Editor's note: This story originally ran in June 2015.

First the name: La’el. It’s pronounced Lah-EL.

“It’s Hebrew,” explained La’el Collins.

It was given to him by his grandmother.

On July 26, 1993 — his mother’s 29th birthday — baby boy Collins entered this world in a Baton Rouge, La., hospital with his umbilical cord wrapped tightly around his neck. There had been no hint of trouble. Sonograms had indicated it was supposed to be a routine birth of a seven-pound, 21-inch boy.

Suddenly the delivery room morphed into frenetic action.

“It was crazy,” the mother recalled almost 22 years later.

When calm was restored and mother was able to finally cradle her baby in her arms, she looked at him and said, “Boy, you belong to God.”

And so the mother’s mother consulted her Bible. In the Old Testament book of Numbers, right there in Chapter 3, verse 24, she found a name that translated into “Belonging to God” – La’el.

Loyetta Collins took her son home and did her best to raise La’el into a God-fearing man.

The rule in her house was that neither La’el, the middle of five children who all carry Biblical names, nor his siblings would disrespect her or any other authority figure. They would have to go to church regularly and school would be the center of their universe. When they weren’t in school there would be plenty of activities to keep them off the streets.

The mother can remember she only had to take a rod to La’el once as he was growing into a 6-4, 305-pound man who would be one of the top college offensive linemen in the country across town at LSU.

“He was 15 or 16 at the time,” Loyetta Collins recalled. “We were sitting in the living room, I told him something and he answered me in a way I did not like.”

She checked to make sure she had heard right.

“Did you just talk back to me?” the mother demanded. The son, who was working his way to being the No. 1 high school football recruit in the state, shrugged. Mother went for her broom. La’el ran. But he could not escape her wrath.

“I hit him across the shoulders,” Loyetta Collns said. “The broom snapped in half.”

She has never regretted the moment.

“You should know I have never been one to believe in sparing the rod,” she declared.

Loyetta Collins’ way appears to have worked in the battle-scarred north Baton Rouge neighborhood known as “C.C. Lockdown.” She raised her children there in a house on Cedar Avenue. Her reputation was such that when parents of seemingly incorrigible children reached their wits’ ends, they often boarded them at Miss Collins’ house so they might be like her kids.

“I bunked them and watched over them all,” she said.

But that didn’t pay the rent.

For money, Loyetta Collins often worked multiple jobs. At times she worked for the local school district, offering instruction to parents with pre-school children. She delivered pizzas for extra money until she was injured in a car accident. At the time, she was five months pregnant with her daughter Leah, now 16. When Hurricane Katrina hit she loaded up her truck and transported roofing shingles around Louisiana.

And there was a time when Loyetta Collins left for work, it was to drive 12 miles east to San Gabriel where she served as a guard at a multi-security level men’s prison in the state penal system. Sometimes she manned a tower overlooking the yard. Other times, she opened sliding bars and closed them with definitive thuds. She reports she never had an incident. She credits the respect she showed for the inmates for that blessing.

Meanwhile, La’el’s father, David Phillips, was serving time in the maximum security Louisiana state penitentiary in Angola, also known as “The Dungeon.” He was forced to leave when La’el was 2. There had been a fight. A man died. The father was locked away.

The father was released late last year. Son, who sparingly visited Angola, about a one hour drive from Baton Rouge, has yet to build a relationship with him.

The son’s head falls when he talks about his father. The words come haltingly. It’s a stark contrast to a discussion about his mother.

“If you want to know about me, it’s better to ask me about my mother,” said La’el Collins, a Cowboys rookie dwarfing a desk in a meeting room inside the team’s Valley Ranch headquarters after a morning of lifting weights. “My father was incarcerated. She raised me. I grew up against all odds in a neighborhood where a lot of kids are either dead or in jail.”

In at least one rap song about the neighborhood, the “C’s” in “C.C. Lockdown” refer to “Cocaine City.”

“My mother struggled and controlled us to make sure me, my brother and my sisters made it out, ” he said.

‘A feeling I never felt before’

Former LSU offensive lineman La'el Collins speaks to the media during a press conference to introduce him as a member of the Dallas Cowboys at Cowboys headquarters in Irving, Texas Thursday May 7, 2015. (Andy Jacobsohn/The Dallas Morning News) (Andy Jacobsohn / Staff Photographer)

Ironically, it was the same Louisiana criminal justice system that helped his mother feed him and locked away his father that delivered Collins to the Cowboys.

By now, you probably have heard the story. Collins had been projected to be a first-round choice in the NFL draft held on the final day of April in Chicago. It was predicted that he could be among the first 15 players drafted. He might have been the first offensive lineman taken.

“I was at the finish line,” Collins said.

Collins said he was sitting in the airport in Atlanta talking to his agent and waiting for an airplane to whisk them to the Chicago draft site when he first heard the words “it’s about to hit.”

By the time he got off the plane in Chicago he said he was “surrounded by chaos.” The media had picked up the news about the murder.

“I had a feeling I never felt before,” he said.

There was a dead 29-year-old woman, who had been shot and killed in Baton Rouge. She had been eight months pregnant. Her baby son, delivered alive, had died, too.

The Baton Rouge police wanted to talk to Collins, who once dated the dead woman.

NFL teams saw a giant red flag. They no longer wanted to risk a draft choice on La’el Collins.

On the first day of the draft, Collins was no longer in Chicago. He was back in Baton Rouge for a privately administered lie detector test. He passed.

But so did NFL teams. He was not drafted.

Collins met with police. He took a paternity test. He passed.

Less than a week after he had been bypassed in the draft, Collins was no longer linked to the murder. He remained a free man, free to sign with any NFL team of his choice.

But that freedom came with a steep price. In the slotted, salary capped world of NFL rookies, he would have to sign for millions less than he would have earned as a high draft choice.

He eventually signed with the Cowboys for three years and a guaranteed $1.65 million, which can only be considered chump change in the high-dollar world of professional sports.

“The situation brought me to my knees,” Collins said in the Cowboys meeting room. “I was asking God, ‘Why? I don’t know what this is about but I know you have a plan for me. You are testing my faith.’ ”

‘I know who my son is’

A family portrait for new Cowboys player La'el Collins. Back row: La'el, sister Loruhamah and brother David. Front row: Sister Lahairoi, mother Loyetta and sister Leah. (Collins family / Collins family)

Loyetta (loy-EEE-ta) Collins said she didn't have to ask La'el about any links to the dead woman and the baby.

“Never had to,” she said. “I never lost a minute of sleep. I know who my son is. I know who we are … I’ve had my challenges but God has always showed me the way.”

To ensure young La’el didn’t fall in with the wrong crowd while growing up, Loyetta’s business was to make sure he always remained busy. He played football and baseball. She even pushed him to take up golf so he could play with his uncles. Then there was the Boy Scouts, the Boys and Girls Club and church at Jehovah-Jireh (God Will Provide) Ministries.

She saw to it that both of La’el’s grandfathers and uncles were there to serve as male role models. Cousin Marcus Spears, who played eight seasons of offensive tackle in the NFL for the Chicago Bears, Kansas City Chiefs and Houston Texans before retiring in 2004, also helped. Marcus Spears, who played defensive line for the Cowboys and Baltimore Ravens, is a more distant relative. Both are from Baton Rouge as well.

And there were his youth league coaches.

John Mims, who coached Collins on a South Baton Rouge Rams youth football team for 13-year-olds, still talks to his former player once a week. The coach simply calls him “El” like so many do in Louisiana.

The Rams played one game at the Superdome, home of the New Orleans Saints. Collins was so impressive that one of the Saints players watching asked if the NFL team could sign him up. He was kidding. But quarterback Drew Brees wasn’t when he predicted to Mims that La’el would one day play in the NFL.

“For La’el to come from where he comes from to where he is, is a testament to the kid and his mother,” Mims said. “She kept his eye on the prize. He was always a special, happy kid. Not all my players continue to keep in touch. He always has.”

When the time came for La’el to attend high school, Loyetta Collins insisted he attend Redemptorist, a Catholic school. That meant a dress code and stricter discipline than her other children experienced in public schools.

“I just knew they would be tougher on him and watch over him,” she said. “I didn’t want him to fall through the cracks.”

As the top-rated recruit in the Louisiana high school class of 2011, Collins had his pick of colleges. He chose LSU over Auburn, Florida, Florida State, Tennessee and Oklahoma State.

He was not looking for an escape. LSU was a 15-minute drive from home.

“It made it easier for my family to come to games,” he said.

Loyetta attended games and kept a watchful eye on her son on and off the field.

When Collins’ LSU roommate Trai Turner, now a guard with the Carolina Panthers, had “King of Kings” tattooed on his belly, he encouraged Collins to do something similar.

Collins declined. He knew his mother wouldn’t approve of “branding.” La’el remains tattoo free with no plans to experiment.

“It’s an abomination to put a tattoo on the Lord’s work,” Loyetta Collins said. “I’ve told him if he did it I would put a brand on his brand.”

At LSU, La’el Collins was a team captain and “a model citizen who was a great representative of the program,” said Michael Bonnette, an associate athletic director at the school.

He was among the first players the school selected to represent the program in the local community.

“He did whatever we asked and more on his own,” Bonnette said. “Whatever you see with him is what you get.”

La’el Collins is not concerned with the money he lost in the draft.

“If I got $20 million I couldn’t spend it in four years,” he said. “There will be other contracts down the line.”

La’el said he plans to return to LSU and get his degree. Loyetta Collins hopes it will be next summer. But it sounds like more of a directive. That’s when La’el’s younger brother by 14 months, David, who throws the hammer on the LSU track team, plans to graduate.

“The only thing that will prevent him from graduating is injury or death,” she said. “And I ain’t dying.”

About to turn 51 on the day La’el turns 22, Loyetta said she is working toward her bachelor’s degree at Baton Rouge’s Southern University.

For now, Loyetta Collins works as a security guard at a local casino. She’s doing what she always has.

“If I see someone drowning,” she said, “I save them.”

While La’el said he gives all glory to God, he knows who should share it on earth.

“When I was growing up, my mother taught me how to grind, how to work hard,” La’el Collins said. “Sometimes she’d leave the house before I’d wake up and come back after I went to sleep.

“That’s a pretty good example for a son to see.”'

IN THE KNOW

Pronunciation: Lah-EL.

College: LSU

LSU position: Left tackle, left guard

Cowboys projection: Left guard, right tackle

Ht., Wt.: 6-4, 305 Age: 21

Hometown: Baton Rouge, La.

Siblings: Sisters Loruhamah (31); Lahairoi, (27), Leah, (16); Brother David (20)

On the field: Started all 13 games at left guard for LSU as a sophomore. He then started 26 games at left tackle his junior and senior seasons. ... He was named the SEC's top offensive lineman and second-team All-America by The Associated Press as a senior. ... Was eligible for 2014 NFL draft in which he had been projected a second- or third-round pick but opted to stay in school … Could have been guaranteed in the neighborhood of $10 million if he had been a first-round pick this year and received a four-year contract with a fifth-year option. The advantage of being an undrafted free agent is he can renegotiate his contract after two seasons.