Honoring Bryan Mathis: The work must go on
Brandon and Bryan grew up in poverty and joined a gang long before they were old enough to legally drive a car. Bryan had even been shot. They had the requisite lived experience, or “license to operate,” in those rough neighborhoods.
Or, as Bryan said in 2024: “The most important part of LTO is to be able to go into a community and be relatable. I don’t always have to bring up my past, because I’m there to help them with their present.”
Bryan died this July at just 43 years of age, but his contributions, and his passion and commitment, will not be forgotten. He met people where they were.
“He had the ability to talk to everyone,” Brandon said of his brother. “He could relate to anybody.”
‘We can really do this’
Bryan and Brandon formed their own nonprofit, T.W.I.N.S, and became Memphis Allies implementing partners in Hickory Hill. The acronym stands for Together We Impact Neighborhoods and Nations, and Brandon said the name was Bryan’s brainchild.
Along with their older brother Earve Mathis, who is now a Memphis Allies regional supervisor, the twins found a path out of the street life and dedicated themselves to helping a community too often defined by gun violence.
He was relentless. He genuinely cared for people and didn’t judge them.
– Earve Mathis
Memphis Allies regional supervisor
“All of us realized if we could change, maybe we could help other people to change,” Earve said.
And Bryan was the biggest champion for that idea.
“Bryan was like, ‘Bro, we can really do this,’” Brandon recalled. “He loved the data. He loved to see the needle move on people coming into the program.”
Carl Davis, Memphis Allies’ managing director of operations, spoke at Bryan’s funeral. He recalled Bryan as “the man who could make people laugh until their stomach hurt. The man whose personality filled every room. The man who loved loudly. The man who made ordinary moments unforgettable.”
Noting that Bryan helped train more than 200 Memphis Allies staff members, Davis said recent hires have missed out, and so will those hired in the future.
“I would be lying if I said training has been easier since he has gone,” Davis said. “Matter of fact, I often find myself apologizing to the new hires because they don’t get the same experience.”
Seizing the moment
When older brother Earve was in sixth grade and earned the part of Michael Jackson in a school presentation of “Thiller,” Bryan filed that away for his and Brandon’s sixth-grade graduation.
“They were just supposed to call our names, and we’d just walk across the stage,” Brandon said, starting to laugh. “But we did a whole Michael Jackson routine. The crowd started going crazy.”
“If there was music playing,” Davis said, “Bryan was going to put on a show whether you asked him or not.”
He wasn’t afraid of the spotlight or of anything else. The task at hand was the task at hand, whether that required putting on a show or having a heart-to-heart conversation. And the impact he had on the lives he touched was immeasurable.
“Bryan was responsible for getting a gang leader relocated,” Brandon said. “The guy was even on Gangland TV. He told Bryan, ‘Man, you’re my angel. I finally get to be who I want to be.’”
‘Relentless’
In his own way, Bryan Mathis was a renaissance man: former gang member-turned gun violence interventionist; spontaneous performance artist; master chef; freestyle rapper.
“I don’t care what anybody says,” Brandon said. “My brother was the greatest freestyle rapper in the world. He’d rap about what you ate for breakfast, the clothes you had on, the last conversation he had with you, the next conversation he would have with you.”
Yes, he was a free spirit, but he was also serious about his business. When T.W.I.N.S encountered a challenge while working with a participant, it was never just a one-off situation. It was an opportunity to learn and then train.
“He’d come back and give us the diagnostics,” Brandon said.
Bryan knew what was at stake: not just a chance to stop the next shooting and make the city safer, but the opportunity to turn a life around and make a generational impact.
“He was relentless,” Earve said. “He genuinely cared for people and didn’t judge them.”
Which means the best way to honor Bryan is for this work to continue with the same passion and commitment he gave every day.
“I just hear him saying, ‘Bro, you can’t stop, man. You gotta go all out,’” Brandon said. “So, whatever it is, that’s what I have to do — go all out. There never was a doubt in his mind that we could make an impact.”



