Sha'Carri Richardson, chasing an Olympic legacy, has already made one back home

DALLAS — It’s the middle of June and just shy of 11 a.m. on a Wednesday. The track and infield at David W. Carter High School is bustling. The sky is mostly clear and bluer than a teenager’s tongue after a Jolly Rancher. The Texas heat is already sweltering, as if the sun rose from the East and loitered just south of I-20. It was hot enough to laminate skin with sweat. To dehydrate the dandelions on the barren grassy field across the street. To wonder if Willis Carrier deserved a Nobel Prize for his 1902 invention of the modern air conditioner.

But it’s not even remotely too hot for Kennedy Jackson-Miles, a 14-year-old whose fingers are spread on the rubbery surface of the track, her feet pressed against metal blocks. She’s a sprinter heading to high school and a prodigy for the Cedar Hill Blaze summer track club. It’s apparent as she explodes out of the blocks, throttles down after about 10 meters, then returns to do it again. Her T-shirt is soaked. Her forehead glistens. Her braces sparkle, because she’s smiling.

“I’m going to be in the Olympics in 2028,” she said during a break after her umpteenth rep from the blocks. “Because I have the mindset for it and I see it in my future.”

Sounds fantastical, predicting an Olympic debut at 18 years old. And then you see the look in coach Marcus Stokes’ eyes when he says she’ll be in Los Angeles in 2028. And then she spouts her birthday as if she’s bragging about its recency — “March Fourth, two-thousand ten” — and reminding you 14-year-olds aren’t choosing hours of work in this Texas oven, during their summer break, unless they’re built differently. And then you remember who preceded her on this journey.

On this same track, at this same school, in this same heat, Sha’Carri Richardson put in the same work. She is about to make her Olympic debut, qualified for the 100-meter in Paris, with a chance to secure her spot as a national legend and one of the marquee faces of American track and field.

“There’s no doubt about who’s the greatest to ever come out of Dallas,” said Robert DeHorney, a long-time coach in the area who is taking over as head coach of cross country and track at Hillcrest High School in North Dallas.

“And it’s Sha’Carri Richardson. … She was lights-out from the beginning. This baby was fast when she came out the damn womb.”

But Richardson was first, and still is, the face of a region and culture. The pride of Dallas. The might of North Texas. The ambassador for a local community teeming with talent.

For the longest time, it was undercover, hidden behind the monstrosity of Texas football. But Michael Johnson, Oak Cliff’s own, shined a spotlight on the track culture with his heroics in 1996. He had people all over North Texas claiming to be his cousin.

“Still,” Johnson said during an interview at Hayward Field in Eugene, Ore. “I got cousins I don’t even know.”

Johnson became a legend with his all-time performance in the 1996 Olympics, winning gold in the 200- and 400-meter races. But according to locals, he wasn’t a prodigy during his Skyline High School days. He was a late bloomer who blossomed at Baylor, where he won five NCAA championships and helped establish the Bears’ reputation as “Quarter Mile U.”

Johnson’s heroics, though, shined a light on a gem of a culture. Nothing tops the Friday Night Lights, but the Dallas sprint scene is one of fervor, immense talent and strong community — especially following Johnson, the first from the area to make it big in the sport.

“Great athletes are made across the country,” Johnson said. “There are special places everywhere. But Dallas is special to me. It’s home.”

Now, 28 years after Johnson put North Texas track and field on the international map, Richardson, also from the Oak Cliff area of Dallas, carries with her the spirit of her region. She’s taken it to new heights, especially for women sprinters.

Having already secured an epic world championship, she embarks on her debut Olympics in Paris with her home, her culture, on her back.

In Richardson is the sheer talent reminiscent of Roy Martin. They called him “Robot” because of his mechanical running style, but he’s one of the greatest high school sprinters ever. Straight out of Roosevelt High. His 200-meter dash of 20.13 seconds in 1985 is still the national high school record.

In Richardson is the competitive spirit of Marlon Cannon and Derrick Cunningham. Famous rivals in the 400 meters whose battles against one another lit up the city. Both local superstars, Cannon from South Oak Cliff and Cunningham from Carter High, would have Sprague Stadium teeming with excitement.

In Richardson is the strength of Henry Neal, the 5-foot-7, 177-pound sprinter from Greenville High, who, as a senior in 1990, ran the 100 meters in 10.15 at the state championships, a national high school record that lasted until 2019.

In Richardson is the showmanship of Michael Johnson. The ability to not only meet moments, but look good while doing so. He went into the Atlanta Games as the prohibitive favorite and illustrated his expectations with a gold earring, a gold Cuban link chain and his now-iconic gold Nike spikes.

In Richardson is the inspiration of the Texas Relays, the seminal event in the state. Held at the University of Texas, the high school portion is where kids put their big dreams on the line. Before packed stadiums, with their neighborhoods behind them, they test themselves against the best in the state. And Dallas always shows up.

“That’s how you make your mark,” said Vance Johnson, host of the Texas Track Dads podcast, and, most importantly, father of Indiana University-bound sprinter Aliyah Johnson.

“I tell everybody the same thing when their kids go down to Texas Relays their freshman year — they will never be the same. You have to qualify for the Texas relays. UT will post the names of who made it. And once they go, they’re gonna see the best in the state. And when they come back, they’re really gonna want to go hard. Because they’ve got to get back to Texas Relays.”

Richardson made her name living up to those occasions. Before she shocked the world with the race of her life in the 2023 world championships, before she became a national star at LSU by winning the national championship in the 100 meters and the coveted Bowerman Award, she was a must-watch in North Texas. Where summer meets are packed and high school meets carry the intensity of decades-long rivalries.

Students practice at Carter High’s John E. Kincaide Stadium in Dallas, Texas, where Sha’Carri Richardson once plied her trade. (Aric Becker / AFP via Getty Images)

In middle school, she won the 200-meter at the Dallas Independent Schools Invitational by three seconds. She was a freshman at the Leon Hayes Relay when she clocked 12.00 seconds in the 100 meters at John Kincaide Stadium in Dallas in 2015. Second place was 12.80 seconds.

As a sophomore, she won the 4A state title in the 100 for Carter and was runner-up in the 200. She defended her 100 title as a junior and won the state championship in the 200.

Richardson finished her high school career with another state championship in both. Her time of 11.12 seconds in the 100 bested the national record (11.14) set by Marion Jones 26 years earlier, though Richardson’s time was wind-aided. Her 200-meter time in 2018 was second-best in the nation and set a Texas state meet record. Richardson had fans, classmates and meet officials asking for photos and autographs.

Richardson has long been a show to behold.

“One time,” said DeHorney, who coached against Richardson all four years, “I can’t remember if it was a state meet or Texas relays, but she pulled up at least 10 meters from the line. And still ran 11.4. Blew my mind. She was on her heels for the last seven to 10 meters. Still 11.4. Never seen anything like that.”

Her swag didn’t come from nowhere. She absorbed it. From her people. From her neighborhood. From the track soil from which she sprouted.

Her particular section, Oak Cliff, has endured some of the same issues prevalent in the inner city around the nation. Raised by her grandmother, Betty Harp, Richardson’s life has been touched by many of the issues common in poverty.

“It’s a pretty tough area. You’ve got to come correct,” Michael Johnson said. “When I was growing up, it was a pretty good neighborhood. It became a lot more difficult after I left. By the time Sha’Carri came along, it was a rougher area. But it was always tough as far as competition. You had to have personality. You had to have confidence. Otherwise, you’d get eaten alive.”

Character is the fruit of struggle’s labor. The ones who survive, who thrive, do so because they’ve managed to harvest intangibles from the adversity.

And in North Texas track, when the work ethic merges with talent to produce greatness, it gets your name in the mouth of the neighborhood.

“Have you ever heard of Indya Mayberry?” DeHorney said. “She’s going to TCU. You ever heard of Nasya Williams? She’s going to LSU. Royaltee Brown is going to Baylor. Christine Mallard is at USC now. I’m trying to tell you it’s ridiculous down here, the amount of talent.”

That includes DeHorney’s daughter, Kennedy, a sprinter headed to Memphis on a full-ride scholarship.

They all know the name Sha’Carri Richardson. The next generation has developed an affinity for the superstar. Not only is she from their soil and has reached the pinnacle. But they’ve watched her fall from grace in the public eye and bounce back.

That matters in a community of overcomers.

“There’s no doubt about who’s the greatest to ever come out of Dallas,” says Robert DeHorney, a long-time coach in the area. “It’s Sha’Carri Richardson.” (Christian Petersen / Getty Images)

“They really look up to her,” said Vance Johnson, the host of Texas Track Dads, who interviews area runners on his show. “She made an adjustment but she never changed who the person is. She’s a professional, but she’s still Sha’Carri. And out here we like the spice. But she knows how to be professional, too. I think that’s important. It goes a long way. These young athletes, they see her.”

Krystan Bright, 18, is one of those youngsters who sees Richardson. That’s why, though she’s graduated from Cedar Hill High and no longer runs with the Blaze, she’s still on this Carter High track on this hot summer day. Right next to Kennedy Jackson-Miles, Bright working on hurdles in the thick warmth of June.

Bright’s AAU Junior Olympic T-shirt is soaked and tucked beneath her sports bra. Her face glistens with sweat. She pants as she talks after a rep on the first two hurdles. She is preparing to run track in college this fall. In her first-ever meet as a freshman, she ran the 300-meter hurdles in a minute. She was so slow, the team cut her. The magnitude of track in Dallas was instilled. She couldn’t go out like that. So she joined the Cedar Hill Blaze and committed to hurdles.

She just finished her senior season. She made state in the 300, finishing sixth in Texas at 42.67 seconds. She also holds her school records in the 100 and 300 hurdles.

In her is the resilience of Richardson.

“She’s such an inspiration,” Bright said. “To see her story and everything she’s been through, it gives a lot of motivation. She’s always been a superstar. It was a little different for me. I was an underdog. But once you get on that track, it’s the same for everybody. You gotta produce. And it’s all fun. It’s all good. It’s all love. It’s community.”

GO DEEPER

Sha’Carri Richardson, with emphatic win at trials, closing in on Olympic glory

(Top illustration: Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; photo: Hannah Peters / Getty Images)