AUNT LINDA

 

 

 



 

I can remember it like it was yesterday, even though it happened 12 years ago. This is my first time revisiting this tragic moment in my life. Personally I rarely talk about it because I’m still in denial. My Aunt Linda was my second mother. In many ways she was my best friend, and my biggest supporter. March 23rd 2000 at 10:33pm I remember waking up to the horrific news. At the tender age of 10 I had an early bedtime so I was sound asleep. Something woke me up, and until this day I believe it was an evil spirit.

 

Growing up as a basketball fan I always had espn on my 17 inch television. The Kings vs. the Jazz game was on. As I woke up to my small cube shaped room I remember asking myself, what’s the weather for tomorrow? Tomorrow was in fact a big day. My class was going on a trip to ''The Empire State Building". Maybe the excitement of the trip uncharacteristically woke me up that rainy Wednesday night in March. As I turned to Ny1 I remember seeing an african-american male reporter right outside Aunt Linda’s building. I remember getting so excited. He stood adjacent to the playground that I often played on when I visited Auntie. Visuals popped up in my head of Aunt Linda's failed attempt to teach me how to ride a bike. Heck she probably didn’t know how to ride one herself. It didn’t matter because most importantly we had fun together. Ny1 then reported a murder of an African American female in the park hill houses in Staten Island. All of my excitement rapidly diminished. They then showed a picture of my Aunt Linda’s Fire escape where she was murdered. The image they showed of Auntie hit me extremely hard. Was this reality or am I jus hallucinating. I remember checking to see if I was really awake. This had to be a bad dream. It just had to be. My heart wouldn’t stop racing, and I took a deep breath. As the host at the news desk moved on to the next story I remember just seeing her lips move, but I couldn’t hear anything. Tears ran down my cheek as I ran into the living room to find my mom and dad. They were poised and firm as ever like nothing happened. They broke the news to me even though they saw me crying. Till this day I don’t even know if my parents knew that I heard the tragic news on the television.

 

 

My whole family jumped in the car en route to Staten Island to investigate the scene. Soon as we hit the Verrazano Bridge my mother broke down. Now I understand the saying that it’s nothing worse than seeing your mother cry. Her only sister life has been taking away, and it was nothing we can do about it. The tragedy was too overwhelming for all of us as we all wept the rest of the ride. Usually when we came to Staten Island as a family it was the best of times. Majority of the time it was a family event, and we were all on cloud nine. Al green, Marvin Gaye or Michael Jackson was playing as we all sung and pre gamed for the family’s activities. This ride was so surreal because this ride too Staten Island wasn’t so pleasant. There wasn’t any music playing, and instead of singing to the same rhythm we cried in unison. Soon as we arrived to Aunt Linda's apartment the scene was reminiscent of a movie out of Hollywood. Cops were all over the place, and yellow tape blocked everything off.

 

 

As we got off the elevator on Aunties floor the smell was unbearable. In my 23 year life I have never smelled anything so foul. My mother held my hand and explained to me the stench was in fact Aunt Linda’s body. She was missing for around a week, and no one knew where to find her. She was killed in her apartment, and her roommate was murdered as well. The detectives explained the tragic events to my mother as I stood in shock. Auntie was killed on the fire escape by the murderers. She tried to escape but to no avail. Later on we found out my aunt roommate owed a drug dealer some money. The drug dealer entered the apartment killed the roommate, and then went to the back room to kill my aunt. She was a witness so he decided to stab her to death. Blood tracks show that my auntie got out the window and ran on the fire escape to get away from the killer. He just kept on stabbing her until she died. Life is very harsh, and some things you will never come to grips with. My life will never be the same. Nothing fazes me any more after seeing such a tragic event. I miss her dearly. R.I.P. to my Auntie, best friend, idol Linda Coleman.  I will forever be your Jello. That was her nickname for me.