.
Even in their neighborhood, fame follows them. ZJ remembers how kids used to come running to his house when his father was home, but as his condition worsens, it feels like they're trying to run away. His friends make excuses not to come over, leaving ZJ alone in the drizzling rain, wondering if their Friday gatherings are now just a thing of the past.
Capítulo 3
The Golden Days Before Everything Changed
Life "before the ever after" glows in ZJ's memory like a perfect summer evening. His father would drive to Village Ice Cream before preseason training, letting ZJ ride in the front seat for "Man Time." People would point excitedly saying "That's him!" which back then "sounded like a cheer." Before the ever after, Daddy's hands didn't tremble, his voice didn't shake, and his head didn't hurt. There were picnics in Central Park, making up songs during drives, and enjoying sandwiches and chocolates on the grass near Strawberry Fields - a time when "the three of us lived happily before the ever after."
ZJ treasures the memory of his father challenging him: "Make me a rhyme, little man." Young ZJ responded with: "My name is Zachariah and I'm on fire. Can't go no higher than Zachariah." His dad praised him: "You got skills, son," and ZJ replied with another rhyme: "Yo, I know, I think I got 'em from you. Cuz you're Zachariah too!" The memory stands vivid amid what ZJ describes as "white space where memory should be."
ZJ remembers the first time his father heard one of his songs. It was pizza night - "extra cheese, extra sausage and lots of olives" - during summer with his mom away visiting grandmas. ZJ was singing about "the summer, our bright yellow kitchen, the good food and me and my daddy alone together." His father asked with surprise, "Who wrote that?" and then "You wrote that?" ZJ proudly confirmed he'd made it up himself before continuing his song "about pizza and summertime... about all the good things already here and the good things coming too."
On a snowy Sunday, ZJ's father calls him for their annual race day. ZJ remembers how their relationship has evolved - from being pushed in a jogging stroller to riding a scooter trying to keep up, to now running together. They stretch together and run through the snowy streets of Maplewood. When ZJ attempts to sprint ahead, his father easily catches up and passes him, calling back "One day, ZJ. But today is not that day!" ZJ keeps running, savoring the normalcy of the moment and already planning to win next year.
Capítulo 4
The Fantastic Four: Friendship as Sanctuary
In the midst of his father's decline, ZJ finds refuge in his tight-knit group of friends. ZJ, Ollie, Darry, and Daniel call themselves "the Fantastic Four," each bringing unique qualities to their friendship. Ollie can instantly solve complex math problems without showing off; Darry runs fast and "moves like water flowing" when he dances; Daniel performs amazing bike tricks and is genuinely caring, asking "You okay, my man? You need to talk?" when someone's troubled. ZJ himself plays guitar, creating songs that come into his head. When he plays music, "everything makes some kind of strange sense" as if his guitar "has all the answers."
Daniel joined the narrator, Ollie, and Darry in second grade, challenging them to a race. When he lost to Darry, he simply laughed and high-fived him, calling Darry's feet "like wings." Daniel was fearless on his bike, performing stunts others wouldn't attempt - popping wheelies, spinning, standing on the seat while speeding down steep hills. The three friends called themselves "Tripod," but with Daniel they became "the Fantastic Four." Even after breaking his arm at the skate park, Daniel kept riding, calling his cast "a second helmet" while performing gravity-defying stunts that left his friends both amazed and terrified.
Ollie's story is particularly moving. He claims he doesn't remember the beginning of his own story - "a tragedy" his mind has blanked out to protect itself. As a baby with green eyes and a bright red Afro, he was left outside a Texas church in a basket with a note: "Please take care of this baby. And love him like crazy too." Though he once carried this note everywhere, it's now too delicate, stored in a plastic bag. A preacher and his wife found and kept him, loving him as requested. After the preacher died, Bernadette, his mom, raised him alone. When kids ask Ollie about his ethnicity, he shrugs: "Maybe I'm all those things. And maybe I'm something else too." ZJ's father once told Ollie, "You're a hundred percent YOU."
When ZJ's father's condition worsens, his friends prove their loyalty. One Saturday morning, ZJ's friends Darry, Daniel, and Ollie arrive wearing pajamas under their jackets. Ollie, comfortable enough to raid ZJ's refrigerator, makes grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone. They sit together eating and talking about everything except ZJ's father. Their laughter and camaraderie fill "all the empty spaces" in the house, providing exactly the distraction and companionship ZJ needs during this difficult time.
After the traumatic incident when ZJ's father puts his arm through a window, his friends surround him at school, all placing their hands on his shoulders at once. "We heard about your dad," they say, "You know we got you, ZJ." Each gives him a "bro style" hug, pounding his back in solidarity. ZJ feels emotion rising-"a bubble in my throat and something painful pushing at the back of my eyes." He reflects that this is "a whole nother kind of pigskin dream" to have friends supporting you this way. They promise to visit later to keep him company, with Darry declaring, "The Fantastic Four got this."
Capítulo 5
When the Mind Begins to Fail
The first signs of trouble appear subtly. The morning after games, Daddy moves slowly, his entire 223-pound body aching "from toes to knees, from knees to ribs," each hit from yesterday's game remembered in his pain. But soon, more concerning symptoms emerge.
ZJ's father repeatedly tells the same joke about once being a tight end who wanted to be a wide receiver, but now he's "just wide." The first time, everyone laughed. The second time, ZJ points out it wasn't funny anymore. By the third time, when ZJ mentions his father always says that, his father insists it's his first time telling the joke and becomes uncharacteristically angry, shouting and crying - behaviors ZJ had never seen from his father before.
As 1999 ended, ten-year-old ZJ and his friends Ollie, Darry, and Daniel spent New Year's Eve at ZJ's house, half-believing radio warnings about the world ending at the millennium. While listening to Prince's "1999" repeatedly, ZJ's father unexpectedly burst in, yelling about the noise and not recognizing the boys he'd known for years. The boys were shocked - ZJ's father had never yelled at them before. They went to bed early, feeling as though their world had already ended in some way.
ZJ compares his father's concerning repetition to choruses in songs - while repetition works in music to emphasize importance, when his father repeats himself, people look at him strangely. His mother asks if he needs to lie down, which confuses and angers his father, making him yell "I'm not crazy!" The situation frightens ZJ so much that he repeats his final line - "How come it feels so scary?" - mirroring his father's troubling symptom.
ZJ recounts the first time his father forgot his name while they were doing a puzzle together. His father's hand was shaking, and when ZJ mentioned it, his father looked at him with unfamiliar eyes, asking "What's your name again, boy?" Frightened, ZJ ran to find his mother, but stopped when he heard his father call out "Little man" - not quite remembering his name, but recognizing him as his son.
The police came to ZJ's house after someone complained about his father's screaming. His daddy's head was hurting so badly that nothing helped - not pills, ice, or darkness. Despite his mother's pleas to rest, his father ran outside yelling in pain, saying "I don't know where I am anymore." When the cops brought him back, they recognized him as a famous football player, mentioning how much they missed seeing him play. His father eventually quieted to soft moans of pain while ZJ hid under the dining room table, where he eventually fell asleep until dawn.
Capítulo 6
The Medical Mystery: Football's Hidden Cost
On a bright Tuesday morning, ZJ's mother tells him she's taking his father to the doctor for tests - for his headaches and memory problems. She mentions they want to rule out dementia. As ZJ watches birds at the feeder, he remembers how his father used to name them for him and reassure him they'd survive winter because "Mother Nature's got their backs." Now, ZJ wishes he could ask if the doctors will make his father better and hear his mother offer the same comforting reassurance.
ZJ and his mother eat breakfast for dinner while his father lies in a darkened room. His mother reveals that a new doctor thinks his father's headaches are related to "all the times your dad got banged around" playing football. Initially excited that a diagnosis means his father might be cured, ZJ's hope fades when his mother explains it's not that simple - his father needs more tests and experimental drugs. ZJ remembers all the times he saw his father get rammed on the field, his helmet banging against others, and the time a vein broke in his eye. He realizes that though his father always got back up, "maybe some part of him stayed on the ground."
ZJ's father is being referred to a specialist in Philadelphia by doctors who suspect his condition might be a lingering concussion. Different medications cause various side effects - swollen feet, blurred vision, stomach problems - yet nothing helps. On appointment days, ZJ's mother rises before dawn to drive his father, leaving ZJ alone in the empty house. During these absences, ZJ wanders through their home, touching his father's trophies and medals, smelling the lavender oil on his pillow, trying on his enormous shoes, and ultimately breaking down in tears when no one can see him.
ZJ eavesdrops on his mother and Bernadette discussing other football players experiencing similar symptoms to his father. His mother mentions Mike who ran through a glass door, and Harrison who can't recite the alphabet despite being pre-med in college. Bernadette, who follows football "like astronomers follow stars," listens as ZJ's mother expresses frustration that doctors act like these symptoms are new. "Too many of them are going through some kind of thing," she says, convinced the doctors are lying about what's happening to these players.
ZJ reflects that there's no name for his father's condition - how his brain forgets small things like the date and important things like wearing a coat in cold weather. One morning, his father is afraid to go outside. Though ZJ wants to pull him through the doorway, he remains frozen, unsure what to do. His father explains his fear: "I don't know what's out there... Something big... Something broken that I don't know how to fix."
Capítulo 7
Music as Medicine: The Healing Power of Song
Throughout his father's decline, music remains the one constant that bridges their worlds. ZJ's father once shared his profound love for football, explaining how he's loved it since childhood despite "every broken toe and cracked rib and jammed finger." He tells ZJ that finding something you love is what matters: "You love food? You cook. You love clothes? You design." His father's passion for football engages all his senses - he loves the smell of the ball ("like leather and dirt and sweat and new snow"), the taste of cold air while running, the smell of rain-soaked fields, and the crowd's cheers. He concludes with wisdom: "When you love a thing, little man, you gotta love it with everything you got. Till you can't even tell where that thing you love begins and where you end."
For ZJ, that thing is music. ZJ recalls getting his first guitar at seven, though he'd wanted drums. His father explained he always wanted to play guitar as a child but only had access to a broken banjo with one string. When ZJ questioned why he got a guitar instead of drums, his father showed him their beautiful home and yard, explaining, "Sometimes a parent's going to give you something they wished they had when they were kids." Though initially disappointed, ZJ grew to love the guitar. Now when his father asks him to "play something pretty, play something soft," he does.
ZJ describes how certain songs stop something inside him and command his full attention. Unlike his friend Darry who dances to music, ZJ wants to move inside the story songs tell, to live within them and experience all their emotions. He finds comfort in knowing that like a chorus, happiness will always return. While listening to his parents' favorite song, "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire, he feels a powerful connection to the repeated question "Do you remember?" - wanting to shout back "Yes! I do."
ZJ leafs through notebooks filled with songs he and his father wrote together. He finds lyrics about the liver-in-pocket story his dad shared, remembering how they'd rap together with ZJ singing backup. They would play music from groups like Digable Planets and Arrested Development, layering their own lyrics over the tracks. ZJ recalls telling his dad their songs were better, and how his father would always stop whatever he was doing to make music together. Now ZJ mostly plays guitar alone, singing their songs and remembering those precious moments of connection.
Music remains a constant that helps ZJ's father remember and smile. His dad shares stories about old-school rap, particularly the Sugarhill Gang, reminiscing about a song that referenced someone's terrible cooking. He tells ZJ about having to eat his friend's mother's liver and onions, hiding the food in his coat pocket rather than insulting her. When ZJ dismisses it as just a story about food, his father insists it's about everything - how the best songs come from simple, everyday moments that somehow become memorable despite seeming insignificant.
At twelve years old, ZJ can only visit his hospitalized father at certain times and never alone, but he's allowed to bring his guitar. His mother gives them "Man Time" together, stepping outside with reassurances that everything will be all right. Though his father moves slowly now, with words that don't always come, he still lights up at ZJ's presence, calling him "little man" and asking for a song. ZJ reflects that until doctors figure out what's wrong, music is what he has to offer-their shared connection. When he plays, his father's real smile returns as he remembers who ZJ is.
Capítulo 8
A Family Redefined by Crisis
ZJ's mother emerges as the family's quiet strength throughout the crisis. During a Saturday night call, ZJ's grandmother asks about school and when they'll visit. When she asks about his father's condition, ZJ admits there's been no improvement - his dad's head hurts constantly and sometimes he can't see straight. As they talk about his father missing games, ZJ worries about what will happen if his dad can't play football anymore. Remembering how "deep water" was his grandmother's warning about getting into trouble, ZJ tells her that's exactly where they are now. Though his grandmother tries to stay positive, ZJ confesses what he truly wants: "I just want him to be Daddy again."
In the middle of the night, ZJ awakens to his father's painful moans down the hall, crying out about his head hurting. Following his mother downstairs, ZJ asks if his father will be okay. His mother initially tries to lighten the mood but eventually admits she doesn't know what will happen. They share a vulnerable moment as ZJ confesses he's scared and his mother admits the same, while upstairs his father's moans continue alongside the whistling teakettle.
ZJ comes home to find his father walking past without acknowledging him or asking about his day before slamming his bedroom door. In the kitchen with his mother, they silently eat candy - she only eats chocolate when worried, saying it helps her think. When ZJ asks about his father's condition, his mother can only respond with "These things take time," which sounds to ZJ like "an awful chorus to a really bad song."
For his father's birthday party, ZJ's family carefully curated the guest list. They excluded those who stopped visiting, those who made empty promises to help, those who spoke negatively to the press about his father's condition, and those who stopped including them in their social gatherings. Instead, they invited only genuine friends who consistently showed up and asked sincere questions about their wellbeing-people who actually cared enough to listen to their honest answers.
ZJ's family lives in a constant state of waiting-for doctors, tests, results, and treatments. They await an MRI to check for brain tumors, and try various therapies like acupuncture, hyperbaric oxygen chambers, and meditation to stop his father's shaking hands. Doctors repeatedly tell them "These things take time," which sounds to ZJ like "an awful chorus to a really bad song."
Capítulo 9
Living in the Aftermath: Finding New Dreams
Late at night, ZJ is awakened by the sound of shattering glass and his mother screaming. He runs to find his father with his arm through a broken window, cold air rushing in. His mother calls for help as his father, bleeding and confused, keeps repeating, "I have to get to that plane." Emergency responders arrive-men in white with stretchers, police officers, voices on walkie-talkies. ZJ's parents leave with them, and Uncle Sightman comes to stay. He puts his hand on ZJ's shoulder and tells him to get some rest, reassuring him: "It's all gonna be right in the morning."
The morning after his father's crisis, ZJ comes downstairs to find Uncle Sightman making breakfast while playing an old song about "blue lights in somebody's basement." Despite sleeping after the incident, ZJ woke up in tears. Uncle Sightman tells him both grandmothers and his aunt are flying in-"All your people rushing here to be with y'all." When ZJ asks how long they'll stay, Sightman assures him, "Long as you need them to be," adding that everyone "got you." ZJ chooses to go to school, wanting to fill his mind with academics rather than his troubles. When Sightman says his father is "okay" and "resting," ZJ contradicts him plainly: "But he's not okay." Uncle Sightman can only acknowledge the truth: "I know, big man. I know."
ZJ and his friends walk through the woods on a warm, drizzly day, tossing his father's football. Though ZJ has quit playing football, they still enjoy throwing it around casually. They encounter Everett jogging with training weights, determined to go pro someday. Seeing Everett's dedication, ZJ gives him his father's football-"Zachariah 44's ball"-which Everett receives with awe and gratitude. The gift carries unspoken meaning about dreams, loss, and letting go. After Everett leaves with the treasured ball, the boys return to sliding on wet leaves, playing without the burden of professional ambitions.
Then one Sunday morning in early spring, ZJ's father comes downstairs dressed and whistling a tune he hasn't whistled in a long time. Finding ZJ strumming his guitar in the window seat, he says he woke with a song in his head and asks if ZJ is ready to write it down. ZJ takes the notepad, opens it to a blank page, and smiles, hoping that "at least for today, maybe the waiting is over."
Soft music always makes ZJ's daddy smile. They listen to Minnie Riperton sing "Memory Lane," her voice soaring so high it feels like ZJ's chest might break open. "I wish I could sing like that," his father says, "Somebody needs to sing me a song like that all the time." ZJ's mother sits with her feet up while his father gently massages them, her eyes closed in contentment. "Everything feels real clear now," his father says. "Feels like some kind of blanket just lifted off my head." He invites ZJ to join them, calling him "little man." Through the window, ZJ can see his mother's garden beginning to bloom again-rhododendron, rose vines, bay leaf and lavender-all showing signs of renewed life.
Capítulo 10
The Legacy of Broken Dreams and Broken Bodies
ZJ recalls how his father used to share his childhood "pigskin dreams" of being someone's hero. Now ZJ understands why his father would sometimes tear up - "It's hard to stay a hero" when everyone's waiting for you to fail. His father once explained that footballs were originally made from pig bladders in the 1800s, making them laugh at the absurdity of someone deciding to inflate and throw a pig's bladder. ZJ reflects that when rubber balls replaced pig bladders, "the pigs were probably happier than anyone."
During a pickup football game, ZJ gets first pick because it's his father's football. He chooses Ollie, while Everett, an eighth-grade repeater, chooses Randy. The teams form with Daniel and Darry on ZJ's side. Though Everett brags they'll crush ZJ's team, ZJ knows Darry's speed and throwing arm complement his own catching ability, even if he's still too skinny for much else. Everett plays rough, tackling instead of two-hand touching. At the 20-yard line, ZJ attempts to throw like his father taught him-"Get the wind under it, ZJ. Use every single muscle you got to send it flying"-but before he can release the ball, Everett tackles him, bloodying his lip. After checking his teeth and continuing briefly, ZJ thinks of his father, walks off the field without taking his ball back, and swears "this time it'll be forever."
In the school bathroom, Everett apologizes to ZJ for tackling him during their game. When Everett asks why ZJ's father doesn't play football anymore, ZJ bluntly responds, "Cuz he got tackled one too many times." Everett, who shares his father's broad shoulders and light-brown skin, declares his ambition to go pro someday. ZJ admits they don't know the exact reason for his father's condition-"His head's just not right anymore." Everett sincerely hopes it gets better. Walking slowly to science class afterward, ZJ feels the weight of their exchange-"His head's just not right anymore," "I'm gonna go pro one day," "We don't know the reason," "I hope it gets better"-the words circling in his mind, "sounding heavy and hard and forever."
ZJ remembers rushing to watch football games just to see his father - #44, tight end - running for touchdowns and crashing through defensive players "helmet to helmet, body to body." Now, as ZJ and his mother eat dinner while his father naps, she explains that doctors in Philadelphia are studying the connection between concussions and his father's condition. ZJ feels like they're caught in a penalty called "holding" - unable to return to their past life yet prevented from moving forward, while doctors know but don't know what's happening.
The family gathers around this struggle-his mother, grandmothers, aunt, Uncle Sightman, and ZJ's friends all providing support. ZJ concludes by acknowledging their shared history: his father's football dreams that became reality "for a long, long time." But now they face a different reality, one where the cost of those dreams becomes increasingly apparent with each passing day.
