Forty-one years ago today.

My brother Tim’s body was found in a ditch along Gill Road on March 22, 1977, after six long days being held captive, raped and tortured.  I found this poem in a box of documents my Mother had saved.  It must have meant a lot to my Mom, because she saved it and surely it evoked very painful memories.  Andrea, thank you.

I also ran across an email from a dear friend, who passed away this year.  She was the kind of friend who sent me flowers in March, acknowledging the loss of Tim and the sadness of losing a sibling, a loss society generally ignores.  She ended this particular email (discussing a tip the police disregarded back in the day and again in 2011–and frankly, to this day) by saying “It takes a village to raise a child . . . it will take that same village to finally let him rest in peace.  I was part of that village.”  Thank you, Bridget.

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