A few loose ends from that night remain to be tied. For one thing, the Mahoning County coroner has yet to release the results of his autopsy (although the weakness in Aljahmi’s right leg that night could be suggestive of a left hemispheric brain bleed). This is why Bernie Profato, the Ohio Athletic Commission’s director, has not formally closed the case, although he says his own inquiry found no lapses of protocol by the commission he oversees.

Profato is also haunted by the memory of this polite young man, such a model of respect at the weigh-in. But the inherent dangers are made plain in the contracts signed by boxers, including these two first-time pros, Taylor and Aljahmi.

“You’re entering a sport where you could be seriously hurt or injured,” Profato says. “They know that. That’s just the nature of the sport.”

A childhood friend of Loew’s comes through the boxing club’s door: Ray Mancini, the onetime lightweight world champion, known in Youngstown and far beyond as Boom Boom. Unfairly, he is also known for one fight: Duk-koo Kim, Las Vegas, 1982.

Mancini connected with two hard rights to Kim’s head at the start of the 14th round, sending the tenacious South Korean challenger to the canvas and prompting the referee to declare a technical knockout. Incurring a brain bleed known as a subdural hematoma, Kim lapsed into a coma and died four days later. He was 27.

Mancini was 21.

It took years, but Mancini worked his way through the depression and self-doubt that followed. Even though he eventually forgave himself and made peace with the tragedy, he says, others have shown less grace over the years.

“Hey, Boom Boom,” he mimics. “Hey, man, let me ask you something. What’s it like to kill somebody in the ring? I mean, what’s it like to see someone go down and never get up?”