Part 25.

(Today, February 1, 2024, my Mother would have been 70 years old. I want to celebrate. Because I haven’t been able to, for 30 years. I’d love to do something special for her today, in her memory, to honor her. I finally feel like I can. Even with what I’m about to say. This is the first February 1st that I’ve had any sense of peace. I feel good. Again, even with what I’m about to say. Happy Birthday Ma.)

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A few days ago I got a call from someone offering their words of encouragement and to let me know the inspiration that I’ve been this entire time. So many people have called or sent messages since Hazel’s death. The consensus is hope that this now allows for my family and I to move past, at least this part. Hazel has been a constant thorn in our collective sides for a very long time. She is, was, the proverbial elephant in the room. And somehow she was also the room. She had been the most spoken-about-not-spoken-about-spoken-about topic of our, and a great deal of other people’s, lives. She was definitely my bogeyman. She’d become the embodiment of all things that I can equate to wrong about the world. She was my biggest issue with the world.

With all the silence that there has been in our lives, who Hazel was to us has been extremely loud. And the phone call turned loud. Because I got a bit frustrated. During the conversation I ventured off into a rant about how crazy this entire experience has been for us, my siblings and I, specifically. At one point I started listing off some people that it really disappointed me to have to endure their absence. Because of the connection they had to my Mom, speaking of her friends. They were in and part of our lives. These people meant a lot to my Mom! They were friends by definition and title, but they were family to us. Because that is how she introduced and how she implemented them into our routines, regimens, and responsibilities, as family.

At my mention of one name in particular, the person gasped. I caught it immediately, that there was something my reference of that name triggered. So I asked what that was about.

I was told that they didn’t want to upset or anger me by discussing this particular friend. I’d discussed an interest in speaking with the people from our past, many times before. When I said that very thing, on this phone call, It was suggested that maybe I shouldn’t reach out to this individual. So as not to upset or anger myself. I was so confused.

So confused.

My Mother had a support system.
(She thought she had a support system.) She’d created and communicated the belief and thought, in us, her children, that the support system that she surrounded us with, had her back. We were to respect and regard and remember them. Those people were instrumental in our lives. They were important to our lives. They were not invisible.

While she was here.

In another recent conversation, I was talking to someone from our past and I made this comment:

“… Because everyone disappeared, we didn’t notice anyone in particular not being there. EVERYONE left. All of the friends, family, and community, never showed up, after my Mom was gone.”

I said that in response to someone else bringing up the revelation that one of my Mother’s friends, one of her good friends, had been nefariously involved in this. Like I have said, I knew that we were going to get some more information due to Hazel’s death. Just how much people were scared and afraid of her, intimidated by her, and terrified, is crazy. Why or how it was common knowledge- among certain individuals- that this other friend had a connection to the events of March 26, 1994 and supposedly a relationship with Hazel that was outside of what we thought, is probably going to be a mystery to me. The friend this person mentioned was the same friend the other person mentioned. And these 2 people don’t know one another.

So, then I called someone else, to ask about that friend. Someone I know that knew all the parties involved. I was told the exact same thing. This person said to me that their belief is that this friend I was asking about had been involved, and at the very least, aware of what happened that night.

Here’s the wild part about that… I only asked about the friend. My exact words were, “Hey, when was the last time you saw or heard from _?”

The response I got, “Ooooh, not since they did that to Michelle. I’m not sure of how she got involved with Hazel, but somehow she found herself messing with Hazel. Something went down.”

To that I said, “Why am I just hearing any of this now? Why didn’t anyone say this to us? To the police?”

The response, “People were afraid. They were hurt. (Long pause) That gay stuff played a big part. (Longer pause) Corn, there’s no good reason for why it happened like that. It was so much talk about what went down. Gossip and mess. Hazel was mad at Michelle and she was gone hurt her. Too many of us knew that, to have been quiet. Ain’t no excuse. Y’all were babies. No one knew what to do.”

This might seem like a sad story. Well, it is a sad story. I’m not sad though. I haven’t been sad for awhile.

Whatever I had been all of this time, doesn’t matter. I know what it’s time to be. I know who it’s time to be.

It is time to move past the part of this that triggered me into being idle. It is time to give myself permission to move past that part. It is time to forgive myself for not knowing what to do and that being the reason that I did a lot of the “wrong” things. It is time to accept that I made human decisions as a result of human trauma that was the byproduct of a human tragedy. It is time to acknowledge that I did everything I could to bring Hazel to justice.

I fought for my Mom. I know that she is proud of me. For so long I felt like she was disappointed. Disappointed that I’d not been able to acquire justice. Disappointed that I was unable to be the son and big brother that she wanted me to be. Disappointed that I’d suffered silently and allowed all of this to hold me back from doing all of the things that she said that I would. It is time for me to let go of the guilt and shame that I’ve felt, because of that disappointment.
Then there was my disappointment.
I was disappointed in Hazel. I was disappointed in our friends and family. I was disappointed in my Mother’s friends and family. I’m really disappointed in my Mother’s friends and family. I was disappointed in the church. Eventually all of that disappointment morphed into self deprecation. The silence and the trauma and the controversy of it all began a routine of entertaining thoughts that this was all some grand conspiracy. I was disappointed in myself for being a victim of that conspiracy.

Dammit. This post was supposed to be about the things that I’ve learned.
Next one, I promise. Got to let this out as it comes.

And it’s coming. It’s all coming. Some things are coming back too.

Anyway.

I have to get to living.

I do that by continuing to speak up, speak out, and to speak about all of this. Not for the reasons that I had been when I was trying to get Hazel to come forward, but for the purposes of being an example and being the free that comes with moving forward.

Happy Heavenly Birthday Mom.

©️2024 Cornelious “See” Flowers