My Aunt Alice

An early morning phone call was not that unusual in Jamie Driggers Charlotte, North Carolina home. Her father was a police officer and she had learned to expect the unexpected. As far as she was concerned the 5:00 A.M. call, on October 5, 1987, was just another typical call for her Dad. She does not recall if it was a long conversation or not because she had hardly paid attention to it. After all it was Monday and before long she would have to get ready for school.

Jamie went through the daily routine of attending classes, talking with her friends, and hoping she wouldn’t have too much homework. Even though it was Monday she was already looking forward to the weekend.

One of the things that Jamie had made a mental note to do before the end of the week was to call her Aunt Alice. They had not spoken to or seen each other since the summer. Two nights before Jamie had dreamt about Alice and she took that as a sign to contact her.

Even at an early age Jaime was somewhat intuitive. Throughout the school day she recalls having a weird feeling about the phone call that morning. She didn't know what it was and couldn't explain it. It just kept coming back into her mind. She made it a point never to ask her Dad about his business and she wasn't about to do so now. As it was she would not have to ask.

Jamie walked into the house after school and went downstairs to her bedroom. She had just put her school backpack on the floor and was thinking about heading for the kitchen to look for a snack when she heard her father come down the stairs. He walked into the room with a concerned look on his face and looked her in the eye. “There’s been an accident,” he said.   Jamie stared at him. She had no time to think. The words came out of her mouth automatically. “An accident? It was Alice wasn’t it?” He father gave her a funny look. He was surprised by her question. “Yeah. How did you know that?” “I just had a feeling,” she responded. There is no good or easy way to deliver bad news. You may be able to think of various ways to communicate it, but in the end you just have to say it. Jamie waited to hear if her Aunt Alice was in the hospital and if so was she hurt badly. The fifteen years old girls life was about to change forever. Her father told her in the only way that he could. “Well - she’s dead. And it might not be an accident.”

Jamie was upset, but not shocked - at least not yet. It was hard for her to process what she had just been told. What to do?   Where to go? How to react? Alice? Aunt Alice? My Aunty?

Everything started to close in on Jamie. She needed to be alone and so she left the house and started walking towards the woods that bordered the neighborhood. As she got closer to the secluded area - with each step that she took - reality started to set in. Finally her emotions erupted and she started hollering and yelling as loud as she could. Her cries - though meant to be personal - could be heard throughout the woods and back into the neighborhood. They sounded like some terribly wounded animal waiting for the end to come. She remembers “ beating up a few tree and throwing a lot of rocks.” The next day she boarded a plane - alone - and flew into the Bangor Airport for Alice’s wake and funeral. It was not a long flight, but it gave her time to think - to recall the memories.

Jamie had moved to Maine in 1980 with her mother, Rosemary, and her younger brother, Jason, after her parents had separated and divorced. Her grandmother, Frances, and Aunt Alice had gone to Charlotte to help them with the move. Once back in Bangor they stayed with her grandmother, grandfather, Aunt Alice and Uncle Mike until her mother found a job and an apartment for them. Even after her family was settled Jamie would still go over to her grandmother’s house after school and wait there for her mother to come home from work.

Jamie and Alice were eight years apart in age. For adults that kind of age span is not very important, but it is if you are in grade school or high school. It can make all the difference in the world. Rather than keep her at arms length Alice welcomed Jamie into her life from her very first day back. She looked out for her and took care of her. In fact, she was more of a big sister to her than an aunt. Jamie recalls that Alice “ did a lot more than she had to and she did it without complaining, or making her feel unwanted". That kind of gesture would come as no surprise to those who knew her because - Alice was just being Alice.

Being new to Bangor Jamie did not have friends. Alice helped her to get acclimated to her new life and surroundings and always let her stick around or tag alone even if she was with her high school friends. It would not be unusual to see Alice and her friend Andree walking to the Third Street Market after school with Jamie following close behind. Once inside the store the older girls would always go for the salt & vinegar potato chips. Alice always made sure that Jamie had something to snack on with them and if she did not have any money Alice would always buy her something even if it was just penny candy. Once back home all three would eat the snacks and watch General Hospital before doing their homework.

Jamie has some wonderful memories of her Aunt Alice, but the one thing that she will always remember is her smile. It was not painted on or faked. Even with some of the bumps in the road that can be encountered in life it was there. Alice’s smile was an outward expression of who she really was on the inside. Along with the smile was Alice’s love and concern for those around her - both friend and stranger. She always had the time to listen to others who needed to talk to, or to confide in someone. She knew how to listen and also when to offer encouragement or advice. Alice was the real deal and Jamie, along with others, experienced that first hand.

In 1984 Jamie decided that she wanted to move back to North Carolina and live with her father. Even though they were separated by distance Alice kept in touch with Jamie through phone calls and letters. They would still see each other for a few months during the year when Jamie would return to Maine and stay with her mother for the summer. Alice would occasionally suggest something that they could all do together and sometimes she would invite them for an overnight, or weekend stay with her at her apartment. Whether it was a day at Old Orchard Beach, going out to eat, shopping in Portland, or visiting L.L. Bean in Freeport they always managed to spend quality time together.

The last time that Jamie spent time with her Aunt Alice was during the summer of 1987. It felt good for her to be with the family again, but there was a cloud over the activities. Six months before, on November 30, 1986 Alices father, James, had died suddenly. With the patriarch of the family gone everyone rallied around Frances - mother and grandmother - to support her in any way that was needed. It was one of those instances in life that everyone knows will someday come and that no one is quite ready for it when it does.

When they said goodbye to each other in the late summer of 1987 Alice was twenty-three years old and Jaime was fifteen. Alice was a young woman out in the world with a job, responsibilities and a lifetime full of dreams to pursue. Jamie - now in high school - was quickly approaching the age where she would have to make some decisions about her life, but that would have to wait because she was busy being a teenager.

Jamie's thoughts were interrupted by an announcement for the passangers to prepare for landing at Bangor Airport.

Jamie was met at the airport by family members and was driven directly to the funeral home. She had been told in brief terms about the nature of Alice’s injuries. She didn’t know what to expect, but she was hoping that she would be able to see her aunt - one last time - to say goodbye. This would be a private visitation for the family only.

Entering the building she walked the down the hallway to a room. Outside the entrance was a metal stand with a silver plaque that had black felt and white letters. She read the name on it - Alice Hawkes.

Walking into the room she saw an open casket surrounded by flowers. She could see Alice’s face and the upper part of her body that was raised up on a slight angle. It looked like she was sleeping. Jamie walked closer. She had been to funerals before and she knew - even at fifteen - how a dead person looked. She knew that the life had gone out of the body and that they looked different.

Jamie gazed at the face of her Aunt Alice. The smile that she had seen there so many times was gone - replaced by the undertakers attempt to make her look as natural as she could given the circumstances. Alice’s hair had been fixed and she had some makeup on. She was dressed in a sweater and a skirt that her sister, Rosemary, and her Aunt Gerry had picked out. Jamie studied her features. She did not look at peace. What she saw before her looked like a very traumatic stop to what should have been a long life.

Alice’s funeral, a few days later, was hard on everyone. Family and friends packed the church for the funeral mass. Many of Alice’s co-workers from the Maine Savings Bank had wanted to attend the services, but if they had been allowed to do so the bank would have had to close. Instead the bank was well represented by two of her co-workers, some of its officers and her supervisor from the Bangor Branch.

After the funeral Jamie stayed until the weekend and then flew back to North Carolina. She tried to get back into her routine, but it was not working. Her heart was back in Maine and she wanted to be with her mother, grandmother and the rest of the family. She ended up moving back in the summer of 1988.

One of life's coincidences occurred to Jamie in 1989. Alice had been a counselor at a summer day camp during high school. The camp had not been used and was - for all practical purposes - abandoned. As young people sometime do they congregate together in out of the way places away from the prying eyes of adults. One of those gatherings was at the old camp. A few of them - including Jamie - decided to go “exploring.” Once inside the building they saw that there was still some items that had been left behind. Jamie saw a cardboard box and decided to inspect its contents. She was thumbing her way through the stuff - mostly paper material with written notes - when she saw some photographs buried deep in the pile. One of them jumped out at her. It showed a group of smiling kids at the camp along with their counselor - Alice Hawkes. Jamie froze for a moment. What were the odds of this happening? What was the message it was saying? She stared at the photo and eventually put it in her pocket without saying a word. It belonged to her now. Later she would give it to her grandmother

After Alice’s death Jamie came across a gift that she had given to her in April 1987 for her fifteenth birthday - just sixth months before her murder. Jamie was the typical teenager and Alice hoped that she might find some benefit in a book that she had read called ‘The Prophet’ by Kahlil Gibran. She purchased a copy of it and mailed it to Jamie in North Carolina. It was hardly the type of book that one would expect a teenager to be interested in. After all it was written in 1923 and consisted of twenty-six spiritual essays. It is an easy read, but its depth cannot be overstated especially for those who want to ponder the deeper mystical side of life. Though not without its literary critics the book managed to survive and eventually resurfaced again in the 1960’s. It made its way back into the public spotlight in the 1980’s by those who were questioning and looking for more out of life than just materialism. It is a treasured gift from Alice to Jamie and as she says - “it’s like Alice knew I would need it later.”

Even after all of the years since Alice’s death there are portions of the book that still move Jamie to tears. One in particular is the essay on death. One line reads -

                “For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
                       And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides,
                       that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?”

Sometimes one can take pages to try and communicate a message about someone like Alice. Even though that was my intent in this short article I think Jaime said it best during my interviews with
her -

“I really can’t think of any person that she spent any amount of time with whether it be as a co-worker, or dorm-mate, or classmate, or friend. I can’t think of any person who didn’t feel touched in a special way by having her be in their life. And it wasn’t like she went out of her way to do it. It wasn’t like she tried. It was effortless with her - how she made people feel special by being with her - by being around her. She had this way with people where she truly cared and understood them. She loved life and I think that everybody could tell. It just sickened me that somebody could be around that type of person - to see what kind of person they are and then she could still be taken away that way. The last person in the world that you think of that could happen to just because - you know - who would ever want to hurt something as precious are her?”       Love, Jamie