Part 20.

I’m not sure what I expected to feel the moment that there was no longer the shadow that has been over me for all of this time.

Happiness? Peace? Relief? Joy? Sadness? Hurt? Grief? Anxiety?

I don’t know that I had an emotion in mind. Not sure if I ever had that type of expectation.

Let me tell you what I didn’t expect:

I didn’t expect anyone that had not one ounce of courage, guts, balls, or any other type of energy, all of this time to say something TO ME about any of this, to fix their mouth and say something ignorant that was loud enough for me to hear in this moment.

Oh wait. They didn’t. But they’ve whispered amongst themselves. And there are snakes that burrow amongst snakes. Of course some of the snakes would slither their way to me. And they’ve been a hissing.

Let me get the pleasantries out of the way:

Hazel Ezell is dead. January 23, 2024. The woman that murdered my Mother has died.

Part 20/20
I can SEE now.

Not once, since March 28, 1994, the morning I discovered my Mother’s body, has anyone said something to me like, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

Not once.

Conversely, I’ve been told that everything I know and have told was the truth and corroborated evidence, suggestion, and lined up with the investigation.

Understand this: Hazel Ezell was not charged with my Mother’s murder because she benefited from assistance from her family, because the case was filled with circumstantial evidence, and because in 1994, a homosexual love-affair-domestic-situation-resulting-in-a-murder was not high priority for the police department.

Start with those facts.

Why didn’t Hazel get dealt with by the hands of “street justice”? Ask around. Because I wanted it handled the “right way”. I wanted her to be arrested and charged. I believed in the “justice system”. At that time I had the States Attorney and Chief Joe Falica assuring me that we would get the justice that we were seeking. So I shutdown every attempt and request to move any other way. Because I did not want the ramifications of revenge/vengeance to cause further harm to my siblings, and I had, and still have, a heart for Hazel’s children. I’m saying that today and I said it 30 years ago.

Because understand this: They might see it another way, but this family was the first and for the most part, only family that I knew and spent time with.

This situation was/is messy, toxic, unfortunate, full of drama, hurtful, painful and it caused a world of dysfunction and destruction.

Let me breathe.

Quick story…

Saturday, I reached out to Hazel’s brother. She was in hospice at his home. I was given that information about a week ago. Before reaching out to him, over the last 30 years, I’ve reached out to Hazel directly. I’ve sent messages, emails, and I’ve tried to arrange a meeting. I offered her the opportunity to meet with me privately or publicly. I’ve made these requests, both privately and publicly. I just wanted to talk to her. As I’ve said many times before, and written, Hazel was a very important part of my Mothers life and there were some questions and details that only she could answer for me. I was never in doubt as to whether she murdered my Mother. Go back and read anything that I’ve written about the case. I know she did it. She knew that I knew she did it. That is why Hazel NEVER, not once, said a word to me in the last 30 years. The last time that her and I spoke to one another was in February of 1994. She came around for my Mother’s birthday. She spent the night. I woke up the next morning and she was in the house. She’d slept on the couch. After she left out I looked at my Mom with a confused and frustrated face. My Mother assured me that Hazel was not coming back. She said that Hazel had stayed the night because she had a little too much to drink and didn’t need to be behind the wheel.
That day was the last time that Hazel and I shared any words. We spoke in passing.
I can tell you exactly how many times that I saw Hazel in the last 30 years:
1st time was at the police station after they took her into custody and questioned her the day after my Mother was found, March 29, 1994. 2nd time was in 1997, she was next door to a house that I was visiting on the night of prom. 3rd time was in 2000 at a family gathering that I left after seeing her there. 4th time was in 2022 at a memorial service that I attended because I knew she would be there. I planned to confront her and try to force her to talk to me afterwards. My wife called and asked me to leave. I left because the memorial service was not the venue for what I was doing, or wanted to do. But I sat in that room and stared at her for the entire time I was there.
Hazel was my bogeyman. It was time that I transferred the energy that I’d been carrying, back to the person that it belonged to.

But 4 times, that’s how many times I had seen her.

However, that’s not how many times that she had seen me. In 2013 it was brought to my attention that a friend that I am very close with and his family had ties to Hazel. Hazel and I had attended multiple gatherings together and been in the same place on numerous occasions. Here’s the thing though, I never knew she was there. The family would always announce that I was coming by and, from their words, Hazel would go off into the basement or upstairs whenever I came around. One time I had to meet the family at the hospital for an emergency. Hazel had been there around the clock until she heard that I was coming by. She abruptly told them that she had an emergency and had to leave. The family had no idea that Hazel and I had history or connection, so it was not made obvious that she’d avoided me all of those times. We found this all out by sheer happenstance. Blew my mind. I found out that Hazel and I had been in the same place on so many occasions, and she hid every time I came around.
That is what prompted the open letter I wrote to her on September 17, 2013. (You Murdered My Mother)

All that to say I’ve been trying to speak with her for all of this time. On Saturday, when I called her brother, I asked if it was possible for me to come by and speak with her. I didn’t know what her status or current state was. He told me that she wasn’t talking and I couldn’t talk (have a conversation) with her. I asked him for the opportunity to come and speak. She could just listen. I told him that he and anyone else could be in the room. I just wanted the opportunity to say the things that I wanted to say to her, to her. He denied that request as well.
After I hung up the phone I felt a wave of emotion flush out of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling but I felt it. For 2 days I sat on trying to pronounce those feelings. Because, as I’ve said to a few people, it was a weird feeling that came over me.
Tuesday morning, 1/23/24. I woke up and sent a text to a medium that I met almost 20 years ago. I don’t even know if she calls herself a medium, but I believe that’s the gift that she has. Anyway, I sent her a text. Because I didn’t want a Bible scripture in that moment, and I didn’t want a jaded opinion. I wanted some clarity and I asked God who should I call. Her name popped in my head. So I sent a text and she responded. I’m not including our entire text thread here but just a sentence from her response:

“…U will also know when u start to feel free of the responsibility to right the wrong.”

When I woke up on Tuesday, that’s the feeling that was over me. I no longer needed to right the wrong. I’ve done all that I could. I’ve fought for 30 years. I’ve spent all of that time trying to get justice for my Mom. All of that time trying to bring my family back together. All of that time trying to heal. And I did all that I could do. I reached out. I spoke truth. I forgave. I did everything.

In that moment…

I felt overwhelmed with anxiousness, like I was about to start running. I had this ridiculous surge of energy. I started pacing my home. Then I told myself to calm down and I laid on my bed. I had been outside, so I had my coat and shoes on. But I just laid on the bed. On my back, looking up at the ceiling.

My phone vibrated. It was a text:

“The b¡tch is dead.”

I didn’t respond to the text before I went onto Facebook and checked to see if there were posts on my timeline saying the same thing and sure enough, there was.

I started getting other texts and phone calls.

Breathe.

I started praying. Because I swear I see a sign in everything. And in this moment, I’d just announced that I had done all that I could do. I’d fought the fight that I could. I tried to handle this with as much respect, dignity, compassion, understanding, and patience as I could muster. It’s taken years away from my life. It’s time for me to move on. “Let go, let God”. Because truthfully, I’d been trying to do God’s work. And not doing mine.

This is what I was saying as I was lying across the bed.

Then that text.

(I don’t call women b¡tches. Ever. That’s not a term that I find proper, ever. That’s what the text said. I don’t agree with their language, but I understand.)

Anyway.

Years ago, a friend of Hazel’s called me. In response to her reading my open letter in 2013. When we first got on the phone she said, “Cornelious, I believe you”. I laughed when she said that. She asked why I was laughing and I told her that I’ve never considered having to be believed. I didn’t write the letter to “be believed”. I wrote the letter because I’d been trying to “move on” and it was obvious that God needed me to face it. I’d always had the peace of mind from knowing what I’ve known. But I was carrying words, thoughts, and feelings that didn’t belong to me. They belonged to Hazel. I wrote the letter because Hazel needed to have all that energy and those words, back. Because no matter what, if no one else knew, her and I knew the truth. Everything that I’ve said about this was the truth. Not my truth. Not a truth. Not one of many truths. This is the truth.

And…

The truth doesn’t need anyone to believe it, for it to be true.

—-

This part though, is for and about the weirdo sh¡t that’s coming from the recesses of some dark and delusional people.

Everything that I’ve said, for the past 30 years of me saying it, I said while Hazel was alive. I sent it to Hazel. I made it available for EVERYONE and ANYONE to see and hear, tell and show Hazel. I didn’t whisper it. I didn’t make it private. I’ve never deleted one word or taken back one thought. And check this, I’ve had my website and social media for as long as they’ve been in existence. I’ve always said the exact same things.

Hazel never had the audacity, courage, balls, or energy to contradict, combat, or communicate ONE WORD to me. She couldn’t and she didn’t.

I gave her grace and showed her mercy though. Because as I’ve said, I know why she did it. That doesn’t make what she did right, but I’ve never been in the dark about it.

Buuuuuuuuut…

To those that have all the words and feelings towards me, please keep that sh¡t where you’ve been keeping it, to yourself. I don’t have the same grace, mercy, or forgiveness, for you. Because what you obviously don’t know is how many people around you know what she did. How many people around you have called, texted, or inboxed me with information and details about things that she’s done. For years.

It is what it is. People chose sides. You chose yours. I see that now.

(Cont’d)

©️2023 Cornelious “See” Flowers