If a neighbor's grass needed mowing, Clarence "C.J." Robinson was the one to mow it. If a garage needed cleaning, he'd show up early to help clean it. If neighborhood cars needed washing and a wax - guess who would be there, a towel in hand?

While painful and sad to family and close friends, it was hardly shocking when the 18-year-old died the way he lived: helping people.

Robinson was shot on North Collins Street near Washington Drive as he approached a Chevrolet Tahoe after hearing the sounds of a crying baby, said his sister, Malika Pinion.

At 6:30 p.m. on Tuesday, March 20, during the City Council Meeting at City Hall, Robinson's family will be presented with a posthumous State Resolution and City Proclamation fitting that of a young man who was fatally shot while wanting to lend a hand during a multi-vehicle wreck in North Arlington. State Representative Diane Patrick will present the state resolution.

"I'm hurt, I'm angry, but so proud knowing that my child left here a hero trying to help someone else," said Robinson's mother, Sharon, who lives in New Orleans and will attend the ceremony. "It's so wonderful to know that he'll be recognized for doing the right thing."

Along with Robinson's family members, students from Lamar High School where he attended, and colleagues from Potbelly Sandwich Shop where he worked will also be in attendance at the ceremony.

Robinson's Life
Robinson was 11 when Hurricane Katrina drove his family out of the city to Jackson, Tenn. From there it was to Dallas-Fort Worth where his uncle and sister lived.

"We were there for three years and moved back to New Orleans in 2008 and C.J. came kicking and scratching," Sharon Robinson said. "He loved Texas and wanted to stay, but I told him when he became of age he could move back there."

Robinson became of age, and back to Texas he went. Pinion, who lives in Arlington, said Robinson had carved out a niche for himself, working at a Potbelly Sandwich Shop.

"He had a roommate at the time but was just about to get his own apartment," Pinion said. "That was a really big deal for him. To have his own place."

Robinson's death has been hard to take for a mother whose last conversation with her son was how "he was working, wanted to further his education, and get his apartment."

"Mostly I'll miss that he gave to everyone," Sharon Robinson said. "No matter what was going on with him, if he knew I was down about something he would say, "Mom, don't worry.' He was always real encouraging. He might say a joke or to make me laugh. Then I'd be okay."

By Kenneth Perkins