A boxer, leader and community healer: Slain Newark imam left a lasting legacy

When Hassan Sharif first stepped inside the Charlie Dew Drop Boxing Club in Newark, New Jersey, he was a young dad with a hulking frame. But what stood out more than his size, his former boxing coach said, was the quiet, dignified way he carried himself outside of the ring.

“He was all muscle,” said John “Brother Yahya” Thompson, who trained Sharif for a handful of amateur bouts in the late 1990s. “But he was a peaceful guy. I’ve never even heard him argue.”

Sharif went on to become the imam of one of Newark’s most storied mosques. He developed a reputation as a tireless community leader who fed the needy and fought gun violence.

But Sharif, 52, was fatally shot outside the Masjid Muhammad mosque on Jan. 3, a still-unsolved murder that has stunned and baffled those who knew him well.

“When I heard what happened, I was like, ‘Who’d want to do something to him?’” Thompson said.

Newark detectives are investigating whether a family member is behind the killing, three law enforcement sources have told NBC News. It wasn’t clear what may have motivated the attack.

A spokesperson for the Essex County Prosecutor’s Office, which is leading the investigation, said it remains ongoing. He declined to comment further.

The revelation that the killing may have been carried out by a relative came as a shock to some of Sharif’s close friends and family.

“If it was somebody in the street world, I could understand that, because he was trying to put a stop to the crime around the neighborhood,” his cousin Andre Little said. “But for the life of me, I couldn’t even begin to understand why somebody in his family would want to hurt him.”

“Whoever did this,” Little added, “they’re not safe anywhere they go.”

The incident wasn’t the first time an imam who led the mosque was killed. It also wasn’t the first time that someone had pulled a gun on Sharif outside his house of worship.

‘He always showed up for us’

Sharif was raised in Newark, where his father ran a tire repair shop. His given name was Tony Wooten. But he changed it after converting to Islam around the age of 20, his cousin said.

Sharif became imam of Masjid Muhammad in late 2018 when he was 47 and already working as an officer for the Transportation Security Administration at Newark Liberty International Airport. His relative youth allowed him to connect with young people in a way that many imams cannot, his supporters said, and he quickly became known as a progressive leader for whom no request was too big or small.

Sharif gave lectures at local high schools, attended rallies on climate change and police brutality, participated in interfaith events for murder victims, and went out into the streets to implore gang members to turn their lives around.

“Any rally, any community event, the imam was always on speed dial, and he always showed up for us,” said Dawn Haynes, a Newark Board of Education vice president and member of the mosque.

Four weeks before Sharif was killed, Haynes’ 11-year-old daughter was raising money ahead of a cheerleading competition in Florida. He welcomed her into the mosque to make her pitch.

“The imam didn’t hesitate,” Haynes said, “and he made sure other congregants supported her, too.”

Sharif volunteered at a local food pantry. He also opened up his mosque for the Muslim League of Voters to serve hot meals to people in the community.

Jimmy Small, the organization’s president, said Sharif had a great sense of humor and the ability to connect with people from all different walks of life.

“On the days he did the feedings, cops would come up to have friendly conversations,” Small said. “Drug addicts, alcoholics, all kinds of folks — they would all come and talk to him.”

Newark Mayor Ras Baraka said he last saw Sharif at an event held at a local church to provide support to family members who were grieving the loss of friends and relatives.

“The imam spoke in church to many people praying for their families who lost loved ones during the past year, not knowing his life would soon come to an end,” Baraka said at a gathering of Muslim leaders last week.

“He was in service all the way up to his last days.”

On Jan. 3, Sharif arrived at the mosque for morning prayers in the pre-dawn hours. He was still inside his car when he was shot multiple times at about 6:15 a.m., authorities said. The imam was rushed to a nearby hospital, but he couldn’t be saved. He died at 2:20 p.m.

As the news spread across the city and state, dozens of worshipers and friends of Sharif’s gathered at the mosque, a former vaudeville theater painted in a distinctive teal and yellow.

The building was turned into a Nation of Islam mosque in 1958. The house of worship known as Mosque 25 was led by Imam James Shabazz, a top aide to Malcolm X.

In September 1973, Shabazz was shot several times while in the driveway of his home in Newark. The two gunmen fled and were never caught, according to local reports. The killing was believed to be orchestrated by members of a rival faction who accused Shabazz of being corrupt.

Imam Wahy-ud Deen Shareef, the convener of the Council of Imams in New Jersey, said Sharif and the other religious leaders in his group follow the teachings of Imam W. Deen Mohammed, who renounced the hard-line Black nationalism pushed by his father, Nation of Islam leader Elijah Muhammad, and moved his followers toward mainstream Islam.

“Many of the mosques that exist today exist as a result of members who were at Masjid Muhammad and went out and established other mosques,” Shareef said.

Shareef said he gave Sharif a history lesson about the mosque soon after the man was named resident imam.

“He was intense in terms of his focus on what he wanted to accomplish,” Shareef said.

“He wasn’t the kind of leader who is content with just giving lectures or speaking with people. He was the kind of leader who would demonstrate to people the kind of work that needed to be performed to improve the quality of life for the community.”

‘I will not be intimidated’

Sharif had been working for the TSA for more than 10 years before he took over as imam of the mosque. He often worked the overnight shift and headed straight to Masjid Muhammad from the Newark airport for morning prayers.

One day last August, Sharif pulled into the parking lot of the mosque in the early-morning hours and got out of his car. Just then, he wrote on Facebook, a man put a gun to his head. Sharif managed to wrestle away the firearm. As the man fled, he pulled the trigger, but the gun didn’t fire, Sharif wrote.

“As I’m writing this, tears are flowing from my eyes, because [if] that gun would’ve fired, I would’ve killed a young black man, ending his life,” Sharif said in the Facebook post.

But he also added: “I will not be intimidated by anyone of you punks who thought it was ok to come up with this plan or to put the idea in this young man’s mind.”

A friend, Ali Muslim, said he was at the mosque at the time and stepped outside just as the two men were tussling.

Muslim said Sharif bit the gunman’s finger and then got control of the weapon. He watched as Sharif tried to shoot the fleeing man.

“I don’t know why that guy did it and I don’t know what’s going on now,” Muslim said.

Investigators are probing whether the August incident is connected to the imam’s murder, two law enforcement sources said.

When Sharif’s cousin heard about the August run-in, he suspected the gunman was a local drug dealer seeking to intimidate the imam. But Sharif himself seemed to have no idea who was responsible.

“He just wasn’t sure,” said the cousin, Little.

Shareef, the convener of the Council of Imams in New Jersey, said he spoke with Sharif in the days after the confrontation. One thing the imam said struck Shareef and remained in his memory.

“He didn’t want to talk too much about it,” Shareef said. “His comment was, ‘That’s not going to deter me from doing what I have to do.’”