I have putting this off because it will be the hardest one to write. I was happy to turn 40 because we had bought my dream home. It was built in 1903 in our historical district, I was in love with it. We were the 3rd family to own it and all was still original. My daughter turned 16 in our home and we back in our hometown. But, I started to feel sick shortly after we moved in. In October I had gall bladder surgery. I thought that was bad but, my nightmare was just beginning.
My grandson’s mother moved to Arizona at the end of December 1992. My husband and I begged her to leave our grandson behind until they had jobs. We promised to take him there once they were settled. We both feared for his life because, we knew her boyfriend was on drugs. On January 22,1993 around 3:00 a.m. I received a collect call from her that he was in the hospital and had stopped breathing. She said the doctor needed to talk to her and she would call me back. They were in Kingman, Arizona so I called the information operator for the number. My hands shook as I dialed the number. A nurse answered the phone and I explained I was calling long distance about Scotty. I heard her say to someone “it is the grandmother what do I tell her”? I knew then he was dead. Her boyfriend had thrown Scotty against the wall and he had 3 skull fractures and was beaten to death. I heard someone yelling NO!!!!!!!!. That someone was me. My husband took the phone from me and got the details. I then had to stay awake to tell my son that his son was dead. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.Both he and my husband reacted with anger I went into shock.
The next morning I had to tell my daughter and she fell apart because to her he was her baby. From the time he was 3 months old she had moved in with her brother to help with him. To her he was her baby. The day was very busy. My husband went to work and designed his tombstone. It would be our last gift to out beloved Scotty. We packed and headed out that night for Kingman. We drove straight through and once at the motel he went in to check in and was refused a room. After he came back to the car and turned to me and said, “do I look like a manic”?. I laughed at his 2 day beard and wild hair with red eyes and said” sorry but yes”. It would be a very long time before I laughed again. We did find a wonderful motel and, once they found out why we were there, they gave us great rates. They were wonderful to us for the week that we were there. We decided to go eat and I bought 4 newspapers. The waitress asked if we could leave her one but, I told her who we were as Scotty’s murder was front page news in that small town. We each wanted our own copy to keep. Soon a hush came over the room as all eyes was on us. Of course, we did not eat much. The next day was spent with the police . We had to plan his funeral which the date kept changing. The state did their autopsy but, the defense wanted a second one done. We were told if we did not agree he might get off, we did not want that to happen. Of course, we had to agree. With our car tags everyone knew who we were everywhere we went. It was beyond awful. Finally we had the funeral. When we told them we had brought the headstone they were shocked. We were told it usually took a year in Arizona to get one. They sent us out to eat so they could place it. Once back I stood in front of it and, took the same photo over and over. Finally my husband took the camera from my hands. It broke my heart and it still has a hole there for Scotty. I told my children I did not understand why this had to happen but, there was a reason. We had to trust God to bring good out of this. The trip back was very quiet. Once again we drove straight through.
Once back home I called and made a appointment for my daughter to talk with someone. I had her write the killer a letter and to keep a journal. I took her to the first appointment and he told me that I had given her great advice. She went for 6 months and they had her on Zoloft, now they know not to give it to under 18 years old. It helped some but, she was so filled with anger and hate.
My blood pressure went sky-high and I had trouble breathing. All I wanted to do was sleep but I had to sleep sitting up. My coughing would keep me up all night. I knew in my heart I was dying but, no one would listen to me. They thought it was grief.