South Carolina, meet your next star: David L. Rowell leaves Marion for movie debut

When we first meet Wesley Saxon, he’s apologetic. His meeting ran late by two minutes but, ever the gentleman, he brought his date a single rose to make up for it.

She, Elle Moore (played by Joslyn Y. Hall), is less than impressed.

But he’s “Maryland’s most eligible bachelor,” “Mr. Cool,” and seems to be perpetually dressed in either an impeccable suit or the sharpest turtleneck-blazer combo you’ve ever seen.

Maybe it’s Saxon’s manners, so insistent on being the gentleman that he eventually cracks Moore’s shell. Maybe it’s his shy eyes and warm smile that eventually charms her. Or maybe she’s just feeling the Christmas spirit.

Whatever it is, one thing is clear: David L. Rowell, who plays Saxon, is the perfect charmer for the role.

Born and raised in Marion, Rowell, 27, made his silver screen debut over the holidays with “Christmas in Carolina,” a seasonal film about winning over Hall’s heart and bringing her home to — you guessed it — South Carolina to meet mom and Uncle Ryan, played by “Family Matters” stars Kellie Shanygne Williams and Terrence Shingler.

Now, as Rowell moves on from his Christmas debut, he’s set to star in the television series “Com-pli-cat-ed,” set in Greenville. As the young actor’s career progresses, he’s making a name for himself and South Carolina at the same time.

Rowell’s story so far is one marked by inflection points, key moments where he reached a fork in the road and was then pushed or pulled in one direction that drastically altered his life. Raised by a single mom and other family, he grew up with his father largely absent, and experienced homelessness for a period of time before his career began taking off. But other forces in his life intervened, and, whether they meant to or not, pushed him closer to the spotlight. Rowell said he grew up dreaming of becoming an entertainer, someone who could put a smile on someone’s face on their worst day. He grew up watching “Oprah,” “Soul Food” and other Black staples, willing himself into a career making people feel good.

“This is history for my town, for the Pee Dee, to see somebody come out and make it on the big screen,” he said recently. “This is iconic. This is now showing people that, ‘Dude, you guys can do this too.’ And it’s movement for us. It’s inspiration for us.”

Born to entertain

Growing up, Rowell was raised by his mother, an OBGYN nurse, his aunt and his grandma. His father, a Marine, wasn’t around, and lived in New Jersey, Rowell’s uncle, Chris Rowell said, in part because he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder from his time in the military. Still, Rowell grew up in a loving household, and his family made sure he knew he was valued and cherished, he said. When his family from New Jersey would visit South Carolina, his uncle said, they would try to get there as fast as possible.

“It was like a race to see who could get down there first because whoever got there first would pick him up at his mom’s house,” Chris Rowell said. “Him seeing everybody fight over him shaped and molded him to see that his family really loved him and that continued into his teenage years.”

When his family wasn’t loving on him, Rowell, from a young age, found solace in television and movies. In the 1997 classic “Soul Food,” Rowell said he was moved by 11-year-old Ahmad (Brandon Hammond), and said he saw himself in the character who works to bring his family together in the movie.

He discovered Will Smith at a young age, too, along with Oprah and R&B performers like Boyz 2 Men, Sisqó from Dru Hill and Omarion from B2K. He saw himself in those entertainers, he said, and wanted to be like them. His mom was heavily invested in her work, often bringing home the energy of a great day, or heartbreaking day, of helping deliver children. On the days when his mom, or other family, was down, he saw himself as a joy-bringer, wanting to make them smile on bad days.

“You being the listening ear, you just putting a smile on your face, and rubbing off whatever positive energy you have, it does something for me,” Rowell said. “It’s fulfilling for me to see others feel good about themselves, to feel good through my energy and my performances of whatever I’m doing to just enhance their energy.”

Rowell’s uncle intervenes

But by the time he got to high school, Rowell’s tendencies as an entertainer led him to both the basketball court and to acting out as the class clown. He was skilled on the court, and later scored an NBA tryout. He was well liked and ran with a big group of friends. But his family worried about him running with the wrong crowd, Chris Rowell said.

One high school friend, Rowell’s uncle said, was beginning to experiment with drugs. Another stole a car. That, plus Rowell was having some problems with a teacher his sophomore year. So Chris Rowell showed up to school, and sat in the back of one of Rowell’s classes to observe, he said.

Chris Rowell waited in the back of the room in one of his nephew’s classes that day, waiting for him to walk in.

“He’s talking, cracking jokes, he’s the class clown, passing notes,” Chris Rowell said. “One of the girls taps him on the shoulder and he turns around and looks at me and I’m telling you he was so straight-laced the rest of the day.”

Rowell said his uncle’s involvement in his life was critical. He was at a crossroads: He could follow his friends, or follow his own path, either of which could have their own consequences. His uncle urged him to follow his own path. His uncle, teaching him about how to move through life in South Carolina, and in America, as a Black man, changed him, he said, and put his brain “in hybrid mode.”

“And all of a sudden, he just opened my eyes to what things really were, he broke things down. He was very patient with me,” Rowell said. “He was very understanding. And he was a listener. And he’s allowed me to make mistakes. But he would not allow me to fall, which is a big difference. He allowed me to make mistakes, but he wasn’t gonna let me fall, he was always there.”

From basketball to LoCash

For a time, Rowell felt like he was destined to be an NBA star, starting on Marion High School’s team several years straight and earning a scholarship to play at Division II Ohio Valley University upon graduation. The school wasn’t a good fit, though, and he transferred to Queens University of Charlotte, another Division II school. But the transfer was messy, and the NCAA delayed in transferring his paperwork. By the time that was sorted out, basketball was “getting completely stale” he said, and he was beginning to pursue other career options.

“So there’s no scholarship, so I have to figure stuff out,” he said. “I gotta start thinking about what I want to do with my career. Not only just broadcast, I have to make myself appealing.”

Through a friend, whose dad happened to be NFL Hall of Famer Ray Lewis, Rowell scored an interview with the linebacker and submitted the recording as part of an application to the Ryan Seacrest internship program that operated at the Levine Children’s Hospital in Charlotte. That program places college students at “Seacrest Studios” in children’s hospitals around the country where interns study and practice radio and television broadcasting and make content for the children to enjoy during their stays. Rowell got accepted into the program, and felt like he was set.

But life was far from perfect. While he was working at the internship, he lost his scholarship, Rowell said. He became homeless. He was no longer able to live on campus, and his wages from a job at Abercrombie & Fitch weren’t enough to cover rent. He was ashamed, he said, and would sleep in his truck in the parking lot at the children’s hospital, pinning sheets over the windows so no one would see him sleeping there at night.

But then, Rowell met the country band LoCash.

Through the Ryan Seacrest internship, students interview celebrities and broadcast their conversations, and sometimes the celebrity’s performances, for the children. Rowell was selected to interview Chris Lucas and Preston Brust from the band, and immediately hit it off with the duo.

“I read people for a living,” Lucas said recently. “(Rowell) had an aura around him, you just wanted to be around this kid.”

Lucas said he and Brust had been looking for extra help to take on tour with them, someone who could manage merchandise sales and act as a personal assistant when they needed one. Rowell was everything they were looking for, Lucas said.

“After that day, me and my brother went to the bus, we were like, ‘We have to hire this kid,’” Lucas said. “I just wanted to help him. You want to help this kid, you want to be around him.”

It was a crucial moment for Rowell, one where his life forked yet again. He could have continued to struggle, but Lucas intervened. He spent the next three years on tour with the band.

“I was down on my luck, and I wasn’t gonna expose that. But something about my energy, and something about his energy, he just knew,” Rowell said of Lucas. “He might not have not known all the details, but he picked me up, he polished me off, he gave me some game.”

From country music to silver screen

Rowell’s first big break came while on the road with LoCash. The duo was in Las Vegas to film a music video for their single “Ring on Every Finger,” which follows the wedding parties of a bride and groom as they party for one last night before the marriage. One of the extras for the video couldn’t make it at the last minute, and LoCash was in need of a spare groomsman. Thanks to his “swag” and “pretty boy” looks, Rowell was cast.

“And dude, he turned those cameras on ... and I lost it,” Rowell said, beaming.

In the video, Rowell, though in the background, is beaming. Appearing both shirtless and donning a sleek suit, Rowell looks like a natural. He’s playing second fiddle to the groomsman in the video, but it doesn’t seem like a stretch to imagine him as a main character.

Set on a career in entertainment, he began auditioning for roles and was eventually cast in Christmas in Carolina. He’ll play Jaylon Thomas, a primary love interest, in Showtime Productions’ “Com-pli-cat-ed.”

As he continues making his way into an acting career, Rowell knows he’s on the right path now.

“I have my own vision. God has a different path for me,” Rowell said. “And what I see is not what they see. And I have to follow what I believe in my heart, and what I believe is destined for me.”

This story was originally published January 16, 2021 at 10:00 AM.