April 5, 2001

I remember talking with my wife about bringing a child into this violent world before Jesse was even a thought in our minds. I remember after Jess was born, holding him in my arms for the first time in the hospital, feeding him his first bottle and watching him fall asleep in my arms, wondering how God could give my wife and I such a precious gift. I remember changing his diapers, taking him for walks, watching him throw his first football and shooting his first basket and catching his first fish. I remember my wife and I always making sure that we hugged him and told him how much we loved him. I remember as Jess grew, playing basketball with him and his friends, and playing football with Jess and his friends. I remember his friends spending the night at our house. His first Superbowl party and his friends staying the night before the game. I remember my wife fixing them pancakes in the shape of footballs for breakfast that Superbowl morning, and how many pancakes Jason ate. I remember a boy starting to turn into a young man, trying to find his way in this world. I remember this young man, our son, looking for some spiritual guidance and going to church with his Dad.I remember my wife and I talking about how maybe one day Jesse would get married and we would become Grandparents.That was something we were both looking forward to...but that was not to be. For as a rose struggles to open it's petals and spring forth into it's full bloom, this rose was ripped from the ground. It's life cut short. Not given a chance to come to a full bloom and show it's resplendid colors. Now my wife and I have only memories of what was our boy. We sit in the house and stare at his pictures that surround us and we remember. Trying to hold back the tears. Trying to make sense out of a senseless world. "How could God let this happen?" my wife asked me. I said, "Remember the card a friend sent us?" This friend had written on the card, "It's not God's will that takes you son's life, it's man's will." It was man's will that pointed that semi-automatic weapon at the back of my son's head, and it was man's will that pulled the trigger. Now all we have left are memories and pictures, and thoughts of what might have been, but was not meant to be. Our hearts have been ripped from our chests as the rose was ripped from the ground. Our Rose, Our Son, will never return. And we remember.

Arriving at Cost Cutter parking lot, seeing the tarp covered car, with Jason and Jesse laying dead in the back seat. We remember wanting to run to them and hold them and tell them that we loved them one last time, but the police stopped us and told us we couldn't. We never got to see Jesse again. Now all we have left is memories. And we remember. Our son telling his Mom that he wanted to become a firefighter, because he thought that was the best way he could help people. The thought of helping people was Jesse's motivation to return to school and get his GED, so he could become a firefighter. His senior year at Mariner high school, he was voted Class Clown, because he loved to do goofy things and to make people laugh. Even when they were in a bad mood. I remember the poem Jesse wrote 2 weeks before his death, titled, "Not To Worry," which he wrote for a neighbor's family, and has now been published. It is out in book stores entitled, "The Hush Of Moonlight." It has also been professionally recorded in a studio and is contained on a 3 CD set of 33 poems. Yes, Our Rose left his legacy in his poetry. Now Our Rose is gone. Gone forever, and we remember.

GOD BLESS YOU JESSE AND JASON, FOREVER.. WE LOVE YOU.

AND WE REMEMBER.

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Mom and Dad