March 14, 2001

This letter is to tell you what the loss of our son, Jesse Stoner, means to us. Jesse was our only child. He was a fourth generation only child. The family name will not be carried on, but that is of little meaning to us. Our Jesse was a good boy. He did have his faults and he did have a scrape with the law the year before he was murdered. He did 16 days of home detention for possession of a pipe. He worked hard at his job at Interstate Batteries. On May 6, he dropped a glass ice tea jar on his foot and severed a tendon, which required surgery. So, he was laid up at home for a short while from that. Having him on home detention and a bum leg really paid off for us, as we were able to spend more time with him. It was almost like it was our time to share with him before he was killed. I remember walking into his bedroom on the morning of May 30, 2000 and telling him that I was leaving to go to a friend’s house, and telling him that I loved him. My husband came home from work early not feeling well, and was able to give Jesse a hug and tell him that he loved him.

Adrian's aunt Michele came to the door that night at about 8:00 and told us she was to take us up to Cost Cutters because Jesse had been shot. That was all she knew. I remember just praying all the way there, "Please, God, make him be alright." When we pulled up and saw no lights flashing or aid cars, I figured he must be okay. I jumped out of the car and saw the Honda with the yellow tarp over it and all the police tape. I knew then that something wasn't right. Josh H., one of Jesse's friends, came up to me and stood between the car and me. I asked him if Jesse was all right, and all he could do was shake his head no and hug me. A lot of that night is a blur. We do remember watching that car for 3-4 hours, and wanting to go and hold our son. Kiss him goodbye and tell him that we loved him so much. Also to tell him that we were sorry that he had to suffer like that. They wouldn't let us near that car. The officers were very nice, especially Officer Pince.

We came home around 2:10 a.m. that next morning. Just sat here in disbelief. The radio was playing the song by Marc Schultz, "He's My Son," which we had never heard before. We walked into Jesse's room and it was left as usual. Unmade bed, ready for him to fall into when he came home. But he never came back home that night. The shower massage nozzle hanging in the tub from his bath that morning. He had to sit with the casted leg out. The towel was lying over the top of the towel bar, as he always left it. That towel stayed there for 2 weeks after. I pulled out of the laundry basket, the last shirt I had seen him in. It hadn't even been washed yet. For 7 months, I smelled that shirt everyday. When the cologne wore off, I smelled the armpits, just to smell him. All traces of him are gone now and I finally washed it last month. Every time we hear certain songs, see certain shows, movies and even some kid that looks like him from behind, we think of him. We constantly think of him. We miss him more that I can put into words. All we know is that when he was taken from us, he left with a large part of our hearts and souls.

He will always be our son, our baby boy, our life. Because of Dennis and Dale Cramm, our son will never know what it is like to fall in love, start a family, know that special feeling you get when you hold your first born child in your arms. The adoration and pure love that comes from raising that child and teaching them right from wrong. We taught our son right from wrong, which is more than I can say for Dale Cramm. You try to protect your child from harm, but sometimes you're not able to.

We do feel sorry for Dennis, but we also think that he should pay for his actions. At least he will be alive, which is more than we can say for our son and his friend Jason.

We would like you to read a poem that Jesse wrote for our neighbor, when her husband died from a heart attack.

Not To Worry

Time passes by, sometimes in a hurry,

Our thoughts, our family, but not to worry.

Sometimes you feel sad, happy, or all alone,

But not to worry, there's a second home.

Our beliefs, our feelings, we keep within,

But it all comes out when we think of him.

The way he laughed, his love, his face,

But not to worry, he's in a better place.

He's gone forever; you think, 'what to do?'

But not to worry, he's always with you.

He might be gone, but we're always here,

We'll share our love and pass the fear.

Know he's happy, know he's free,

But not to worry, let it be.

This poem was read at our neighbor’s memorial service. Jesse and Jason were murdered 2 weeks to the day after Jesse wrote this poem and it was read at the memorial service for the 2 boys at Mariner high school. It was like he had written it for himself.

He was very talented. We are so proud of him. Even though Jesse is gone, he is still touching lives with his poem.

All of his friends miss him so much. Many of them come by to say hi and to look at his urn, which is sitting in our living room with his baby shoes on top of it.

He had so much life in him. Being without him is something that my husband and I will have to live with for the rest of our lives. Many people say that it was God's will. We know for a fact that it wasn't God's will, but man's.

It was Dennis Cramm's decision to grab that gun and kill our son.

We will continue to pray for all of our family, and friends, and yes we even pray for Dennis. If justice is not done here on earth, we know for a fact that God will have the final judgment.

I could go on and on, telling you how we celebrated his 19th birthday, six days after he was murdered, what Thanksgiving was like and wondering if we had anything to be thankful for, how Christmas was bittersweet, how we gave most of his clothes to a kid who was in desperate need of clothing, but how we kept quite a bit for ourselves, how almost 19 years is packed into 2 boxes, and is sitting on our closet shelf, how everyday is a living nightmare. But I won't. I'm sure you hear these things all the time. We just hope you have not become immune to such things and that you have compassion for the victims. We trust that you will use your heart, as well as your mind when you sentence Dennis Cramm.

Sincerely,

Donna Stoner