The Voice of a Child: A Victim of Racist America

By Sapphire

This is the story of a man whose hands ended the life of eight fellow employees as well as his own. What kind of a man would do such a thing? The reader will be surprised to learn the answer to that question. Authors Son grew with strong convictions. Did his convictions include the difference between right and wrong? Was the authors son lazy or hardworking? Was he mean or was he generous?

The answer to these questions, as well as the description of the tragedy that took place on the grounds of a racist monster company on August 3, 2010, comprise the gist of this absorbing story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664110083

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Copyright © 2021 by Sapphire.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 10/04/2021

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Preface

Special Thanks

Introduction

PART ONE

His Life

PART TWO

My Son and This Monster Company

Author’s Note

Sapphire’s Thoughts

My Son

My Son’s Final Words

This book is not about me. This story is about my son—

his life, his struggles, and his side of the story!

PREFACE

Tragedy struck me on August 3, 2010, when my son lost his life.

In the pursuant of the American dream, the obstacles of society sometimes becomes apparent. But when faced with the obstacle of racism, it is an issue that is apparent but overlooked and sometimes ignored. But no obstacle is greater than the infliction of institutional racism. It changes a man, a woman, or a child and takes them out of their natural state of good and puts them into survival mode—especially when survival is challenged.

What happened to my son is tragic. The story is tragic. But the world needs to know that he was a good man . . . facing a cruel world.

But for every ending, there had to be a beginning. And as it stands today, I bring forth to the world my son’s side of this tragic story.

I started writing his story on December 18, 2010, with a lot of pain and with a huge hole in my heart that will never heal. But I have to let the world know the truth about my son’s life—the truth that will reveal that his death occurred long before his own heart stopped beating, at the hands of a system that failed to protect him and many others who came before him. It was a systematic death at first, and that is really what happened to my son.

I don’t believe that my son killed himself. I believe that the people of the company he worked for killed him.

Just imagine being a mother receiving a phone call at 7:00 a.m. and your child telling you that he is going to take his own life. I know he was in a lot of pain at that moment, and now I realize what he had been going through working with those people at his job.

I believe that it is the greatest hurt that any parent can ever have and even more so if your child makes himself a human sacrifice for what he believed in. And you know that within his heart, he really believed that it would change things for other people.

I also know that it was far too late to even think about trying to stop him on that tragic day. But he will be greatly missed and loved always.

I know that many people would like to know what goes on in the mind of a person who would commit such an act. A person may also wonder where this person came from, how his upbringing was, and what state of mind he could have been in. Was it something that I, his mother, did wrong?

Well, there have been many tragedies throughout the world in the last few years with stories that ended the way my son did. And I have been contemplating the release of his side of the story for many years now. But I am his mother, and I can only speak for my son.

SPECIAL THANKS

I would like to thank all the people who have shown support and encouragement over the years. Your words and inspiration has kept me strong and able to keep my son’s memory alive.

INTRODUCTION

As I sit here this New Year’s night, January 1, 2016, I am just memorizing my baby, and I’m thinking about the fact that I will never see him again.

I will never be able to hug him again, and I will never be able to tell him I love him again. I will never see any of his kids, and he will never be married.

I will never know what kind of wife he may have chosen, and I will never know what he could have become because his life was cut so short.

I will never hear his laughter, nor will I receive another surprise. No more calls ever again. My life has definitely changed forever.

May his soul rest in peace, and may God have mercy on me, for my life is forever shattered and will definitely never be the same way again.

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PART ONE

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HIS LIFE

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Today is December 18, 2010, and I am in a lot of pain right now. There is a hole in my heart that will never heal, but I have to let the world know the truth about my son’s life.

I was six months pregnant with my son before his father found out about him. The year was 1976, and my son was born that same year.

At birth, he weighed only four pounds, ten ounces, and he stayed in the hospital for a few weeks until he gained more weight, in order for me to finally bring him home.

From the early onset of my son’s life, he had been involved in some pretty interesting occurrences, which, of course, began when he was born prematurely. But not too long after giving birth to him, he was kidnapped!

It was just so frightening for me and my family and also devastating. I just couldn’t believe that my new baby boy was missing. It happened six months out of the hospital, when he was only seven months old. And so my boyfriend at that time, who was not my son’s father, endangered his life and decided to kidnap him. I remember contacting the local police, and with their effort, they were able to find them. My son was returned to me that same night. Thank God for that.

At the ripe ole age of seven years old, he was also hit by a car.

I was on my way home from work, and his older sister was looking after him for an hour. And somehow, he wandered off onto the street. He had no broken bones, but he was just scared, and they kept him in the hospital overnight for observation. I was so thankful that he was okay.

When my son was still a small baby, I had him christened at his aunt’s church. Once he got older, he would go with her to visit there from time to time. But there was a time when his faith got stronger, and he wanted to be taught the Word of God. So he began attending her church more often, but that route left him with so many questions. He was curious about what he saw in that church and the members. So he continued to attend, that is, until he figured out that the people there seemed as though they were not very true, and that was his interpretation at that time.

I remembered him always asking me why. He always questioned things that did not seem right in his own heart. But I feel as though my son found the answers that he was seeking, and shortly after that time, he stopped attending church with her. It wasn’t a surprise because my son always had his own mind and always made his own decisions, starting from a very early age. I say that because whenever I would try to punish him, he would take that and turn it into something that made him comfortable. For instance, I would put him on a punishment, but instead of getting upset and becoming rebellious, he would turn it into a positive situation for himself.

I remember once, I peeped into his room after putting him on punishment, and he would be singing or reading or perhaps just playing. In other words, he would never let punishment make him sad. He would find a way to be just fine with the situation by doing something constructive.

As the years rolled by, I wanted my son to be involved in things that typical teenagers were involved in at a young age. I tried different things that I thought he might like, such as football, basketball, and track, but the only thing that seemed