by Betsy Shaw posted in Mom Stories
I don’t know what to think about the senseless murder of Melissa Jenkins– teacher, waitress and single mom, here in Vermont.
The story, so far, is just so tragic, convoluted and inconceivable: A single mother with a toddler and two jobs fields a call from a couple she “knew,” claiming to have car trouble at 8:30 on a Sunday night, and she goes to their aid only to be murdered by them. There is still no clear motive, other than the confessional statement that the man wanted “to get a girl.”
I want so much for the story to have a different ending. I want to rewind and have this 33-year old mom, with obviously enough on her plate already, turn down the request for help. I want her to say, “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I’ve got a two year old to put to bed. Call someone else.”
But instead, she said yes, and put her two-year-old son in the car and went off to help these people, these stupid people who had nothing but evil on their minds. (I am in no way blaming the victim here. I am only wishing we could rewrite this script.)
God I wish she hadn’t gone. I wish she hadn’t lived alone. I wish she hadn’t been so vulnerable, so trusting, so kind, so human.
And the thought of her son, a two-year-old boy, watching the bad people take his mother from him, then sitting alone and, eventually, falling asleep in an idling car in the dark for several hours until someone found him. And the thought of him never seeing his mother again…
One of the beautiful things about living in Vermont is how benign it is here. Aside from stinging bugs and freezing temperatures, we’ve got very little in the way of real danger to worry about. Crime is low. Quality of life is high.
To live in Vermont is to be lulled into complacency. We trust. A lot of us still don’t lock our doors, car or house. Whenever I’m looking for my keys or my wallet, they’re usually in the car where I left them, overnight.
And the sense of community: The villages and towns are small enough that people know each other– first name basis, pot lucks, helping our neighbors, knowing our neighbors, not fearing our neighbors– is strong. So the fact that Melissa Jenkins was lured to her death under the guise of helping someone in need just slays my heart.
I hate to be a downer, or an alarmist, or to upset your quiet night, or to be Chicken Little and tell you the sky is falling, that people are not to be trusted, or that guy who delivers your paper, he could be a sociopath, or don’t let your kids out of your sight, but it’s hard not to feel that way right now.
Do you live in a safe community? Do you know your neighbors? Do you trust them?
Read more from source:“babycenter-com-baby”
i wish melissa jenkins had said no
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