An Uncelebrated Birthday: The Murder of My Aunt Rita

I wished my aunt a Happy Birthday on October 31, 2007. We did not talk and laugh over cake and coffee this year as we used to. It has been 14 years since we celebrated Aunt Rita's birthday WITH her. For these past 13 years, we have only been able to say "Happy Birthday" at her grave site and the presents we bring her are flowers for her tombstone.

Aunt Rita was murdered in her home on October 24th, 1994. It was exactly one week before her 83rd birthday. We were making plans for her 83rd birthday party. It was to be much like her 82nd one. Her great, great niece and great, great nephew would help her blow out the candles on her cake, while Trick or Treaters would come and go enjoying their Halloween night. She enjoyed her Halloween Birthday very much. She always made the children in her neighborhood happy with her "treats" to appease their threats of "Tricks". She would always lighten up the children's faces with appealing compliments about their costumes. Her fondness of "Trick or Treating" and Halloween were taken away from her. All of her joys in life were stripped away when she lost her life at the hands of at least nine teenagers. Some of them in prior years had probably enjoyed her "Treats" on Halloween's past.

It appears that , on October 24, 1994, she was awake and enjoying her morning cup of coffee and toast when she was abruptly interrupted. Somehow she must have been tricked into opening her door. Her routine was broken on this particular day and unfortunately it was obvious that routine is what contributed to her death. You see, Aunt Rita always went to 8:00 a.m. Dality Mass at St. Rita Catholic Church. This particular morning, my mom attended this mass. She did not see Aunt Rita there. Several other parishioners who were also Daily Mass attendees asked mom if "Rita" was sick because she is always there. Mom told them she didn't know. As soon as mass was over, mom stopped by Aunt Rita's home to check on her. As she knocked on the storm door, she noticed that the wooden door was very slightly ajar. Mom called out for Rita but there was no answer. Aunt Rita's faithful companion, Petite, (her tiny Poodle) did not come to the door and bark as usual. Mom thought that maybe Rita had not heard her knock (she didn't hear well). Mom pushed the door open and stepped just inside. She called Rita's name. There was no answer. She went back out and peeked through a small opening between the garage doors to see if Rita's car was there. It was parked there. Mom went back inside and called out some more. When she still didn't get an answer, she stepped over to the telephone and called me.

As I answered the phone and heard mom's voice she sounded alarmed. She told me that she was at Aunt Rita's house but Rita nor Petite seemed to be there. She wondered if she may have taken the dog for a walk and fell or something. She asked me if I would come over and help her "look" for Aunt Rita. I assured her that I would be right there. My husband had just left for an out of town business trip so I didn't have him to go with me. You see, Aunt Rita's neighborhood where she had lived for 60 years had gotten to be a pretty bad area of town. I felt that I needed a male to accompany me and help mother and I look for Aunt Rita, so I told my daughter to call my son and tell him I was going to pick him up to go with me. He lived closer to Aunt Rita than I did.

As I turned the corner onto the street where my son lived, I saw him driving out of his driveway. We met up at Aunt Rita's. James, my son, had brought his Rotweiler dog with him thinking if we had to go out looking for her that "Rock" would be of help. Mom met us in the driveway and began to tell us the story of her morning's experiences. We stepped inside the house. At first, we noticed nothing unusual until we got to the middle of the room (her den/sewing room)where we entered the house. The television was blaring at the top volume level. We called out Aunt Rita's name. No answer! James and "Rock" began to slowly walk into the bedroom. At this point, Rock began to pull James to the closet. James kept pulling him back. I immediately noticed that in her bedroom a Heavy, Old, Chest of Drawers was moved from where it always sat and was now in front of her closet door. There were things knocked on the floor in the sewing room. A sewing basket that sat on the sewing machine was overturned and several pair of scissors were on the floor in the "opened" position. This site still did not set off an alarm in my head. When we found no signs that Aunt Rita might be in the house, I called the police and asked for help.

Before the patrolman arrived, my two daughters had made their way there with their babies. They could not conceive the thought that something could have happened to Aunt Rita. The girls and the babies waited out in front of the house for the police to come. They spotted a patrol car slowly making its way down the street. They had to step out in the street and motion for the patrolman to come their way. Finally, he reached them and they told him that we had made the call. As the patrolman walked up the driveway, James gave him the information that he would need. Aunt Rita's name, age, and the circumstances that we had all come to be there. He entered the house and we began pointing out some of the out of place items.

The patrolman asked James to take the dog outside and chain him up. James came back into the house and the two of them began to go from room to room looking. They finally came back into the den where mom, my daughters, and I were with the babies. The patrolman asked us to step outside the house so that he and James could do some more looking. I kept telling the policeman that he had to move that chest and open the closet. I believe that deep inside we knew that once the door was opened, our mystery would be solved but none of us wanted to admit it out loud. I believe that we were all afraid to approach that door for fear that we would be the one to find the inevitable.

We, females, went outside and waited for James and the policeman to come out. When they finally did emerge from the house, the policeman told us to go to my mom's house and wait there and they would let us know when they found something. I knew in my heart that they had already discovered our missing Aunt Rita, but we did as we were asked. Mom lived about 6 blocks away from Aunt Rita. Just as were leaving, my husband arrived. I was relieved to know that someone would be there with my son. What I didn't know at the time was; James and the policeman had already moved the Chest of Drawers away from the closet and the policeman had James open the door as he shinned his light into the dark closet. I didn't know until much later in the afternoon just how traumatic an event James had been through while we were outside the house.

After James and the policeman had found Aunt Rita (inside the closet) the policeman called in the crime scene. The house was swarming with police, investigators, etc. After all of this team arrived they sent my husband and son to be with the rest of us. After several hours, one of the crime scene investigators came to mom's house and talked to my husband (Wayne). Wayne had worked with the investigator (Ray) from the District Attorney's Office while he was employed as an arson investigator for the city. I had the task of calling family members and telling them the horrible news that their sister had been murdered.
The family (my dad's family) all showed up at mom's house to await news from the police regarding what had happened. The only thing they could tell us this whole day was that Rita had been murdered and shoved in her closet. They had no clues as to who had done this or how they made their way into her home.

It was almost two months before we found out that the police had a suspect. After they had gotten enough information out of this one suspect, we were called and told by the police that they were arresting 5 black males for Aunt Rita's murder. Months after these five were arrested and put in jail to await trial, one of the five made a plea bargain with the District Attorney. He named four more of the murderers in exchange for a manslaughter conviction that would carry a 40 year prison term. Those four were arrested. We waited for about three years before the first trial began. In that three years time, two more of my dad's brothers died. His siblings were becoming extinct. Dad had died in August, just before the October death of Aunt Rita. We often say that had she been murdered before he died, it would have taken his life. We were still mourning the loss of dad when Aunt Rita was murdered.

It was days before we could bury Aunt Rita. An autopsy had to be performed and the results had to be found before they would release her body for burial. We had to have a "CLOSED CASKET" because the funeral director said that they just could not do much of anything to make her look even close to her normal self. She was beaten so badly about her head, face, and neck that the bruising and cuts could not be covered up. We did not get to see her at all. It was totally impossible for the family to see her. This may have been a good thing for us because we all had to remember her from the last time we saw her alive. So, there are no memories of her lying in a coffin. A picture of her sat neatly next to her coffin at the funeral home.

After experiencing this horrific event within my own family, and having to have counseling myself, also my son, and one of my daughters; I see a lot of things differently now.

When the "Jena 6" mess came to light and the judicial system has been blamed for a two tier justice system, I became enraged all over again. Why did Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, Martin Luther King III, and all the rest of these racists have to get involved in this simple matter. No one came out and spoke about the INJUSTICE my Aunt Rita received at the hands of nine black males. Yes, Aunt Rita was a white woman.... and she was 82 years old at the time of her murder.... and yes, one of the nine that murdered her was 16 at the time and charged with First Degree Murder of a elderly person (which mandated no less than life in Prison). Cedric Howard, the 16 year old murderer sat in the court room as the jury was leaving to decide his sentence and he spoke out and said, "I want death, give me DEATH". Although none of the Jury members heard him, they obliged!!! They returned with a sentence of death by lethal injection. That was over ten years ago. Now, his sentence has been commuted to Life in Prison without Pardon or Parole because of the Supreme Court's decision to keep anyone 16 and under who commit murder from receiving the death penalty. They made this decision effective on all cases (waiting for execution, no matter how long ago). Now Cedric Howard resides in general population serving life. Following is his profile he is allowed to have on a website for Death Row Inmates.

{{{Cedric Howard

ALIVE e.V.
Voices From Inside

I want to introduce myself to you. First I am known by Cedric Howard. 26 years of age African American. I am 5 feet and 6 inches tall and my weight is 160 pounds.

I am looking forward to receiving a letter from any female. Her age, color, or creed makes no difference to me.

Love to write music and poems. I listen to varies types of music from rap, R&B, to heavy metal and country.

Thank you for taking your time to read this request.

Sincerely

Cedric D. Howard

Cedric Howard
# 382491
Louisiana State Penitentiary
Angola, LA 70712
USA}}}

In my opinion, the "Jena 6" was nothing compared to the "Kelly Street Nine"! How can justice be served when this murder has a "Voice" to reach out to women for friendship when he took the life of a lovely, frail, elderly lady. Rita Rabalais has no Voice..... She has no Life.... She has no breath..... because of the nine boys/men who took it all away from her. How can he (and any others convicted of murder) be allowed to request friendship/compassion/companionship from anyone?????
To Jesse, Al, Martin, and all of the Black Ministers, and entertainers, who stand by the side of the Jena Six, how can you justify all of the bigotry and racism that you are promoting in Jena, Louisiana. Why weren't you up in arms when my aunt was murdered by your boys??? Why don't you show justice before you get up and demand justice!!!!!!!!!!!! You have brought about a new Civil Rights movement (Al Sharpton's words, not mine). Well, all of us who are not of the African American Race would like JUSTICE ourselves. I want to be able to see the execution of Fredrick Gradley (the first of the nine to stand trial in Rita Rabalais' murder). He has had his appeals and we are and have been waiting for a very long time for an attorney to take his case before the Supreme Court. The reason it hasn't made it to the Supreme Court yet is because every attorney he gets to take his case soon finds out that it is impossible to get the conviction overturned. Fredrick Gradley CONFESSED to his part in the murder of Rita Rabalais. An appeal is unwinable and no attorney wants to come out a loser.

I would like to see Jesse, Al, Martin, and everyone else stand up for Rita Rabalais and demand JUSTICE be carried out.

Now you know why we could not celebrate Rita Rabalais' 96th birthday with a party like we did for so many years. Many milestones have passed since we have had the pleasure of her company. All but one of her siblings are now deceased, they will never see JUSTICE served for her. I sometimes wonder if I will ever see the day that JUSTICE is served.