Feline Warrior

Trial Date Set for South Hills Murder Suspect

An excerpt: Illderton, who pleaded not guilty during arraignments in Kanawha County Court today, was denied bond and remains in south central regional jail. His trial has been set for August 28.

This is a followup to this post, from October 2005: Murder Close to Home

Oh, lord. I’ve been putting together a preliminary playlist for a CD I am making for a friend. I like to do this - in the 80s, I was the friend who would labor for hours and hours and proudly present only the most deserving friends (or crushes) with custom made cassettes, complete with handpainted covers. Oh, yeah, lots of red wine was always involved.  Today there’s no red wine, and there probably won’t be a handpainted cover for the CD.

In searching for songs to add to the compilation, I pulled out a BETTY CD, “Limboland.” It’s a great record, circa 1996. That’s when I heard it first, too - mine is a promo copy because I hired BETTY to play at the Ryan White Youth Service Awards for Metro Teen AIDS, a non-profit for which I volunteered.

So that was December 1996. A very dark time of life for me. When I say dark, you have to use your imagination and picture overflowing ashtrays, empty wine and vodka bottles, candlelight instead of electricity -more for mood accuracy than an unpaid bill, although sometimes it was the latter. Suicidal ideations, as they are called, were splashed across the black canvas of my mind, not as new thoughts, but in the nearing-perfection stages. It would not be unusual to notice a hint of wine coming from my pores, if one were to stand very close to me.

Not a happy time.

But I didn’t talk to anyone about it. Those close -and some not so close- could tell that something was wrong. Otherwise, off to work I went (mostly) and to my various activities.

December 1996. A young friend named William had suddenly fallen ill. First one disease, then another, was diagnosed. Finally, the doctors said he was dying from AIDS-related illnesses. AIDS-RELATED? He’s only 20, for god’s sake! Oh, the weepiness I feel expanding when I tell this story…

December 1996. William, a 20-year old black man, not known to be gay, bisexual, or an IV drug user, but not known not to be. A freakin’ youth educator on all matters sexual. Complicated. Alcoholic mother (like I’m one to judge, but sure as hell, I did), ashamed that her boy has AIDS. I never did meet her at the hospital, and that’s apparently because she did not go. Shame is a mighty powerful thing. When you stir large amounts of alcohol into that shame, you have a mighty intense concoction.

December 1996. This story all happens, really, within a two-week period of time, at the most. William, hanging on, me holding his hand, kissing his soft forehead, rubbing his hands. Me telling him that we love him, we’re proud of him, that the Ryan White Youth Service Awards program is going to be a big hit because of the work he did (maybe a lie, but big deal). I tell him that it’s okay to let go. I tell him I will never ever forget about him, and that I’ll see him in heaven one day. (And at that point, I think it might not even be that long ’till I’m headed that way.)

December 1996. William lets go. I freak out. I killed him, I told him to let go and he did. It’s all my fault. In a drunken rage, I try desparately to reach Kent’s roommate Alma, who is a pastor. She’ll know what to do, she’ll be able to tell me if god (who I only conveniently believe in when I might be in trouble) will be mad at me. Finally, after a thousand rings, call-backs, slurry voice mail messages left, she calls me back. Alma assures me that god is not mad at me, and I helped William to let go. That is a good thing.

December 1996. During this entire time, the BETTY, “Limboland” CD is playing. Constantly. It is the soundtrack of my life at this point. When William dies, and then for the weeks following, I listen to this CD over and over. (William never heard it - it’s just one of those things.) Certainly I played other music too - I had one of those 5-carriage CD players. There had to be other stuff on there, too. But this CD was the soundtrack.

January 1997. Life changes completely. The dark starts to fade, light shines in at times. I don’t start to see in full color for another year or so, but it is better. Much better.

But back to the CD: I could not listen to “Limboland” for a number of years after William’s death. I’d try, because I just love BETTY. Yes, love. But every time I heard it, I’d be shot back in time. I’d find that my heart was filled with unexplainable pain and deep, deep sorrow. It was too much to bear. Finally, I was able to listen to the CD, and most often I just enjoy it for what it is - a damn fine record.

April 2006. Kapow. Listening to “Limboland” as I search for just the right songs to add to the compilation CD, the tender spot isn’t quite as sore as it was earlier today. But that first note, a bassy sound, a softly driving beat, damn if I didn’t get the old feeling. And so in my own odd way, I prayed for William - for his soul, for the life he didn’t get to live, and finally, for the first time, for his mother. I hope she’s better, too.