Guest AuthorDo you remember where you were Nov. 6, 1986?
I do.
I walked into Chamberlain High School, in North Tampa, and over to my friend’s locker to wish her a happy birthday. I don’t remember the friend, she is one of those faceless, nameless acquaintances we meet in high school and soon forget. But I remember what she said,
“Stephanie Collins didn’t come home last night.”
The month after Stephanie went missing seemed to last forever. We held vigils. Posted signs all over town. We worried and prayed and cried and hoped.
We found out that she’d been murdered, and it took even longer to find her killer.
He was some poor, white trash scum – a serial rapist and murderer – finally arrested in 1990.
He was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death three times. The last trial was in 2005.
Time just dragged along … still we worried and prayed and cried and hoped.
On Oct. 30, Gov. Rick Scott signed the murderer’s death warrant. He will be put to death on Jan. 7, 2016. Finally.
Justice for Stephanie.
Everyone heals in their own unique way. Stephanie’s abduction and murder affected all of us, and no two people reacted the same.
Back in high school, our senior year conversations centered on how we’d react if someone tried to abduct one of us. We talked about what we’d do to her killer, if we could. Another girl from our class went missing a few days later, found near Gainesville, alive and well, with a terrific story of heroically and narrowly escaping her abductor.
Most of us panicked, thinking there was a crazed lunatic out there stalking Chamberlain girls.
Then we discovered that girl made up the whole story to get attention.
Some classmates, who barely knew Stephanie, acted as if they’d lost a sister. Others used her death as a cautionary tale and were more aware of their surroundings while out and about, alone. While some of Steph’s closest friends mourned her with a quiet dignity they thought respectful, others completely fell apart and took years to get themselves together.
All were affected.
Today, with most of my fellow Chamberlain High graduates on social media, the trend continues. I’m not on any online forums, but it doesn’t matter much. Friends tell me what they read and see and it’s almost like I never left.
Stephanie’s brother posted the news on Halloween, quoted in the newspaper as saying he, their mom and other brother were all ecstatic. Some classmates seemed excited and relieved, others sad and pensive. A few want to go to the execution to show Stephanie’s family that she has never been forgotten. Others posted lengthy diatribes about the power of forgiveness and the evil of capital punishment. Those folks believe a lethal injection lets her killer off the hook, while forcing him to rot in a little cell instead, suffering in misery, is a more fitting punishment.
I’d argue that, since being imprisoned in that little cell, Stephanie’s murderer has been able to meet a woman, fall in love, and get married. He reads books, exercises, watches television, and communicates with loved ones.
Misery, huh? OK.
It didn’t take long before arguments escalated, each person convinced their own way of mourning and healing was preferable. Nonsense. Each person is allowed to experience this news and react according to his or her own conscience, sensibility, and mood.
Personally, I’m relieved that after almost 30 years all the worrying, praying, crying and hoping can finally end. Our memories of a young, fun-loving girl taken too soon will be with us always. But I’m happy to let the rest go.
Finally.
Catherine Durkin Robinson co-parents twin sons, organizes families for advocacy purposes, writes syndicated columns, mentors kids, runs a few races, and at 6 p.m. on Jan. 7, her sons’ 16th birthday … she will think about Stephanie one more time and say a prayer for her. Again. Column courtesy of Context Florida.
