We grew up in a large family, 8 kids in all. We were all very
close as kids. Bill and I were 13 months apart, so we were fairly close
growing up. Of course as you get older and get married you tend to grow
apart. With my job and trying to care for my own family, that didn't leave much
time for anything else. Bill was fun-loving, and although there were many times
that we didn't see eye to eye, we still loved and cared for each other very
much. He was 30 years old on Aug. 20, 1999. He never married or had kids
to carry on his name or legacy. He was still young, and wanted to live life to
its fullest and have fun before settling down to marry and have kids, and after
growing up in a broken home, I guess he didn't want to take the chance of it
happening to his children, so he wanted to make sure he got it right the first
time. He had many friends, probably more than he knew. They thought a great deal
of Bill. They cried as much as we did over Bill's death.
He didn't lead the perfect life, but who does? He was starting
to make that turn between boy and man. Starting to take some responsibility for
his actions. He was always tender hearted, never came off that way, but deep
down everybody knew that. If you needed a dollar and it was his last one he
would have given it to you. It's hard for me to really describe the kind of
person Bill was, because everyone that knew him knew that he was just Bill. His
own person that had his own ways. The murder happened on Sunday, October 3,
1999, a day I will never forget as long I live. He was killed in Hartwell,
GA, a small town where things like this aren't supposed to happen, let alone to
you. I really can't go in to much detail because the trial or jury selection has
not begun yet. They do have the suspect in jail, holding him without bond.
I can't describe how I feel inside, so empty and lonely. Not
knowing myself what he went through, hoping that God was there and took away his
pain. I pray to God everyday that he held him and told him that it was going to
be alright. I never got to say goodbye or I love you before he died. We couldn't
have an open casket because of the extent of murder.
I'll always want to know
why he didn't call me, he always called me if he needed help, and he didn't call
me. I felt deep down that something was wrong, but I couldn't grasp on to what
it was, until I went to my mother's house that Sunday afternoon. That was one of
the worst parts. People had been calling my mother's house and actually asking
her if it was true, when she hadn't heard anything.
The local sheriff's
department had went and leaked information to everyone except the people they
should have told - us. My sisters and brother were sitting at the sheriff's
office when I got there about 3:00, they had been there since noon, and still no
one would tell them anything, yet they were still telling everyone all over
town. Finally around 7:30, they confirmed it with my sister that it was Bill.
Why couldn't they have confirmed it at 12:00, they had already confirmed it with
the rest of the town. That really hurt my family. I hope that it never happens
to anyone else like that, though I'm sure it probably happens all the
time. Do they know how much that they betrayed us? We asked and
asked and they would say that they couldn't tell us anything, but they could
tell the rest of the community - they couldn't tell us, although we all knew
deep down that it was Bill, we kept hanging own to that last bit of hope.
I wish every day that I could take his place, for my mother's
sake, I just don't think she would hurt so bad, if it had been me
instead.