Starr's Birthday 10/06/1972 - 10/06/2016
This is not meant to be a book about my sister's life. It is merely a reflection on things now that she has been gone for over a year. I could write a book; There is no interest outside of myself and maybe my mother. The critics would eat me alive.
In place of that I have decided to write the equivalent of a magazine article hitting some of what I will call "hot spots" about my sister. I hope it is worth the reader's time.
This is important to me because I want everyone to know that does not; My sister's life mattered. It mattered to her mother, her daughter, her family, and many others.
My sister was born in late 1972. I had petitioned my parents for her and they obliged me. Starr and I grew up in as normal an environment as one could expect in the southern US when only four years had passed since RFK and MLK Jr. had been assassinated.
We moved around over the years but always within the Solid South. Hooray.
We fought like I imagine most siblings did and she contracted mom and dad to fortify her side of the wars and my younger sister Carman was born. The battle of the sexes, seventies style, was on.
As we matured and moved on into our adolescent years, music became not only a conjoiner but also a separator in many ways.
I remember now many artists Starr turned me onto that I balked on at first. Jackson Browne, Cinderella, Joe Jackson, and others. I now think very fondly of the music we shared between us and I must admit I have my own Starr playlists I have created.
In mid-late 2015, Starr and I had been talking music in depth on the phone. She lived in Oklahoma, and I could write book about that. The thing I will focus on is our conversations about music for now.
She was planning to attend a concert in Oklahoma for her birthday. Def Leppard, Journey, and she mentioned members of Bad Company but I don't know if that was confirmed or just what she was told.
She was so excited, and I was excited for her. Her partner, later her accused murderer was loud and sounded drunk as he overbearingly spoke while I was having this conversation with my sister. It was his usual.
Starr and I were discussing a song by Van Halen, "And The Cradle Will Rock", as he bellowed over and over how it was not Van Halen but Europe (Carrie, The Final Countdown) that sang and made popular the song in question.
Starr, trying to minimize conflict, and now looking back, possibly save herself (another) beating at the hands of the Native American Alcoholics Anonymous meeting leader.
She failed.
Before you decide to get pissy, I didn't kill anyone. Nor do I give a Tinker's damn about their race. His race is murderer. Period.
I mention his heritage for the point of telling you this.
The FBI did what the FBI does and the case was dropped. The Osage Nation (A Native American reservation in Osage County Oklahoma) decided to charge him tribally. If successful, he will get possibly one year in prison for (his second) murder.
Murderer Info
Look for Thomas Mongraine Eaves, and/or Starr L. Pennington.
I have a lot more to say regarding my sister. I literally could go on for days. Any big brother who loved his little sis could understand.
I will be more concise from this point.
Starr was my little sister.
She was two years younger.
She was the most talented person I've known.
She loved large.
She was a woman of many strong emotions.
She always believed things were getting better as long as she tried.
She was the most loyal woman, save my mother, I've ever known.
She suffered emotionally and physically at the hands of that man. (Factual)
It is hard to think of two middle aged people as little kids, but once we were.
We were so damned little.
We believed so strongly.
We made promises to each other, we cursed each other out, we fought like gangs, and we loved like tomorrow didn't exist.
She was my sister.
My little sister.
She was my friend, and I loved her.
He killed her.
Vengeance is mine saith the Lord. I will repay.
-Just L. 10/6/2016 11:26:29 A
0 comments :
Post a Comment