Delayed Justice

Richard Dana’s mother, Chad McElwee’s mother, Lee Randolph Priester’s mother, Janeane Lusk’s mother…and a host of other parent and family members were there.  And so were those who support them in their grief and loss including–but not limited to–Sgt. Terry McGee of the Grand Rapids Police Department, Chris Cameron of Silent Observer, Anita Droog of Kent County Victim/Witness Unit, Don, our own Melissa.  

And, yes, any threatening weather had already passed and we were left with a hot, steamy summer day in Michigan.  And Penny Lusk was again offering her services to brighten faces, shoulders, arms and hands.

Penny Lusk paints a hand at the Conquerors' picnic.

 

Yes, hot dogs, hamburgers, salads, chips.  A picnic.  A picnic with a distinctive purpose.  And that purpose is to remind themselves that even though the worst thing that can happen, especially to parents, already has happened, there is an affirmation of life and purpose and memory.  The Conquerors’ message:

“In all things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”  Romans 8:37.

Even this.

Will the rain hold off?  A reasonable question today, the third anniversary of the murder of Lee Randolph Priester.  Why would it matter?  Because, not so coincidentally, today is the annual picnic organized by his mother, Carolyn, and others in memory of all those families who are served in some way by Conquerors.  This support group is pretty darned inclusive and is meant to be of help to the families of murder victims.  The very fact that we need such a group is wrenchingly sad, but thank God it’s there.  The group’s meetings offer a safe place where tears can flow, where families can get suggestions on ways to move through the aftermath of violence, where people can ask “WHY?”  And the picnic is a time of fellowship.

I think of last year’s event…especially of Penny Lusk taking such care painting faces of young children.  They delighted in her attention and the feel of the delicate brushes as they traced vivid flowers and stars and birds on smooth cheeks.  Penny’s daughter Janeane was murdered March 27, 2008.  Janeane’s murderer, Sid Terrell Jones, was convicted July 1, 2009, a little more than a year ago.

And it’s not just the families of murder victims who attend.  There are police officers, judges, victim’s advocates, counsellors, and other people who want to add their support.

For the murders that are solved there is some measure of knowing.  For the rest, there is the waiting.  In Lee’s case time may now be working for the investigators.  And they are out there.  Last month the Grand Rapids Police Department canvassed the neighborhood where he was murdered and hung door tags inviting people who knew something to come forward.  Here’s the story from The Grand Rapids Press.  The door hangers are a good idea.  And it only takes one brave soul who will stand against the madness.  We KNOW without a doubt that somebody knows somethin’.

For the picnic?  I’ll be there–but early–as long as weather makes it possible.  If you want to support the Conquerors maybe you’ll join them.  Check their website for details.

Surprising it doesn’t happen more often.  Maybe it does and we just don’t hear about it.

In this case, though, it’s likely to be a three-days’ wonder in Cutlerville.  A large tree falls and in the process of cleaning up, lo and behold! the land owner finds bones tangled in the roots.  Is it a home (farm) burial following an natural or accidental death?  Could it be murder?  Are the remains those of Native Americans?  All kinds of conclusions just waiting to be jumped to.  We know better than that, but we do it anyway.  At first examination it might seem to be just a burial.  After all, when we die somebody needs to do something with our bodies; can’t just leave ’em laying about.  So, mostly during the last couple hundred years we’ve buried our dead.  And sometime they become unburied.  And that gives rise to all manner of speculation.  At the very least we come away with the idea that the repose of the dead has been disturbed.

This story came to my attention courtesy of WGVU’s David Moore, looking at various angles.  He pointed me to the story in The Grand Rapids Press.   It’s likely he’s going to follow up on this, perhaps speaking with someone with expertise in the story of old bones.  I look forward to hearing and reading what he comes up with.

And when the story dies down (so to speak) what then for those old bones?  Perhaps the body’s identity will be known and (s)he will lie in a marked grave.  And then?

Requiascat in pacem.  For a long, long time.

Saturday noontime I spent with a delightful group of writers in Grand Rapids.  And by delightful I do not mean literary lightweights in any sense of the word.  They are hardworking and–for many of them–frequently published authors.  Their genre for at least THIS part of their writing work is Romance (many of them do other writing work, too).  So, Romance writers.  Wow!  I came away with an education and I had to confess that while it would be a sin to be jealous of their successes I could feel them in the room.  What would it be like to have 20 books to my name?  Pretty cool, I’m guessing.

I was a little intimidated at first but won over by their generosity of spirit and their interest in Delayed Justice.  They explained that they often asked police officers, investigators, even the forensic pathologist Dr. Stephen Cohl.  So, I was in good company of being on a list of that caliber…but I explained that while my master’s degree was in journalism, my doctorate was in English…creative writing to be exact.  There was in my mind the idea tucked far back that I was supposed to be doing what they have been doing, but perhaps in a different genre.

And I have been.  Writing fiction, that is.  But not getting published. In fact, not even sending stuff off.  Just writing and holding.

I suppose I’ve slipped back into the idea is that I should do only one thing.  Either this or that.  Where does that come from?  Who says so?  Didn’t I tell students time and again that they should use all the talents they have, even if they’re small talents?  “You have been given talents for a reason,” I’d say.  “Part of your task is to find the right way to combine them.  But never, never, never discard them.”  I realize it was good advice.  So I’ve been searching for ways to combine my interests for some time.  That’s the challenge.  Certainly my interest in music informs my film making.  Fiction writing informs essays and journalism.  Somehow it all comes together and makes a kind of sense.  I can’t do what they do, but I can do what I do.

The gathering of writers was a reminder.  Talent is where you find it.  There is a lot of  it out there.  And great talent can come from anywhere, not just the graduate school.  Finally, the world is waiting for the next good idea.

I give thanks for those reminders, the new insights about writing groups, and I especially  give thanks for encountering writers who take such great joy in their work.  That’s what we’re supposed to do!

The 1976 murder of Kathryn Darling now has a charged suspect, Russell Vane.  And police are trying to tie him to the 1979 murder of Diane Holloway.  Oh, these Grand Rapids Press stories are more than passing interesting.  Wonderful and amazing that at long last there are some answers to the kinds of questions that cry out for answers.

And thanks to the officers who have labored unceasingly to find those answers.  We know it takes work, work, and more work, but it also requires cooperation…people having the courage and willingness to speak about what they know.

Think what might happen if everyone who knew the unuttered answer–the secret–to an open murder came forward.  Mmmm-mmm.  What a day that would be!  It would be our Independence Day from the tyranny of homicide.  Just a thought.