*I’m a firm believer that our loved ones who pass away still speak to us from the other side. You just have to be open to receiving the messages they’re trying to send.
After my sister and her family caught their flight home, Ronnie and I decided to pick up some gyros from a local restaurant to take home for dinner. It had been a very long, emotional day so I didn’t feel like cooking and Ronnie didn’t want to eat leftovers. He was tired of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and green beans.
As we were leaving the restaurant a silver truck jumped out in front of us and Ronnie slammed on his breaks. Ronnie blew his horn while saying a few choice words and continued to complain. The person in the truck stuck their arm out the window and started waving. Not in an angry way. Just a wave.
When I saw them waving, I immediately felt John’s presence and replied, “Hi John!” His energy was all around me and it was very strong.
Ronnie looked at me like I had lost my mind.
Now, let me explain. The truck that jumped out in front of us wasn’t just any truck. This was a Tesla Cybertruck. Tesla Cybertrucks look like military tanks and when they were released in 2023, John thought they were pretty cool. This truck wasn’t something I would ever drive but definitely something I could see John driving and taking great pride in because, he was a Military Man at heart.
The funny thing is, I had never seen a Tesla Cybertruck in person before, until this day.
Of all days. The day when I made my first appearance in court and saw John’s killer for the first time. The day when I tearfully used my voice to speak for my son. The day when I heard more devastating information about my son’s murder and thought about the fear he faced that horrible day.
Yet, on this day, John popped up when I needed him most, with a wave to let me know he’s okay.
Yes, I believe our loved ones speak to us from the other side, so I excitedly told Ronnie, don’t be mad, that’s just John saying “Hi.”
The day after the funeral is usually the time to exhale. You’re still grieving but now you can catch your breath because all the arduous work of planning and attending the funeral has come to an end.
Out of town guests prepare to go back home and after all the hugs goodbye, you can sit down and decompress from the emotional war that’s been going on inside your heart and mind.
But, for me, there is no rest for the weary.
I have to attend ‘Miller the Killers’ bond hearing at 9am. Today, I’ll have to look him in the face for the first time. I have so many emotions running through me I can’t even begin to explain how I feel inside.
When my sister, Cindy, found out the hearing was going to be held the day after John’s funeral, she and her family decided to stay an extra day so she could go with us to court. Of course I was very happy she decided to stay. I need all the support I can get today.
We left at 7:30am so we could meet Caroline, our Victims Advocate, at eight. I don’t know if Ronnie was driving like a snail or me being overstressed, but it seemed to be taking forever to get downtown to the courthouse.
I kept thinking “We’re going to be late! We still have to find somewhere to park when we get there, please drive faster Ronnie!”
But I kept those thoughts to myself. We were all nervous enough as it was.
We finally arrived downtown but were cutting it close, so I asked Ronnie to drop us off at the front while he parked the car and told him I’ll send a text letting him know where we are once we’re inside.
We exited the elevator and didn’t see anyone so we sat down outside of the courtroom hoping Caroline would soon appear. I had no idea what she looked like as we’ve only spoken on the phone.
After a few moments, Caroline came around the corner, called my name, and I responded. She greeted me and then led us to a small conference room attached to the courtroom, opened the door and sat down at the small table. I told her my husband was parking the car so I would like to wait until he’s here before we begin. Around five minutes later, Ronnie let me know he was in the building, and I gave him directions to the conference room.
Ronnie entered the room and after exchanging pleasantries, she began to explain what would happen in court today.
“What are your thoughts about bail?” She asked.
Ronnie immediately said, “No bail.”
She nodded and said, “I understand that’s what you would like but the Judge most likely won’t grant that for this case, so I suggest we word it differently.
We can say “No bail or very high bail.”
To which he replied, “Okay, I guess that’s what we’ll have to agree to. You know what’s best. But just know I don’t want him to ever get out of jail for what he did to our son.”
She then began to discuss the victim statement. “You can give your victim statement today” she explained, “but this hearing doesn’t determine guilt or innocence so the statement to the judge can’t address any of your feelings concerning that. You can only address what you’d like him to consider when making his decision on setting bond.”
Caroline let us know she’s our advocate, which means she has the right to speak on our behalf. She, and the Judge, both understand this is a very emotional time for victims so she would be willing to speak for us if needed.
Everyone who knows me knows I hate public speaking. I’m a shy, quiet, and reserved person who prefers to work in the background. Normally, I would’ve been okay with Caroline speaking on my behalf but today was different. Very different.
“Caroline it’s nice of you to offer,” I said, “and I’m not going to lie, I’m very nervous but I want to address the judge and make our statement. I have to do it. I am John’s voice now.”
She nodded her head, smiled, and said, “It takes courage to do what you’re doing. Judges want to hear from the victim. As a matter of fact, they prefer it. It’s much more powerful when the victim speaks.” She then gave me a few ideas of what to say.
It was approaching 9am so she said we’ll come back to this conference room afterwards to discuss what happened and she will answer any questions we have at that time.
We followed her into the courtroom, and I sat down in the first row in between Ronnie and Cindy. Caroline sat in the row directly behind us.
I’ve never seen Miller the Killer before, so I had no clue if he was present in the courtroom when we entered. The Clerk of Courts began calling the cases and we waited our turn. I was so nervous! I had cotton mouth, and my heart was racing. There may have been around five or six cases before I heard John’s case come up and they were all robbery and burglary cases. All felony cases but no murder cases.
The clerk then called our case and stated the defendant wouldn’t be attending court in person but via video. The video then popped on screen and there he was. I only glanced at him because I just couldn’t bear to look at his face. I saw an orange jumpsuit and the face of a barely legal kid trying to be cool. I noticed he still had acne on his face, and I quickly looked away.
The clerk continued and read a brief statement about the case and the charges. Then I heard her say, “the defendant Miller shot John Wilks in the chest two times, in the back two times and in the head, thus resulting in his death.”
My heart dropped. Did she said he shot my son in the head?!?
John was also shot in the head?!?
The detective didn’t mention anything about John being shot in the head! Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I began twisting my fingers together and looked down at the floor. This is horrible! You have to have a lot of hate in your heart to shoot someone in the head!
My son did NOT deserve that.
I didn’t hear what else she said after that but felt Caroline tap me on the shoulder letting me know it was time for us to approach the podium to speak to the judge. I wiped my eyes with my fingers and walked to the podium with Ronnie by my side and Caroline behind me.
The Judge said a few words and then asked who we were.
Ronnie cleared his throat and said, “Hello your honor, my name is Ronald Wilks and I’m John Wilks father.”
I then said with a trembling voice, “Your honor, my name is Shari Wilks. I’m the mother of John Wilks.”
The judge then said a few more words and asked if we wanted to give a victim’s statement about bond.
I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and said as firm as I could, “Yes sir,” My husband and I are asking you to set no bail or very high bail, please. The killer is very violent and a threat to society. We are fearful for our lives and believe he is a flight risk.”
I got it out without totally breaking down.
In the corner of my eye, I could see movement of the orange jumpsuit and when I looked over at Miller the Killer on the screen, he put his hand up to his mouth in a yawning motion and then he laughed at me. He actually laughed at me.
The tears started flowing again and the Judge thanked me for my statement.
I turned to walk to my seat and all eyes in that courtroom were on me. I could feel compassion coming from every face in that room. We sat back down for a second and Caroline instructed us to meet her back in the conference room.
I stood up and started walking, Ronnie and Cindy followed behind me. As I approached the door, a kind man in the courtroom got up from his seat, opened the door for me and said, “I’m so sorry”.
I mouthed the words “thank you” and made it back to the small conference room.
Once the door was closed I let it all out.
Ronnie hugged me.
Cindy cried too.
Caroline smiled and said I did a great job.
When I composed myself, I looked at Ronnie and said, “Now I know why John’s temple looked like that. He was shot in the head.”
And cried some more.
Farewell Sister-Mom
August 9, 2024
My sister-mom and family boarded their flight shortly after the hearing and it was hard to say good-bye. Cindy had been such a Godsend for me these past two weeks. I wouldn’t have made it without her but of course I understood she has a life of her own and it was time for her to go home.
So with a lot of hugs and yes, more tears, we said our farewell.
Cindy and Family on the airplane heading home- Zachary, Kevin, Kevin and my Sister-Mom
It was the spring of 1997 when my cousin, Angie’s, precious 5- year- old daughter, Angel, was struck by a car, while riding her bicycle, and died. I remember going over to my Aunt Barbara’s house with my mother and hearing Angie crying in the shower over the loss of her sweet Angel. It wasn’t just crying. It was something I had never heard before, a guttural wail that reverberated throughout the entire house. It still gives me chills when I think about it. At that time, I had no idea about the amount of anguish pouring from her soul. She had lost her baby and even though we tried to comfort her, nothing we could say or do could ease her pain.
I also remember on the day of Angel’s funeral, Angie sat on the corner of her bed in her pajamas, crossed her arms and said, “I’m not going.”
My first thought when I saw that was compassion for my cousin. I prayed for God to give her the strength to get through this agonizing day.
My second thought was, “You have to go, she’s your baby.”
My Aunt Barbara hugged Angie and gave her all the love and support a mother could give at a time such as this. Mommy and I left the room to leave them alone, and forty-five minutes later, Angie emerged from her bedroom with her funeral clothes on.
I tell this story to say, twenty-eight years later I totally understand why my cousin said, “I’m not going.”
Because it’s the final goodbye.
Don’t tell me,” It’s good-bye for now”.
Don’t say “It’s not forever because you’ll see him again”.
To be honest, that’s NOT what a parent needs or wants to hear when they’ve lost their child. It doesn’t make us feel better.
That’s not what a parent thinks about when they see their own child, no matter the age, lying before them in a casket.
All you can think is, my child is gone.
Gone.
I will never hear John’s voice again. I will never see his beautiful smile. He won’t be around to irritate me with the little things he did or be able to stop by my house to sit with us and laugh for a little while.
He’s gone.
His funeral is today, and I don’t want to go either.
I don’t want to do this, but I know I have to go, so I muster the strength to get out of bed and take a shower. I stand in the shower and cry. Not the guttural wails like my cousins from many years ago, but quiet sobs as the warm water hits my face.
Showers of sobs.
“I wish my cousin Angie was here so I could talk to her right now” I thought, “she would understand my pain.”
Sadly, Angie passed away from breast cancer in 2004, seven years after she lost her sweet Angel.
As I exit my shower, I hear my daughter, Justice, taking her own in the main bathroom.
We picked her up yesterday evening so she could spend the night to make sure she wouldn’t oversleep. She’s also riding with us in the limousine to the church this morning, so she needed to be here when they arrive at 9:30.
Speaking of Justice, I haven’t said much about her because she’s been a little distant since her brother was murdered. John was three years older than Justice but they were extremely close. She always said, “We’re two peas in a pod.” She’s lost without John, and I can tell she doesn’t know exactly what to do.
My heart breaks for her because I don’t know what to do to help her through this. Of course, I give her plenty of hugs and tell her how much I love her. I tell her I’m here for her if she wants to talk but she’s twenty-five years old so I don’t want to smother her. I’m giving her the space she needs, and I pray for her every day. I pray God will see her through this extremely difficult time.
I begin putting on my clothes and receive a text from my sister-mom to see if I’m up and moving along which I tell her, I am.
Cindy’s husband and adult children arrived yesterday. They’re staying in a hotel close by so she went to the hotel last night and will ride to the funeral with them.
After I finished dressing, I headed downstairs. Ronnie was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed and ready but feeling just as distraught as I was. I have no appetite whatsoever, so I drink some orange juice and ask if he wants something for breakfast. He wasn’t hungry either.
“Thank God,” I thought to myself, “I don’t even know if I could cook anything right now.”
The clock on the stove says 9:01. The limo will be here in twenty-nine minutes, so I call upstairs to let Justice know how much time she has left.
By 9:25, we’re all sitting in the Living Room waiting for the limo to arrive. No one is saying a word. We’re all just staring off in space. The limo pulls up and we get in. The drive is very short as my church is only two miles away.
The silence continues.
“God, please help us.” I pray.
We’re greeted by warm smiles from the church hospitality team when we arrive and are led to the doors of the small chapel inside.
My legs are starting to shake, and I grab Ronnie’s arm.
“I can’t do this.” I say to him.
“Yes, you can” he replies and pulls me closer, “Lean on me. I’m right here with you.”
We’re fifteen minutes early so Mr. Caliman, who arrived with John’s body, asks if we want to go in the chapel now or if we want to wait. We told him now because Justice missed the viewing yesterday and she wants a few minutes alone with her brother.
As I watch her look at her big brother lying lifeless in that casket, I have to look away. It’s too much for this mother to take. When she’s done having her moment, we sit down. I grab her hand, then I put my arm around her, she lays her head on my shoulder and cries.
At 10am on the dot, the chapel doors open and people begin to stream in.
At the same time, the video tribute for John begins playing on the monitors above him and I hear that angelic voice of Michael Jackson singing;
“Like a comet Blazing ‘cross the evening sky Gone too soon
Like a rainbow Fading in the twinkling of an eye Gone too soon
Shiny and sparkly And splendidly bright Here one day Gone one night”
I lost it and began sobbing at this point. I really needed to hear Michael’s voice right now. Sister Pam came through for me just like I knew she would.
“Thank you, Sis Pam,” I whispered, “thank you.”
Cindy and her family arrive shortly after the viewing started, as well as my granddaughter, Kammy, her mother, Tiffany, and Kammy’s maternal grandmother.
I watched my nephews Kevin and Zachary walk up to the casket, look at John for a few moments and quickly turn away. They were so close to John so I know it was hard for them to see their cousin this way.
As my granddaughter and her mother approached the casket, Tiffany paused and gave Kammy a loving kiss on her forehead, just the same way I kissed John’s a few moments earlier.
And, I wiped the tears from my eyes.
I quickly got up and stood with them in front of John’s casket as did Ronnie and Justice. Kammy needs as much love and support surrounding her as possible right now.
She had tears in her little eyes as she looked at John.
We heard her tiny voice say,
“I love you Daddy” and she placed her handwritten letter to him, with hearts drawn all over the envelope, inside the casket.
It was so heartbreaking.
The more people came to pay their respects to John and give their condolences, the harder it became.
Many who came to John’s funeral were mothers themselves and didn’t know what to say. All they could do was look at me with pain filled eyes followed by a warm embrace.
The video tribute continued to play to the music of “Gone Too Soon” over and over again. So many commented that this song is both beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. It was an excellent choice for such a sad occasion, but it made them cry even harder.
At 10:55 am, Mr. Caliman came over to us and said the service would be starting soon so now is the time to say our final goodbye before the closing of the casket.
A knot formed in my throat and my heart began to race because I know this is the last time I will see my son’s face.
I slowly stood up and approached John’s casket with family surrounding me. The tears just wouldn’t stop as I looked down on my son for the last time. He’s lying in this casket in front of me and I still can’t believe we’re here.
I leaned down and kissed his forehead and said, “I love you son. I promise to get justice for you. I promise to watch over and love Kammy with all the love I have to give. I promise to find purpose in this pain. I promise to forever say your name. Your death is not in vain.”
I also place a picture of me and John together in his casket.
I didn’t want him to be alone.
And with that, I buried my face into Ronnie’s shoulder and cried.
We sat back down, watched the casket lid slowly close and I whispered, “Goodbye John.”
The service began, the songs were sung and the eulogy given.
So much is a blur after the casket closed because all I could do was look at it and think about my son lying inside, however, I do remember, the message of Pastor Schultz eulogy to us; there isn’t a timetable on grief so don’t let anyone put one on yours.
After the benediction, the pallbearers were called to the front of the church to retrieve John’s casket, and “I’ll Fly Away” began to play.
As I walked behind the casket, I repeated what I told John before his casket closed.
“I’ll get justice for you John and will forever carry you in my heart.”
A decorative heart I received inside a sympathy floral display
When I left John in the chapel, I sat down with Ms. Davis to organize John’s funeral program before sending the final copy over to the printing company.
For some reason, I’m that person who always keeps a copy of the program from every funeral I attend.
It’s not a morbid thing to do. I keep them for not only memorial reasons but also historical purposes. The obituary in the program contains family history which I think is always important to remember and pass down to the next generation. There are also pictures of the deceased loved one when they were alive, and some photos can include them with additional family members. Funeral programs can really be a family tree at your fingertips.
Throughout the years, I’ve seen some elaborate funeral programs which contain multiple 8″x10″ pages full of pictures that show a life well lived. I’ve also seen some programs the size of a notecard with just a few simple loving words. I decided that John’s program would lie somewhere between the two. It’s the standard 5″x7″ double sided four-page program which includes his obituary, the order of service, interment information, words of thanks and a few pictures.
I chose four pictures and I’m happy to say I didn’t have any difficulty selecting them because each one gives you a glimpse into who John was and his proudest moments in his short life here on earth:
A most recent picture of John
John’s High School Graduation Photo.
The day John took the oath of military enlistment with his family proudly watching.
Ronnie, Shari, John and Justice
A picture of his proudest accomplishment of all; his daughter Kammy,
I also included the poem “The Broken Chain” along with this picture of John and Kammy because of its poignancy.
John and his precious daughter, Kammy
The Broken Chain
We little knew that day, God was going to call your name. In life, we loved you dearly, In death, we do the same.
It broke our hearts to lose you, You did not go alone. For part of us went with you The day God called you home.
You left us peaceful memories, Your love is still our guide. And though we cannot see you, You are always by our side.
Our family chain is broken, And nothing seems the same, But as God calls us one by one, The chain will link again.
Yes, my son, the chain will link again.
John’s Funeral Program
As we were driving back home from this very emotional experience, my phone rang.
It was my daughter Justice calling to say she overslept.
My sister-mom was right again. She usually is.
She asked how John looked.
I said “he looked very nice. They did a great job.”
I then told her we’ll pick her up later so she could spend the night and ride with us to the church in the morning in the limousine.
She said okay but before she hung up, I made sure to tell her I loved her.
I’ve been wanting to see him since the day he died and now I can barely move.
Yesterday I told my daughter, Justice, that the private viewing would take place today. I told her we would pick her up at 9am in order to make sure we would arrive at the funeral home by ten.
I began calling her at 7am but she didn’t pick up the phone. I continued to call every fifteen minutes but still no answer. Of course, as a mom, I began to worry about her.
Was she okay?
Did something happen?
What’s going on?
“This isn’t like her at all. I know she wouldn’t miss seeing her brother” I said to Cindy.
My sister-mom told me to take some deep breaths and assured me that Justice was okay.
“She’s probably sleeping and doesn’t hear her phone ringing. She’s grieving too.” she said.
I eventually calmed down and agreed, thinking maybe it was too much for her to see John today. Everything happens for a reason.
John’s daughter, Kammy, wouldn’t be going either. I discussed it with her mom and we both decided seeing her daddy lying in a casket two days in a row would be too much for an eight-year-old to handle.
So, it was just us three; Ronnie, my sister-mom and me.
We arrived at the funeral home a little after 10am.
I was crying before we even reached the front door.
We stepped into the lobby and were greeted by Ms. Davis who pointed to the double wooden doors and said John was inside the chapel but to have a seat because she first needed to speak to Mr. Caliman and then she would return to let us inside.
Ronnie and I sat down on the two chairs facing the double wooden doors. I looked at the small sign which hung on the wall to the right of the door and read my son’s name.
“John Leon Wilks”
The tears began to flow.
I cannot believe my son’s body is just beyond that door.
No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than Ms. Davis came from around the corner and said, “Okay, are you ready to go in now?”
Without hesitation, I said “No”
“I’m not ready.”
I sat there for a few minutes trying to breathe.
Ronnie hugged me and held my hand.
After a few deep breaths I then said, “Okay. I guess I’m ready now.”
Before we opened the door, Ms. Davis explained the tribute video would begin playing once we were inside so we could view it and if anything needs to be changed to let her know before we leave.
With that being said, Ronnie opened the door and led me inside. Cindy followed.
I looked down the long aisle and there he was, lying in that black casket with the beautiful spray of red carnations and white carnations with black tips place on top.
“Oh, John” I cried, “Oh John.”
I sobbed so loud, I’m sure everyone in the building heard me.
He looked so handsome dressed in his fatigues.
So handsome.
When I reached his casket, I did all the things a mother would do.
I rubbed his face.
I kissed his forehead.
I touched his chest.
I fixed his collar because it wasn’t lying flat.
I held his hands.
I said I love you a million times.
I said “I’m so sorry” a million times more.
“Why, God, Why?”
And I cried.
And cried.
And cried.
Ronnie held me in his arms as I said, “I can’t believe he’s gone! I can’t believe he’s gone!”
I was overcome with so much emotion I felt weak and a little dizzy, so I sat down.
Ronnie then stood in front of John’s casket alone and spoke to him, father to son.
I’m not sure what he said to him, but he stood there a long time, talking, wiping his face, and shaking his head in disbelief.
We still can’t believe we’re here.
Cindy stood to the right of me and was crying too. She rubbed my back, handed me some tissue and then pointed to the screen above where John lay as the tribute video began to play.
I cried ever more when I saw the very first picture with John’s death date.
I’m gutted.
“My son is gone! My son is gone!” I cried.
We then heard the music playing as each picture flashed before our eyes. I noticed it wasn’t “Gone Too Soon” as I had hoped it would be, but the thought quickly left my mind as I looked at the pictures and began to reflect on all the happy memories.
When I saw the last picture on the video of John and Kammy walking on that bridge at the end, I put my face in my hands and sobbed.
John and his daughter, Kammy
I looked at John in the casket and back up at that last picture of him holding his precious daughter’s hand.
“He’s really gone” I said, “He’s really gone.”
“It’s the end.”
We sat there with John for the next hour. Talking to him, watching the video, and reminiscing on the good times when he was alive. I wanted to sit there forever but I knew it had to end.
Ms. Davis quietly walked in to check on us. She asked if we were satisfied with John and the video. I told her “yes, you did a beautiful job.”
She then asked me to please come by her office before we leave in order to make the payment, and I also needed to go over the program before it’s sent to the printer.
We sat there for about fifteen more minutes just looking at him.
I then stood up, walked over to his casket, and kissed him on his forehead. I noticed the area around his temple didn’t look quite right and neither did his ear.
I sighed, kissed his forehead again and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow son” as I wiped away more tears.
It’s been ten days since John’s death, and I still can’t believe my son is gone.
This pain is unbearable. I’m broken in every conceivable way; mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
I told Sister Pam the only reason I’m still standing is because God is holding me up. He’s holding up what’s left of me so I can get through John’s funeral.
I’m mad, sad, confused, distraught and forlorn.
Why did this have to happen to my son?
Why?
I feel so guilty because I wasn’t there to save him.
He was such a kind and gentle soul. This is not the way John’s life was supposed to go. He was an innocent victim. A senseless act of gun violence took my son away from all who love him and robbed him of his future with his eight-year-old daughter.
I’ve always hated guns and now I hate them more than ever.
John should still be here!
As much as I want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and cry all day and night, I know I can’t do that because now I have to fight. I have to fight for John. I have to fight for justice, and I’ll fight until justice has been served for my son.
GoFundMe Update
August 6, 2024
The one bright light in all this darkness is that we reached our GoFundMe goal just in the nick of time!
$10,917 was donated to the fund and another sweet angel made an offline donation to cover the remaining balance owed to the funeral home.
Let that sink in.
In less than one week, family and friends from all over the world heard our cry and answered our call by donating over $11,000.00 to lay our son to rest.
Unbelievable.
I’m moved to tears as I write this.
I’m so grateful for the outpouring of love and support.
I want to thank each and every one of you for your contribution, including my Moonwalker family.
As previously stated, I’m a lifelong Michael Jackson fan and have been from the moment I saw him perform with his brothers as the Jackson 5 on the Ed Sullivan show in 1969 when I was just five years old. I’ve met many MJ fans over the years and those of us who have a deep love and devotion to him are called Moonwalkers. My Moonwalkers circle branches out all over the world. When the Moonwalkers found out my son was murdered, many provided not only the emotional support I needed but also financial support by donating to the fund.
I feel so blessed.
Special Thank Youto the Following:
My sister-mom, Cindy, for all you did in setting up and operating the GoFundMe account. I appreciate you more than words can say.
AJ aka andjustice4some on X (formally known as twitter). AJ is one of the most dedicated Michael Jackson advocates I know. Sadly, she also knows the pain of losing a child, so we share sisterhood in more ways than one. As soon as she found out what happened to John, she went into overdrive and began sharing the GoFundMe link far and wide.
My Moonwalkers Stationhead Family. You are truly amazing, and I appreciate all your L.O.V.E.
My Masterlife Sisters from First Church of God
Most of all, I thank God for holding me up and providing me the strength I need during this storm.
These amazing acts of kindness have shown me there’s still some good in this world.
We met with Sister Pam this morning at my church to discuss the details about John’s funeral service.
Pam is Bishop Clarke’s sister and responsible for handling all the funerals for First Church. She’s a very gregarious woman with a great sense of humor and made me smile the moment we sat down in spite of the tremendous heartache I’m feeling right now.
She apologized for having to reschedule our meeting and expressed her sincere condolences for the death of my son. She went on to say she doesn’t know how I’m standing because if it were her son, she wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. My eyes welled with tears as I said,” It’s God.”
After a few minutes of casual conversation, I began to feel less emotional and more comfortable, so she got down to business by explaining that First Church has a standard order of service for every funeral. There would be a hymn of faith to begin the service and two additional musical selections within the program. She then asked if I knew which songs I wanted in the program and I said yes, I wanted “Blessed Assurance” as the Hymn of Faith, “I can Only Imagine” for the second musical selection and “Precious Lord” for the third. I also wanted “I’ll Fly Away” playing when John’s casket is leaving the sanctuary.
She passed me a tissue as I began to cry, and I dabbed my eyes.
I then asked who would be delivering the eulogy because I knew Bishop Clarke was on vacation the entire month of August. Although Bishop was on vacation, he took the time to call me on August 2nd to offer his condolences and pray with me. That was so kind of him to check in on me during my greatest time of need when he should have been resting and relaxing but that’s how Bishop Clarke is. He truly loves his congregation.
Sister Pam replied “Our Youth Pastor, Rev. George Schultz will deliver the eulogy.”
I’ll be honest, while I totally understood, I was still disappointed Bishop wasn’t able to give the eulogy. His sermons are excellent, and I love how he not only preaches but also teaches within the sermon as well. He’s a very tall man with a booming voice but has such a kind and caring soul. As disappointed as I was, I knew I was still in good hands with Rev. Schultz.
It’s funny how things come into full circle. First Church of God Youth Pastor Jimmy Terry led John to Christ when he was a child and now the current Youth Pastor will deliver the eulogy. John always thought so highly of Pastor Jimmy and his wife Joyce. Sister Joyce was our beautiful Minister of music and had the voice of an angel. John had a crush on her when he was a teenager and whenever I would tease him about it, he would blush and say “Moooommm, stop it.”
In the middle of the meeting, I saw our associate pastor, Rev. Kelley, walking by the room. He stopped and popped his head in to offer his condolences. Rev. Kelley would be presiding over the services, so he said he’ll see me in a few days.
We continued discussing the program and getting the repast information for after the service which would be held at the church. Sister Pam then asked if we were able to give the pictures to the funeral home for the video tribute which I said yes. I then mentioned that the song I wanted to accompany the video wasn’t included on the list, so I had to pick a few other songs. She asked what song it was, and I began to explain I’m a lifelong Michael Jackson fan, so I wanted the song “Gone Too Soon”. She wasn’t familiar with “Gone Too Soon” and said that most songs like that have copyright issues which means they cannot be played in public without permission. She saw the look of disappointment on my face and said,
“I’ll speak to our music ministry director to see what I can do and let you know as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, that song means the world to me.” I replied
Before the meeting ended, I asked if the funeral home had given them any information in regard to the manner of John’s death when they were coordinating the service, and she said no.
She then asked, “Was John sick?”
I shook my head no, and the tears started to flow, I looked down at the table and said “John was murdered. He was an innocent victim and shot several times”
She immediately said, “Oh my God, Sister Shari. I’m so sorry.” and gave me a hug.
I just felt she needed to know.
After a few more words of condolences and encouragement, she hugged me again and said, “Be sure to check your email for confirmation about ‘Gone Too Soon’.” She said it in a tone which let me know she would find a way to make it happen.
Everyone has been so kind but all I could think about when we left was, I’ll be saying my final goodbye to John in just two days.
Caroline called a little after 4pm. She said the phone call will be a brief update on the case status and then asked how I was doing. I told her it’s extremely difficult right now but we’re doing the best we can.
She then proceeded to tell me the charges for the offender have been updated from one count to six:
Count 1 – Murder
Count 2 – Murder
Count 3 – Felonious Assault
Count 4- Tampering with Evidence
Count 5 – Tampering with Evidence
Count 6 – Having Weapons while under disability
She then said the second arraignment for the killer will be on August 9, 2024, at 9am. My presence isn’t mandatory but if I wanted to attend and make a statement to the judge in regard to bond, I could do so, or I could send a written statement for the judge to read.
She said she also spoke with the other victim and gave them the same information.
I paused for a moment and then asked, “What other victim?”
She replied with the name, and I then asked, “The woman found in the car after my son was murdered?”
She said, “Yes, she was shot as well”
I quickly replied, “I understand she was shot once and released from the hospital, but you need to research this some more because she’s no victim.”
To which she said, “Oh really? Let me speak to the Prosecutors and call you back.”
I hung up the phone and thought to myself, “Ronnie and I are the only true victims here. This is just too much.”
Thirty minutes later the phone rang again. I answered and heard her say “This is Caroline. I spoke to the Prosecutors and that person’s status has now been changed from ‘victim’ to a ‘person of interest’”
“As it should be.”, is what I thought, but instead, said “thank you.”
I told her John’s funeral is going to be August 8th, but my husband and I will be at the arraignment on the 9th to make our statement to the judge. She offered her condolences again and requested us to arrive at 8am so she can go over any questions we may have and explain what we should expect to happen. She reassured me that she was here for us and will be by our side at the hearing and throughout the entire process.
I thanked her and ended the call.
After I hung up, I said to Ronnie “I can’t believe we have to bury our son in just three more days and then see his killer on the day after his funeral.”
Glen Rest Memorial Estate’s business hours were 9am-4pm Monday – Friday so Cindy called them as soon as the office opened. We knew Monday morning is usually the busiest day due to the weekend, so we were happy to hear a live voice on the other end picking up the phone.
Cindy explained our situation and asked if we could schedule an appointment today to discuss their pricing plans. They were happy to oblige and scheduled us for 10 am, which would give us time to make our decision before dropping off John’s clothes at the funeral home at noon.
We were also scheduled to meet with Sister Pam at First Church of God to go over John’s funeral program at 2pm and I still had to speak with my Prosecutors advocate this afternoon around four, so I was hoping everything would run on schedule so I wouldn’t miss her call.
The unexpected death of a child is already painful enough but when they’re murdered, I can’t even begin to explain the additional trauma involved with having to discuss their death from a legal/criminal perspective. It’s as if John is dying over and over again.
I can only say, while I have the greatest sister and family supporting me, God is definitely the one holding me up.
We headed to Glen Rest shortly after Cindy hung up the phone. I hadn’t visited my mother’s grave in quite some time so pulling up to the front gate and seeing the beautiful landscape was like a breath of fresh air.
We were greeted by the Office Manager and sat down across from her at the table. She expressed her condolences and asked what she could do to help us. I explained the sudden loss of my son and that his funeral is scheduled August 8th, so I needed pricing information for his plot. I also told her my family members are buried here, and I would like to have John buried near my mother.
She asked if insurance is involved with issuing payment.
“No” I said. “John didn’t have life insurance.”
She then explained pricing is determined by the grave location with the most expensive being at the front of the cemetery and the least expensive in the back.
“My mother is buried in the front, and since we’ll have to pay for this ourselves, that’s out of the question.” I replied.
The only option is the back, or at either one of two cemeteries included in the funeral package I selected. I know the latter are the best choice financially, considering our predicament, but I just can’t go with either one of them.
John being in the back of Glen Rest is better than him not being there at all, I thought.
I’ve always planned to be near my mom but since John will be in the back, I’ll be in the back with him.
What mother wouldn’t want that?
So the decision was made and my spirit said yes,
Glen Rest it is.
Glen Rest Memorial Estates- John’s Final Resting Place
We left Glen rest and dropped off John’s burial clothes to the funeral home. I let them know I decided to have John laid to rest at Glen Rest. The office clerk made a note of it and let me know John’s private viewing will be held at the funeral home on August 7th. She asked what time I preferred and I responded around 10am would be fine with me.
I stood there for a minute thinking, I finally get to see my son again. This will be the first time since he died but I’m so afraid to see him like this.
The reality of John’s death is really sinking in now.
As I was walking back to the car, I received a phone from Sister Pam at First Church of God apologizing because she has to cancel our appointment today and reschedule it for tomorrow at 11am. I let her know 11am is fine and I’ll see her then.
I guess it worked out for the best because my mind needs a break and now, I have more time to decompress before I speak to Caroline, my Victim Assistant/Advocate later today. She’s going to call to give me an update about the murder case for my son.
I returned home from looking at the cemeteries and fixed a small plate of food along with some iced tea. I hadn’t eaten all day and knew I had to get something in my system in order to keep going. I took a couple bites but immediately lost my appetite, so I just sipped on the tea.
Who can really eat at such a devastating time as this? Food is the last thing on my mind.
I pushed the plate aside and Cindy asked if there was anything I needed before she headed upstairs to go to bed. Tomorrow would be another long day. She paused and said, “I can help you with the obituary if you want.”
I thanked her but shook my head no and told her, “this is something only I can do.”
“Try not to stay up too late. You can always go to bed and get up early in the morning to write it,” She said as she was walking down the hallway.
I was so exhausted, but this is something I needed to do right now.
I looked at the blank screen on my laptop and thought, what in the world do I say?
Thoughts about John
John is a leap year baby who marched to the beat of his own drum. He was a loner but cared deeply about those who he was close to. He was tall in stature with kind eyes and a heart of gold. John was my gentle giant. He was never one to pick fights but always the first to defend those who were picked on. Like most teenagers and young adults, many times he didn’t listen to the advice given and had to learn the hard way. As hard as it was for me, I, as his mother, had to learn to let him do things his way. I couldn’t protect him forever. He was his own man.
I didn’t want to create a long-drawn-out obituary, but I did want whoever was reading it to know my John, so I began typing, and backspacing, crying, typing, backspacing, crying and typing again.
God, this is so hard, I thought.
“Please help me God”, I said
Then I just started writing from my heart and it began to flow. I kept it as short as possible, thinking “less is more”. When I was done, I looked up at the clock on my stove. It was 3:33 am and I took that as a sign from John to be satisfied with what I composed and go to bed.
My son’s obituary read:
John Leon Wilks was born on Thursday, February 29, 1996, in Fayette County Kentucky. He unexpectantly departed this life on Sunday , July 28, 2024, in Columbus Ohio.
John was a member of First Church of God where he accepted Jesus Christ into his life at an early age. He was a gifted singer and self-taught musician, serving God with his talents, by playing the guitar in the Youth Choir, under the direction of Pastor Jimmy Terry and his wife, Joyce. Throughout his life, he spoke of them often when reflecting on his teenage years. He was a true enthusiast for gaming, nature and military history.
John wanted to make a difference in this world by doing whatever he could to make it a better and safer place. He attended Columbus Downtown High School and enrolled in the Law Enforcement Career Program. John was a proud graduate of South High School. During his time at Columbus Downtown, he took immense pride in being part of The Columbus Division of Police Explorers Program which introduces young men and women to the foundation of police work. John’s lifelong dream was to join the military to protect and serve. His happiest moment was taking the Oath of Enlistment as he embarked upon that journey. John’s calm presence, gentle nature and patient spirit touched the hearts of all he came in contact with.
John was preceded in death by grandparents, Viola Kelley Thurman, Eddie Thurman Jr., Willie Wilks, Jessie Nell Wilks and Leta Davis. Left to cherish his memory are his daughter, Kameelah Elizabeth Wilks; parents Ronnie and Shari Wilks; sister, Justice Wilks; birthmother, Kameelah Salaam, ‘Pops’, Perry Thurman, and a host of aunts, uncles, cousins, extended family and friends that will all miss him dearly.
