July 29, 2024

News of John’s murder had already been released to the central Ohio area late last night by local news outlets and updated early this morning identifying him, so after contacting my family to share the tragic news, the next thing I did was announce it to the world.

I’m very active on several Social Media platforms, especially Facebook and X (Formerly known as Twitter), so instead of making personal calls to every friend and extended family member, I decided to post the tragic news on my Facebook page.

I’m also a lifelong Michael Jackson fan and have met many wonderful MJ fans (Moonwalkers) from all over the world, so announcing it on my social media accounts was the only way to let them know about John’s death.

It was the early morning of July 29, 2024; 4:00 AM to be exact. My husband, Ronnie, and I, were awoken out of our sleep by a never-ending loud pounding on our front door.

Our initial thought was John must have gotten into another argument with his girlfriend and needs to spend the night at our house.

Ronnie got up to answer the door. I then heard some murmuring in the kitchen downstairs. Usually after that, I would hear John come up the stairs, go to his old room and get into bed for the night to get some well-needed peace, quiet and sleep. But this time, Ronnie called my name and asked me to come downstairs.

I grabbed my robe and went down to the kitchen. When I got downstairs, I saw two men standing in front of the island. They introduced themselves as Detectives from the Columbus Police Department and asked if we were John’s parents.

Of course, we said “yes.”

Detective Jude proceeded to tell us John was in an argument with his girlfriend earlier that evening.

This was a common occurrence.

Ronnie then said, “Okay, so is he outside in your car? Does he need to stay here tonight?”

The detective shook his head and said, “No, I’m sorry to inform you, there was a shooting last night, and John is gone. He didn’t make it.”

What?

Gone?

Gone where?

Gone as in dead, gone?

I had to ask him to repeat what he said several times because I was still half asleep and not quite comprehending.

Was this a dream?

No, it was a nightmare that was all too real.

A mother’s worst nightmare.

My son was dead!

My son is dead?

I stood there in a daze and struggled to speak.

Ronnie stood a few feet away in total disbelief.

“Oh my God! No!” was all I could say over and over again as tears began to pour out of my eyes like water from a faucet. I honestly don’t remember what I did next but somehow, I was sitting at the top of the stairs crying uncontrollably.

Ronnie was crying too when he found me. He reached out his hand and escorted me back down to the kitchen to answer some questions from the detectives.

They began asking if we knew any information about certain people who were there at the time John was murdered but we didn’t. We only knew John’s girlfriend. He would complain about the kind of people she associated with, criminals and addicts. The kind of people John was never around growing up because we didn’t raise him that way. He told me there were times, in the past, drug addicts would come knocking on their door and he had a major problem with that. They had arguments for many reasons as all couples do and I know John wasn’t perfect. Some arguments were over who she allowed in their house from what I was told. Because of that, he never wanted me there and I didn’t want to be there either.

And here we are, John was murdered at that house.

My son knew what was best for me.

When I was able to think more clearly, I began to ask the detective for the exact details. They couldn’t tell me because the crime was still under investigation. I don’t even remember him mentioning the name of the killer, but I figured I knew who it was; an 18-year-old kid I believed was John’s girlfriend’s nephew who began coming over to their house three months prior to John’s murder. A kid who John said was “trouble”. Someone John didn’t want anywhere near their house or him.

But his girlfriend didn’t listen. She kept letting that kid come to their house and now my son was dead.

His innocent life was snuffed out, just like that. Murdered by someone who doesn’t value life. By someone who shouldn’t have even been there.

John’s life mattered!

Why did this happen?!

I didn’t have much time to sit and ponder why. Because John was murdered, and the next of kin had been notified, Detective Jude told us the news would then be able to update their initial story and share John’s identity with the public.

He advised us to notify our family and friends as soon as possible. We should tell them about what happened to John, not the news.

The detectives turned to walk toward the door.

“Wait” I said.

“Can we go see John? Where is he?”

Detective Jude shook his head and said “Not at this time. His body is being held at the Coroner’s Office downtown. The Coroner will give you a call to discuss everything, but his body won’t be released until the autopsy has been completed and you have a funeral home that can go pick him up.”

Again, the tears began to stream down my face as I said,

“But I want to see my son now! “He’s in a cold dark place all alone. and I need to be with him. I need to see him. I don’t want him to be alone! I want to be with John!”

Detective Jude said he understood but there was protocol that must be followed since this was a homicide. I was then handed his business card and told the Prosecutors would be calling me soon to discuss the legal process and to call him if I had any questions about the case. He reminded me again, to call my family as soon as they left because John’s name would soon be released to the public.

And with that said, they were out the door.

Ronnie looked at me in disbelief and I still had the look of horror all over my face. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of both of us. We hugged each other and cried for what felt like an eternity but in reality, it was just a few minutes because we had phone calls to make, and these calls were the most difficult calls I’d ever made.

The first call was to my sister, Cindy, who lives out of state. I call Cindy my “sister-mom” because ever since our mother’s passing from colon Cancer in 1999, Cindy has become like a mother to me. She’s my backbone. She’s my confidant. She’s my rock and luckily for me; after telling her the horrific news, she was on the next flight to Columbus.

I needed her more than ever.

I then had to tell my daughter and granddaughter (John’s eight-year-old daughter) what happened. I chose to tell both of them in person and these were the most heart wrenching conversations I’ve ever had, especially to my granddaughter. Absolutely heart breaking.

Ronnie then made phone calls to break the news to his family while I also called a few more people on my side as well, including my brother. Everyone was so upset when we told them. This is the last person we thought this would happen to. Not John.

I still can’t believe someone murdered my twenty-eight-year old son.

He was so young and had his whole life ahead of him.

And now my life will never be the same.