The Locker Room Attendant Who Believed in LeBron James for 20 Years Falls on Hard Times—Until LeBron Steps In
In the hushed halls of St. Vincent-St. Mary High School, long before the world knew his name, a young LeBron James would slip into the gym after hours, the echo of a basketball the only sound in the stillness. Watching from the doorway, mop in hand, was Marcus Washington—the school’s janitor and unofficial locker room attendant. It was a role Marcus cherished, but not for the reasons one might expect.
“I saw a lot of kids come through those doors,” Marcus remembers, his voice roughened by years of night shifts and cleaning chemicals. “But LeBron… there was something different about him. He worked harder than anyone. He wanted it more.”
Back then, Marcus was just “Mr. Washington” to the students—a quiet, sturdy presence who kept the gym clean and the lights on for anyone willing to put in extra work. For LeBron, Marcus became more than a janitor. He was a sounding board, a rebounder, and a believer. “Great things come from great work,” Marcus would scribble on notes and tuck into Locker 23, LeBron’s sanctuary. Those words stuck.
As LeBron’s star rose, first in Akron and then on the national stage, Marcus watched with a pride that felt almost parental. He cheered from the stands as the skinny freshman became the most celebrated high school basketball player in America, then the NBA’s number one draft pick, and eventually, a four-time champion and global icon. Through it all, Marcus’s faith never wavered.
But while LeBron’s journey was one of ascendance, Marcus’s was marked by quiet hardship. Years of physical labor led to chronic back pain and, eventually, kidney disease. The recession hit Cleveland hard. When LeBron left for Miami in 2010, the Cavaliers cut staff, and Marcus lost his job. He bounced from gig to gig—gas station attendant, office cleaner, mall security guard—but the bills kept mounting. Without insurance, his dialysis and medications became a daily struggle. When his rent was raised and his old car broke down, Marcus moved into a damp basement apartment, living on the edge of poverty.
Through it all, he kept his most treasured possession: the high school jersey LeBron had given him as a thank you before the NBA draft. “It was more than a jersey,” Marcus says. “It was a reminder that I’d made a difference.”
As his health declined, Marcus’s world shrank. He sold off memorabilia to pay for medicine and food, but he could never bring himself to part with the jersey. Finally, in desperation, he listed it for sale online. That’s when a local journalist discovered his story.
The article, “The Man Who Believed in LeBron James Before Anyone Else,” struck a chord. Former students, Cavaliers staff, and strangers from across the country reached out. Some shared their own memories of Marcus’s kindness. Others offered help. The story spread, picked up by podcasts and national outlets.
One morning, Marcus’s phone rang. On the line was LeBron James.
“I read about what you’re going through,” LeBron said. “You were there for me when I needed it most. Now it’s my turn.”
Through his LeBron James Family Foundation, LeBron arranged for Marcus’s medical bills to be covered and offered him a job at the I PROMISE School in Akron, working with at-risk youth. The salary included full benefits and health insurance. The jersey, which LeBron bought back at auction, was returned to Marcus—this time encased in glass at the school, a symbol of belief and gratitude.
“Marcus believed in me before anyone else did,” LeBron said in a statement. “He taught me the value of hard work, humility, and kindness. I wouldn’t be where I am without people like him.”
For Marcus, the change has been life-altering. He now works as a mentor at the I PROMISE School, sharing his story with students who, like a young LeBron, need someone to believe in them. “I tell them what I told LeBron,” Marcus says. “Great things come from great work. Keep pushing.”
His health is stable, his spirit renewed. The jersey, once a lifeline, is now a beacon for the next generation.
“I never thought my story would matter,” Marcus says, looking out at the school gym where it all began. “But if believing in someone can change their life, then maybe that’s the greatest thing any of us can do.”
In a world hungry for heroes, sometimes the truest champions are those who cheer from the sidelines, mop in hand, believing quietly and steadfastly—until the world finally takes notice.
