I ran back outside and downstairs to call 911 as our phone wasn’t connected at the time. I didn’t really know what to say and I think the operator must have thought it was a prank because she hung up on me. So I called my grandma and told her. After that I just sat on the bottom step until the police and paramedics started pulling up. My grandma arrived shortly after and it gets blurry from there. It will be 26 years on September 26 that this happened. Still no arrests. I feel like everyone in town knows exactly who did it, the same people I’ve been saying for years, but no one is willing to say anything. Mind you her boyfriend was killed in the same way about a year before.
In 2018 I spent a couple of months on crutches, my foot encased in a solid plastic boot for support. On my way back from my physio appointments, I liked to stop at a coffee shop or McDonalds to get something to eat. As you can imagine, being on crutches meant I needed a bit more assistance from staff. Most of them understood this, but not this one lady at the coffee shop.
The various types of sandwich were kept in a customer-facing fridge. You picked it out, and if it was one that needed heating up you handed it over to the person taking your order. There wasn’t enough spare material in the packaging for me to hold it between my fingers and the crutch handle, so I told the woman on the tills which one I wanted, but “sorry, I can’t carry it over here”. She refused to go and fetch it, or ask a staff member nearby to do so. Eventually another customer intervened and passed it to her.
“Stop being lazy and carry your own drink to the table.” Yeah, that’s a brilliant thing to say with your manager in hearing range. The manager that’s now witnessed you refuse two reasonable accommodations to assist a (temporarily) disabled person. The manager that was already pulling the seat out at my usual table so I didn’t have to. She was already gone by the time I finished my drink and toastie, and the free piece of cake I got for dealing with her. She stormed out in a massive huff a few minutes after being told to go to the office.
My “sister” was upset because I got to a particular dish before she did and had the nerve to ask her to hand me a serving spoon to serve myself even though I was on crutches at the time. She fumed all of the way to the table. Erupting after I announced my intention to go to college starting in February. Then I put my baby, who’d finished eating, down in one of those rocking spinning toys. That’s when she exploded. Everything I did was wrong according to her and I shouldn’t be doing xyz (none of which I was doing), yelling all of it.
This happened in Plymouth North Carolina and her name is Sonja Day. You can also look at details of her boyfriend’s murder on the Noth Carolina Innocence Commission website under the Spruill case. My cousin was wrongfully convicted of his murder and after all this time they are finally trying to do something about it. I’ve always been adamant that the same people are responsible for both murders. Sorry for being so long winded. Probably should have made this it’s own answer. So that’s how my mother saved my life. I would like to think that if I stayed home that day I could have saved her some kind of way, but it likely wouldn’t have went that way.