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Life Without Jermaine...Prison Diaries--Diary #1 (By Angela Dawes, aged 18) by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Saturday, March 27, 2004
Rated "PG" by the Author.
A young mother writes about her child, who died last summer due to her negligence. The little boy was only eight months old when he died after being left in a hot van.
I will no longer be able to look at another young infant or young child without seeing or thinking of my own son, Jermaine Michael Dawes, who died last year because of MY negligence and stupidity.
I left my son in our van we had at the time while I went shopping; I didn't think I would be gone as long as I was, and I didn't think twice of taking him into the store with me as I shopped, so I could keep a close eye on him. That is what any caring, good mother would have done. But I didn't think to use my head, and I left my son in a van when it was hot out, and because of it, he suffered heat stroke, and he became very sick. By the time I had gotten back to the van, there were police swarming around the van, looking inside; and I was wondering what was going on; but then I saw them open the door and take out the body of a little baby who was jerking uncontrollably; and I was horrified to see that it was the body of my little son, Jermaine, who was eight months old at the time. His little face was red (in fact, his entire body was red), and he was covered with sweat, and he looked like he was dead; his color was poor, and it scared the living hell out of me. I then realized the seriousness of the situation, and I knew immediately what I had done, and I started to cry as they placed my son into the rear of an ambulance that had pulled up.
I got to the hospital, and I feared for little Jermaine's life. He was immediately taken to a table, and doctors and nurses worked over him, trying to get his body temperature back down, and hooking up lines to him. They were trying to get him to stop shaking, and from the urgency showing on their faces, I knew at once it was very bad, and it scared me.
Things only got worse; and a few days after this happened, my son took a turn for the worse, and he inadvertantly died. They couldn't save him, no matter how hard they tried, and I knew immediately upon hearing the news that my life as I knew it was now over. I would probably be charged with the death of my infant son, and I would, no doubt, be going to prison for what would seem like a very long time.
I am still in prison as I write this, and there isn't a set time of when I will be released. Right now, I am looking at a 25-year to life sentence, and I will always have to live with the crime against my son. Because of my sins, my son is dead, and there is NOTHING I can do or say that will bring him back. And there isn't a day where I don't cry or think about what I have done, and now my life, as I once knew it, is over. I am now charged with a serious offense, and I am a marked woman forever and ever. I will be mocked and scorned, and people will look down on me like I am trash, and I will probably never be able to get a job thanks in part to my murder conviction. I was found guilty of negligence and endangerment to a child, and I was charged with first degree murder of my son, Jermaine Michael Dawes, aged 8 months of age. Because of my stupid actions, my son will never grow up to be an adult, will never go to school or to college, never play professional sports or embark on a career, never go on a date or to the school dance, never get married or have children of his own, and will never know the joys or pleasures that life can bring. He is now lying in a tiny casket, buried in a cold, unforgiving cementary, with only a small headstone and grave marking his one-time existance. He is dead, and I am the one who is responsible for his death, and I don't think I will never, ever forgive myself for this horrible tragedy that has befallen MY son, MY child, MY life.
A jaded cold case investigator finds himself trying to solve a thirty year old mystery when the skeletal remains of two missing teenagers are found in a national park.
"We walked in on a surreal scene. There are few words, if any, to accurately describe the abject horror..."
What Jeannie and Kevin McDonough saw was a wanted, multi-state serial killer about to take his next victim - their own daughter. W
A jaded cold case investigator finds himself trying to solve a thirty year old mystery when the skeletal remains of two missing teenagers are found in a national park.
I will no longer be able to look at another young infant or young child without seeing or thinking of my own son, Jermaine Michael Dawes, who died last year because of MY negligence and stupidity.
