It was 19 years ago today that Heather Spencer was taken away from her friends and family. Pray for them as they remember her on a day synonymous with the worst of this world. Posted below is a video produced by one of her friends in her memory and an essay about Heather written by her mother several months after her death.
Today marks the day two months ago that my world, as I knew it, changed forever and I lost my beautiful girl. It doesn't get any easier. My grief follows me and everywhere I go, festive decorations remind me of the upcoming holidays, Heather's favorite time of the year. But instead of shopping for her gifts, I'm shopping for something special to put on her grave. This shouldn't be. She should be here. Up until she was 25 years old when I still lived in Jackson, I would put out "Santa Claus" for her and her brother and fill their stockings. Not a lot, just some things they could wake up to...to keep the fun going and keep our tradition alive. I have videos of every year, getting up in the early morning hours and video-taping them as they walked into the living room, tree lit and Christmas music playing...seeing the sleepy smiles on their faces as they surveyed their gifts. But best of all were the hugs and kisses that we shared. My arms ache for a hug from her.
One of Heather's favorite holiday foods was deviled eggs. I have a photo of her from last year, at her grandmother's, stuffing eggs with a big smile on her face. Several of the eggs would disappear before they ever made it to the table! And gifts...she was such a great gift-giver, so thoughtful, a giver from the heart. After my move way up north, she always seemed to know exactly what I needed. A down stuffed jacket, a big fluffy robe that she said was 'the warmest robe you'll ever wear', and it is. And so many more things she knew were special to me.
I miss her. I miss everything about her. We all do. Not just at holiday time, but every minute of every day. I am thankful for the 28 years I had with her. She helped mold me as well as I did her, growing up together, mother and daughter, learning from each other. I am also thankful for my son, who inspires me and continues to make me proud. Never take what you have with your children for granted. Hug them, kiss them and tell them you love them, every day. Other than our hope of eternal life in Heaven, our children are the true gifts we are given on this earth.
posted by LHF.
George Bell is incarcerated at the East Mississippi Correctional Facility camp support dorm.

8 comments:
George Bell needs a daily ass whipping.
Bless her sweet soul, and bless her family...prayers for them!
Thank you for this. Thank you for covering her story as well as you did and thank you for remembering.
Seems like shortly after this, there was a young lady in the delta ran over in the middle of the night but a young man, everyone suspected domestic abuse, and the case just disappeared.
George was always in trouble as a kid. It was a regular occurrence to see him sitting on JA Elementary’s “Black Bench” outside Ms. Wallace’s office. He was always a thin, lanky kid until he left JA, went to Murrah and started handing out with the steroid crowd. In elementary he always had that stupid mischievous smirk on his face. In high school it started to look sinister. The last time I saw him was probably six months or so before the murder. He walked past me and didn’t even look at me or acknowledge me, despite the fact we had know each other since preschool. His eyes were black and soulless. His entire presence was dark, and unnerving. I felt like I was in the presence of a malevolent spirt of pure evil. Little did I know what he was capable of doing.
This was the first story kingfish gained credibility on. Media didn't have much follow up reporting but kingfish followed it and gave a lot of info that media either didn't know or were too scared to publish.
5:14 PM Which town was that?
Collette can work Pro Bono!
Post a Comment