Gone But Not Forgotten
My godparents, Spencer and Alice, knew me before I was born. My parents used their babysitting services to look after my older sister when I was born, and then both of us when our younger brother was born. Legend has it that changing my diapers was the cause of a new clause in their babysitting contract: no diaper changing. Ever.
It’s odd that my parents, who were non-believers except for shopping (Mom) and science (Dad) would choose spiritual guardians for their children. Possibly, they were more interested in the legal guardianship that Spence and Alice would take on if Mom and Dad predeceased us.
As you know, this didn’t happen. Not only are my parents gone, but my godfather, he of the infectious laugh and the encyclopedia of mind and spirit, predeceased them. So much for that plan. But my godparents, who were childless, were part of the family.
I knew that Alice was an only child, since her brother Carl had been killed years ago. I understood that he had been mugged for his tips when leaving the diner where he worked in exotic Florida. It turns out that he was murdered in the same area of Florida where I spent last winter, and his murder is the oldest unsolved murder in the county.
A dedicated reporter went to incredible lengths to research the 50 year old case, and my godmother and the world learned that her brother was the victim of a hate crime. Read about it here. Warning: it’s truly tragic, a word which is overused in my opinion, but which fits all too well in this case.
A final word on the story from my godmother:
“Last Sunday, when the story was printed, was Mike’s [the reporter's] day off. He took a vase of flowers, a copy of the newspaper in which it was the lead, front-page story, and then continued on two inside pages, and drove 50 miles to my brother’s grave in a military cemetery. He placed all this at Carl’s headstone, took pictures, and thanked Carl for helping him write the story. Then, because it is a military cemetery, he had to pick his offerings up from the ground and take them away, as such things are not permitted to remain on government property. Then he went home, still on his day off, processed the pictures and sent them to me by email.”
That’s a an amazing story. It would make a great film.
If you’re still looking for a subject…and Florida is lovely this time of year!
Wow, it does sound like a movie, especially after having just seen Capote. “Tragic” certainly fits the bill. And ‘Harvetta’?although she sounds kind of nasty, it’s a great name.
Did you just find out about this recently when the reporter started writing about the story? Wow, that’s so amazingly sad. Your family, blood or otherwise, is full of odd and interesting stories.
Yes – my godmother and I had no idea what really happened until the reporter started digging. We both got sanitized versions, I guess. It’s so sad that Carl never had a chance. Hopefully this story can help others.
Harvetta is a cool name – kind of like those noir vixens named Velma and things like that. Capote was a BRILLIANT movie. Just brilliant.
The reporter seems like a cool guy. It’s so much better to have the story told, isn’t it?