KingTut
08-18-2010, 04:36 AM
I sat here this morning watching all the news reports of Peter Anthony Cantu's execution. Not given to tears very easily, and as a man I would never admit to it if I was, this morning I sat here once again and quietly cried for two innocent girls I never knew. All the local channels did a great job in covering this day. The Chronicle gets kudos too, for Mike Tolson's views as he spoke for us all, about the horror that left a permanent stain on this city.
In the late eighties I took-up jogging. I lived two blocks down from T.C. Jester Park on a quiet street called Del Monte Ln. A pretty little yellow house across from an Elementary School that I kept remarkably neat for a single man. Those were some wonderful days in my life. I spent weekends fishing the Galveston Bay Complex, sleeping in my vehicle on the Seawall each night, my kayak tied to the roof.
The rail road trestle that crossed White Oak Bayou in T.C. Jester Park was a land mark for everyone that used the park. It was the end of the jogging trail on a well traveled course on the south side of the park. Impeccably manicured by the City, it was common to see Houston sports celebrities pass by on the trail. The first time I made a complete loop around the park, the train trestle was my finish line and never being an athlete, I was overcome with pride as I sat down on the grass next to that train trestle and pondered this great moment. A land mark of a time in my life. A life of smoking, drinking, partying and now, I'm a clean and sober jogger in a park with the likes of Carl Lewis running the trails! That train trestle stood as a monument to a personal victory for me. A starting over of sorts. A milestone. Soon afterwards, a newer, cleaner, friendlier me met a wonderful girl and she shares life with me to this day.
But in the summer of 1993, the brutal murders of Jennifer and Elisabeth shocked this City and changed us all forever. And now that train trestle stands there as a landmark of sadness and sorrow. A permanent reminder of the true savagery our fellow man is capable of. We sugar-coat this life. Hiding in the clean, neatness of our homes. Running off to work each day with the hope that we and our loved ones will make it back each evening, safe and secure. Jennifer and Elisabeth did not.
I watched the website of Peter Anthony Cantu over the years. As he would try to reach out to anyone who would have him. Wondering when his day would come. I often thought of driving to Huntsville to stand a quiet, personal vigil as he lay on that gurney about to meet his Maker. I often wondered what it would be like when the time came. And the time came last night. Funny, I still don't feel any better about this whole thing.......
Rest in peace Jennifer and Elisabeth. Houston Texas will never forget you! NEVER!
__________________
In the late eighties I took-up jogging. I lived two blocks down from T.C. Jester Park on a quiet street called Del Monte Ln. A pretty little yellow house across from an Elementary School that I kept remarkably neat for a single man. Those were some wonderful days in my life. I spent weekends fishing the Galveston Bay Complex, sleeping in my vehicle on the Seawall each night, my kayak tied to the roof.
The rail road trestle that crossed White Oak Bayou in T.C. Jester Park was a land mark for everyone that used the park. It was the end of the jogging trail on a well traveled course on the south side of the park. Impeccably manicured by the City, it was common to see Houston sports celebrities pass by on the trail. The first time I made a complete loop around the park, the train trestle was my finish line and never being an athlete, I was overcome with pride as I sat down on the grass next to that train trestle and pondered this great moment. A land mark of a time in my life. A life of smoking, drinking, partying and now, I'm a clean and sober jogger in a park with the likes of Carl Lewis running the trails! That train trestle stood as a monument to a personal victory for me. A starting over of sorts. A milestone. Soon afterwards, a newer, cleaner, friendlier me met a wonderful girl and she shares life with me to this day.
But in the summer of 1993, the brutal murders of Jennifer and Elisabeth shocked this City and changed us all forever. And now that train trestle stands there as a landmark of sadness and sorrow. A permanent reminder of the true savagery our fellow man is capable of. We sugar-coat this life. Hiding in the clean, neatness of our homes. Running off to work each day with the hope that we and our loved ones will make it back each evening, safe and secure. Jennifer and Elisabeth did not.
I watched the website of Peter Anthony Cantu over the years. As he would try to reach out to anyone who would have him. Wondering when his day would come. I often thought of driving to Huntsville to stand a quiet, personal vigil as he lay on that gurney about to meet his Maker. I often wondered what it would be like when the time came. And the time came last night. Funny, I still don't feel any better about this whole thing.......
Rest in peace Jennifer and Elisabeth. Houston Texas will never forget you! NEVER!
__________________