That's when she knew.
Earlier she had gotten a phone call. But the caller said only that her son, 18-year-old Jayvon, had been shot.
She rushed to the scene. Officers sent her to the hospital. She went. She asked to see him.
They showed her the chapel. She balked at the door. "I don't want to go," she protested. "I know what that is!"
They coaxed her in. They closed the door.
Wayland could hardly breathe. Finally, the doctors and police came. She knew what was coming. She nearly passed out anyway.
Afterward she would remember one phrase from the conversation: Jayvon, she recalled them saying, "didn't have a drop of blood left in his body" by the time he arrived at the hospital.
He had attended Locke High School but didn't graduate. He was aiming instead for a technical certificate. He had taken some classes in mechanics at Compton Community College.
He was a natural fix-it man, constantly tinkering with the car, the microwave, his stereos, the TV, his family said. "He was always fixing up something I didn't want him touching," his grandmother said. Police suspect gang motives in the shooting, but it remains unsolved.
(Above, Wayland tries to put her son's broken glasses back together before the funeral. Above left, the bicycle shrine where he died. "I just want everyone into that gang stuff to know they need to leave that alone," she said. "Them bullets ain't got nobody's name on them." )