May 5th 1998
As I drove or what really felt more like floated through the four way
intersection at North Hampton and maybe Beckley (I can’t recall exactly) in Oak
cliff. My ears picked up bits and pieces of the morning show on 1310 The ticket. I smiled or maybe I thought I did. I truly believe that listening to the Ticket that morning gave me much needed stability or something that resembled “normalcy”. My hands were
tired from squeezing the steering wheel with all my might for the last 45
minutes. The drive from North Richland Hills seemed to be one of the longest
road trips of my life. It was just me but the thoughts of my entire family
overflowed my mind. I made my way up the street to the Dentist
office where my father’s Tool Truck was parked. The area around the truck was
taped off and two or three DPD units were parked making a semi-circle around
the passenger side. A couple of what I thought were detectives looked over here and
over there and in the dumpster after I told them some sort of evidence may be in there. They obliged, pried up the lid from its corner because it was locked. They peered inside seemingly satisfied and carried on their investigation. They did not seem to be interested. The night before I drove over this very area searching for my dad’s tool truck. One came over and asked me” Is this your father’s truck?”. ” Yes” My father’s friend stood beside me. ” Which one of you wants to go inside “? Before I could even answer. My dad’s friend “I will”. It was probably better that I did not go inside.
My dad owned his own business. He had a route in Oak Cliff for thirteen
years. He sold Cornwell tools to the mechanics in that area. He was
murdered. Our family feels and what the detectives feel is that it was a random act of violence. Only his wallet was taken. Nothing has been resolved to this day. He has become a number,
yet another person ripped from this earth. My mother had been diagnosed
with ovarian cancer two weeks before she passed away four years later. Should a son console his mother then hold her hand as she takes that last sigh and then slips into death?
My son was born on May 5th 2002. My mother would have loved him beyond words. My father would have made a new best friend with advice on how to take on this world.