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Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Spirit of giving


Chris Wilcox, dunking over New Orleans' Aaron Williams, has found a home in Seattle. 
 (Associated Press / The Spokesman-Review)
Percy Allen Seattle Times

SEATTLE – The hundreds of smiling parents and children extending their arms for a warm embrace were strangers to Chris Wilcox, but somehow they seemed strangely familiar.

At Seattle’s Rainier Vista Boys & Girls Club and the five other community centers where he donated and delivered 540 turkeys, he felt a close connection to the impoverished families who remind him of the people who nurtured him in Whiteville, N.C.

“It’s like what they say: It ain’t where you’re from, but where you’re at,” the Sonics forward said of his new home. “I was in a similar situation growing up as those people. …”

At 24, the kid who was raised by his mother in North Carolina but who barely knew his father is grown up and ready to give back.

He was pondering what to do this Thanksgiving when it came to him: “Maybe I can give out some turkeys to some families in need.”

The gesture is not uncommon during the holiday season among the Sonics, a franchise that promotes community-outreach activities.

The team, however, had little to do with this event, and Wilcox unwittingly filled a sponsorship void.

“I was grateful because the parents were asking if we were getting turkeys donated for the holidays, and honestly I didn’t know,” said Denise Lewis, Rainier Vista’s senior program director.

“The families that live here are on public assistance and sometimes it (the turkeys) comes from the church, but I just didn’t know if it would happen this year.”

That’s when Wilcox stepped forward.

“The parents were excited. The kids were excited. We have a multicultural club, East African and Cambodians, and many of them have never seen anybody like that. He’s so tall, and when he walks into a room, you notice him.”

After a nomadic prep career, a brief, two-year stint at Maryland that included an NCAA championship and toiling in obscurity with the Los Angeles Clippers, Wilcox is finally ready for his close-up.

Can you see him? Look past the acrobatic, high-flying dunks, the chiseled 6-foot-10 physique and the thinly braided locks.

Did you see that? Did you see the sheepish smile he shared with teammates on the sideline?

Did you see his mother, Debra Brown, the person he calls his best friend, in the KeyArena stands or how much he dotes over his sister Tehesia, who suffers from lupus, a debilitating disease that has taken two of Brown’s siblings?

Did you see him gather the Sonics’ big men into a huddle before every game and lead a pregame discussion?

Because if you don’t see all of that, then you’re only seeing parts of Wilcox, which is what the Clippers saw before they gave up on the eighth pick in the 2002 draft and traded him to the Sonics on Feb. 14 for Vladimir Radmanovic.

“They didn’t see the best of me because I was always behind the scenes,” Wilcox said. “I wasn’t playing, and it’s hard to get guys’ respect when you’re not really playing, and it’s tough to be a leader somewhere where you’re not wanted.”

The Sonics have yet to see the Chris Wilcox who averaged 14.1 points and 8.2 rebounds in 29 games with them last season. But in many ways he’s more invaluable now than he has ever been.

As much as they need his team-leading 8.9 rebounds per game and 10.4 scoring average, the Sonics are desperate for leadership. So when Wilcox signed an incentive-laden $24 million contract, in which $19.5 million is guaranteed, coach Bob Hill told him to be more assertive on the floor and in the locker room.

Wilcox is big on forgiveness.

Five years ago, he called his father, Raymond Wilcox, to renew a relationship that had been severed when his parents divorced while he was a toddler.

“I had to reach out to him because I wanted and needed a male figure in my life,” Wilcox said. “So I reached out to him and told him, I don’t want nothing from you. The only thing I want is to be able to pick up the phone and talk to you.”

Wilcox is unapologetically a mama’s boy.

Brown, 51, worked 26 years with North Carolina’s Department of Corrections. Now she lives with her son in his newly purchased Sammamish-area home.

“She was a mother figure and a father figure for me and truth be told, I’m really here because of her,” Wilcox said.