While Craig and Doug lost their lives by very questionable circumstances, I
will only remember them when they were alive. Craig, I remember you in
Kindergarten. You gave me a ring from a Cracker Jacks box and you held my
hand and said we were married. And you let me eat all the peanuts! I
remember we ate lunch together at United Elementary, we sat with Jodi, whose
blue-rimmed glasses kept falling off her face. We were five.
I remember when I was in seventh grade and I broke my arm roller-skating. You
drew on my cast, a picture of a daisy, at least I think it was supposed to be
a flower. It looked more like a pair of socks. No one said you could draw!
We were thirteen.
Then we were trying to get through High School. Remember Gary? I Remember
standing with you and DJB and Todd outside the doors to the school, waiting
for them to open for another day of useless lessons from Paserb on the social
ramifications of non-conformity? (The Norm I think it was called)
Graduation day! You looked very smart in your United Royal Blue grad gown. I
have photos of the gang....we were eighteen!
Then college took me to another world, of which when we met, it was always
chaotic. But we were twenty.
Leslie was shocked at the knowledge you were gunned down. I remember the
newscast. Pulled over for failing to put on your turn signal? Such a stiff
penalty for a petty crime. Did they never hear of the "Warning" in Boise?
How cruel that your life was ripped from you that night. And why your
brother? What really happened there? I will never doubt the fault was yours,
Craig. My memories of you are of a laughing, bright-blue-eyed little dark-
haired boy. Who could have predicted that the searing heat of bullets would
tear the life from your body and drop you on unfamiliar soil. And if you
were still conscious before your eyes closed the final time, did you know they
killed your little brother too? Did you see the many bullets rip into his
flesh. Did you hear him plead for help from people that did not care? The
smell of blood and death, your own? What happened there?
When I went back home, last year, DJB took me to see your graves. There were
no markers there. We put some flowers there. Such a small token of
remembrance for a friend I knew since I was a baby. I looked at the ground,
holding the remains of your brother and you. I am thirty, you will forever be
29.
My heart breaks for your parents. Their purpose on this earth was to create
you and Doug. As it was written in the Bible. They did their duty by God,
and raised you both to believe in liberty and truth. So, now they are alone.
What will they do for the rest of their lives? Where are their grandchildren?
While will love them as the age? I suppose there will never be another family
photo. I think all they can do is live with your memories. What else is
there for them?
Perhaps truth will yet free them from this nightmare. Maybe their closure
will come from the confessions of someone that participated in the
...slaughter. Maybe right now, there are those that want to stop hiding
behind phrases like "probable cause" and "endangerment" and fess-up the
reality that someone lost control. Someone, someday, however bleak and sorry
the situation looks, will come forward to tell us what happened that night, in
September.
It won't bring you back, Craig. It won't replace the time that was stolen.
But it might give the rest of us some faith in the law. And it might save
their souls.
To err is human, to forgive is divine. Maybe someday, we will be able to
forgive.
Julie - UHS '86
