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The call came on July 16th 2016. The call you never think you are going to hear. Marianne Johnson, my sister, was murdered by an inmate at the French Robertson Unit in Texas while she was working as a corrections officer.
I was the baby; Marianne was in the middle and my sister Margaret is the oldest. Margaret and I tried to make sense how Marianne, who we were told was so well loved by everyone, was gone
Going back three years earlier, my sister Marianne and I had an awful argument that would set in stone a separation that could not be repaired. Three months before she was killed her son passed away. I reached out to give my condolences, not being able to imagine how a mother was able to bury her child. But it was a brief conversation, one that held hardly any warmth. That would be the last time I would ever talk to her.
Because in July, that call came. There is no going back to fix any of it. No going back to be being sisters. It was all gone.
Going to her funeral, seeing our mother’s distress, she was now burying HER child. Our mother died 8 months later.
I’ve struggled with forgiveness and letting go of the separation between us. It was a long road, but I believe I’ve gotten to where honoring her memory is the most important thing. We are the ones left behind to make sure her children and grandchildren never forget her. Thank you for letting me get my story off my chest.
Leni Atkinson
Surviving Sibling of Corrections Officer Mari Johnson
Texas Department of Criminal Justice
EOW 7/16/2016
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