Quenette It was December 20th, 1976; one of the coldest nights in Alabama’s history. The phone was ringing again. Whoever was calling was being extremely persistent. What great timing. Now that I’m busy, everyone wants my attention! But no, I’m just trying to wrap Christmas presents for all of the family so I can actually be ahead and enjoy the holiday spirit for once. I sighed to myself. Maybe I could just let it ring one more time… “Edward, will you please pick up the phone so they’ll stop calling?” I was just finishing wrapping up my last present for the night. “Edward! Why aren’t you answering me?” Smoothing the piece of tape onto the wrapping paper, I waited for his response. Nothing. Edward suddenly peeked his head around the corner. His face was filled with worry; his eyes were wet with tears. My attitude lessened. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Qu-qu…” He stuttered. “It’s Quenette.” My heart instantly dropped. “What about Quenette?” I stammered. I jumped up from my seat in the living room. “Who is on the phone?” “It’s Ramsey”, he cried. “They can’t find her.” “I thought they were still at the college! What do you mean by they can’t find her?” “She has not come back from the grocery store for hours. He drove there to check on her. The car was gone.” A …show more content…
My husband, children, and I sat by the tree drinking eggnog. After countless years of tears, we were beginning to smile. We still missed the presence of Quenette, and we always will. We will never stop missing her. Yet, we found joy in the fact that we had finally received justice for our family and beloved daughter. Not only that, but we had begun to open doors for numerous victims and loved ones who are pained with the grievances similar to what we have experienced. Now, they have rights that they did not have before. I find ease in knowing that I did not dedicate my life to this movement in vain. A fatal errand had led to
Jeanne de Jussie, a dedicated Catholic nun, recorded events that took place in Geneva during the Reformation as the official chronicler for the Saint Clare convent. Although littered with biases, Jeanne de Jussie’s experiences reflect broader trends during the Reformation; therefore, The Short Chronicle is a valid source and not merely a personal attack against the Protestants. Her experiences and beliefs, including those concerning celibacy, reflected those of many members of the Catholic Church during the Reformation. Also, her categorization of Protestants as ‘heretics’ was consistent with the practices of the Catholic Church. Although biased, her fears about Protestant views on celibacy and marriage were legitimate and consistent with
As the incident wasn’t over, there were many photographers taken photos; however, there was only one photo that was sad when everyone first saw the photo. The photo was taken by the Brown Brothers, and was remembered in the past and even today (Todd 11). They were sad that there were dead bodies on the ground. There were policemen and other people standing near the bodies of victims on the Green Street sidewalk in the photo. Most of the victims were w...
In Christmas 1910, Robert Butler uses plot and character to reflect on the setting of the short story. The setting takes place in her third Christmas in the west river country, which is described as a bad, hopeless and depressing place. There is nothing there but flat lands everywhere. There is nothing better for Abigail to do to make her life better there, so she just has to do what her parents do. The areas around them are even desolated. Due to droughts, it makes South Dakota lonely and go through some hard times. The winter makes it hard for people to interact with other people. Abigail needs her own character, she wants attention from people that are not her family. The weather where they live is not your typical ideal weather, Abigail
The Atlanta missing and murdered children case is a series of murder cases which took place in Atlanta, Georgia between the periods of 1979-1981 during which 29 African- American children were murdered as well as young adults. The victims, mostly black Americans were found asphyxiated; some were believed to have been sexually abused. This terrifying string of murders left the city of Atlanta astonished and on high alert. Newspapers and TV reports about the case rattled the nation and reminded parents to keep a close eye over their children. Green ribbons, “symbolizing life” and green-lettered buttons reading, “SAVE THE CHILDREN,” appeared everywhere. Celebrities like Frank Sinatra, Muhammad Ali, James Baldwin, and Burt Reynolds came from all over the country to show support and donate money. President Ronald Reagan enabled a $1.5 million grants to help fund the investigation. Over the three years when victims started disappearing and later found murdered, the police questioned suspects without success. With leads in the case dwindling and no arrest in sight, Atlanta mayor Maynard Jackson enforced a 7pm curfew on the city of Atlanta’s children. The murderer at that time was referred to as “the child killer”. Most people believed the killings were conducted by racial hate groups such as the KKK. It was not until 21 June 1981 when a 23 year old, black man was charged for the first degree murder of two adults, 27 year old Nathaniel Cater and 22 year old Jimmy Ray Payne. Wayne B Williams was tried and sentenced to life imprisonment as he was also linked to the murder of the other victims (Nickell and Fischer 1999). The evidence against him was strong and it was used to link him to be the suspected perpetrator of the other At...
There will be an appearance of an investigation, in which those involved will be relieved of all culpability in Sandra’s death. At the end of the day, no one will be held accountable. The reason that I am reaching out through this article is that we, as a race of people, must be willing to step out of our comfort zones and change the status quo. Our natural proclivity will be to protest and sign petitions; however, without economic power to underwrite those petitions and protests, they will have no power — making them tantamount to a collective temper
... imagines the suffering of the lynching and its impact on them as “Now I am dry bones and my face a stony skull” (line 30), thus recognizing the true potential of sympathy and empathy as far as the human experience and emotions are concerned.
She heard a car coming up thru the driveway, a car she did not recall at the moment. “It w...
“I don’t know. But I bet they’re looking for us. We picked up their girls,” I replied.
“Well, that’s why I’m here,” I said. “I’m kind of hoping to prevent that. I need to find her and get her the hell out of Iowa. Do any of you know where she is?”
her off to school. She tells him that he should "keep a strict eye on her,
Clairee was the perfect seller to his pitch. Even he almost believed it was true when that feigned look of horror marred her face once she tainted her own visage with blood. The lurch act came as a surprise. But then, they should've been ready to play any role the circumstances put them into, and as expected, she aced the role quite brilliantly. There's going to be stories about this ... If they make it out in one piece.
There is something undeniably special about Christmas. From the abundance of peppermint to the Island of Lost Toys, this season can put a skip in the step of even the nastiest Scrooge. Who could oppose setting up lights of red and green, or picking out the perfect tree, pruned and green? In the meantime, creamy eggnog, sprinkled with flakes of graham cracker and nutmeg returns for a standing ovation after Thanksgiving. I remember writing letters addressed to the North Pole, made credible with backwards “-E”s. The foul taste of glue would linger on my tongue as I rushed into the icy wonderland with glee to personally hand the mailman my message, ensuring safe delivery. Watching endless Christmas specials, constantly vacuuming pine needles off the rug, and writing wish lists are only some of the activities that fill these days of merry festivities. The greatest memories consist of the jovial music, the anticipated snowfall, and the benevolent spirits.
“Well staring at the door is not going to help is it” one girl stated.
“So are they done yet?” I asked, squeezing her hand tightly. “When will I be able to see him again? Is he in a coma? When will he wake up?” I knew my voice was trembling. Yet, I couldn’t help controlling it.