On May 11th, 1999 at 2am,
in Norfolk, VA...
a Vietnam vet, Pamela Barrett
doused with gasoline, and set fire to
her boyfriend's mattress in an attempt to kill Him.
We lived upstairs next to them, in the 2nd floor
of the 4-unit, 100 year old, all-wood home.
The ensuing blaze trapped all 7 living beings
living next to them inside of my apartment,
and killed 5 of them.
I was the "Momma" of the 5 who died.
Kipling, my 11 year old cat (at the time) and I,
the only survivors in our place,
lost everything when we lost them.
We had all been together, collectively, and so close,
for 33 years.
The shellshock was debilitating, and
three and a half years later, I am only
just now beginning to be able to see a light
at the end of the very dark tunnel
since then.
Why has it taken so long?
Because I, a year after this tragedy, finally
decided "it" wasn't 'going away' on its own.
I went in finally to seek help, and found myself in treatment for severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (or PTSD...common to Vietnam vets who suffered through traumatically-violent events), and which has been highly documented
in me since this crime.
The one
who committed the crime was 'one of our very own'...
a female Vietnam Vet.
It wouldn't be so painful if I had brought this upon myself somehow, but we were just innocent bystanders.....just unfortunate enough to live next to Pamela Barrett when she was "off her meds".
We brought none of this on ourselves.
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