I gave a lecture today on the women of deatah row and it never ceases to touch my heart every time I do it. I've related the tales to young womens group homes and new police recruits as well as womens groups and true crime fans. Everything from anti dealth penalty rallys to book clubs have requested my lecture. Everyone is interested for a different reason.
Today I was in a small group home for teen girls close to my home. I stood in the living room and told the tales of how a girl can go wrong, how constant abuse can wreck a womans life from the inside out.
After the lecture I usually leave right away. This time I was stopped by a little girl about 13 with soft brown hair and ginger colored feckles across her nose. Her light brown eyes shone with a glossy tear and she whispered something I couldnt quite hear.
I bent down closer to her and said "What was that, hun?"
"I dont have to hate her now. I can just go on. I dont have to hate her."
Then she ran out of the room. No one seemed to care. No one went after her or even thought twice about her moment.
The dorm mother brought me into the kitchen and explained to me that Margie was in the group hme because her mother had attempted to murder her, two sibblings and her father by torching them alive in their home. The mother was unsuccessful and in jail but Margie had been struggling with her life ever since.
That was the first time Margie had spoken to a stranger since he'd been there.
I hope with all my heart that I helped Margie in some positive way. I hope that this blog helps someone somewhere every time it is read.
Today I was in a small group home for teen girls close to my home. I stood in the living room and told the tales of how a girl can go wrong, how constant abuse can wreck a womans life from the inside out.
After the lecture I usually leave right away. This time I was stopped by a little girl about 13 with soft brown hair and ginger colored feckles across her nose. Her light brown eyes shone with a glossy tear and she whispered something I couldnt quite hear.
I bent down closer to her and said "What was that, hun?"
"I dont have to hate her now. I can just go on. I dont have to hate her."
Then she ran out of the room. No one seemed to care. No one went after her or even thought twice about her moment.
The dorm mother brought me into the kitchen and explained to me that Margie was in the group hme because her mother had attempted to murder her, two sibblings and her father by torching them alive in their home. The mother was unsuccessful and in jail but Margie had been struggling with her life ever since.
That was the first time Margie had spoken to a stranger since he'd been there.
I hope with all my heart that I helped Margie in some positive way. I hope that this blog helps someone somewhere every time it is read.
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