The Woman In The Weeds

Posted: March 23rd, 2011 | Author: Candice | Filed under: Collective Storytelling 11 | No Comments »

June 16, 1982 – a body was found in an abandoned lot near the corner of Putnam Avenue and Irving Place in Clinton Hill. Detective Dan Mills was the officer in charge of the investigation. He discovered the story of Carrie Williams, 22, a transplant from Mississippi, newly divorced with a young daughter in tow. She worked as a waitress at a diner in Clinton Hill called Mike’s Coffee Shop and was last seen having a nightcap drink with a coworker at Frank’s Cocktail Lounge before heading home down Fulton Street. She lived with her sister, Janie Franklin, a widow with 3 small children of her own on Classon and Greene. Unfortunately, the case was never solved and the family had to work to put the pieces of their lives with Carrie behind them. Amy Jones revisits the aftermath of the crime with the relatives and the detective for the Local blog.

Dan Mills. the case detective:

I remember when I got the call about it. It was early, like in the morning or something. I had been on the force about 6 or 7 years by then, working the homicide squad. Things were getting bad in that area then. Had to deal with all the stuff going down on Murder Avenue as they called it and Fulton Street was a bit of a rough area too.

It was one of those cases that always stuck with me. Getting called to a field when the sun’s coming out and seeing a bunch of people gawking at a half naked lady thrown in the weeds like garbage. It’s one of those things that breaks your heart you know? She looked so small there, innocent. I had to go talk to the family, the coworkers, the neighbors, and nobody had nothing but the best things to say about her. The city just chews people up and spits them out sometimes.

Vanessa Jefferson, the victim’s daughter:

Over the years, I’ve tried to remember what that last day with her was like. She used to work nights, but would get up to make me breakfast and walk me over to the day care I went to. That night, me, her. Aunt Janie, and my cousins Robin and Troy went to the movies before she had to go to work. We went to the big theater at Kings Plaza to see ET that afternoon and then she had to run off to work the dinner shift at the place she worked. I kinda remember all the commotion around the house the next morning. Aunt Janie sent me and Robin to go play, but we could tell by the way she was talking that things were weird. The days were a blur and then my dad came from Mississippi to get me. I started living with him and my Grandma Jefferson in Buford til we moved to Vegas in 1985. I would come visit Aunt Janie and my cousins some summers and I would be afraid to mention my mother. One time, I made Troy show me…where they found her and just cried and cried. Aunt Janie got really mad and I knew then that to not mention her would just be for the best.

Janie Franklin, the victim’s sister:

Just talking about it is painful for me really. I already have to live with it every day. The hurt, the sadness has never gone away for me, especially since the case was unsolved. They said maybe someone on dope just followed her, then attacked her. I never knew if that’s supposed to make it better or worse. Carrie had always dreamed of coming to NYC. She was just like my late husband in that way. Artistic people who knew that this was the place to be. I was always less ambitious, but I loved watching them live their dreams.

She was working at that place, taking care of Vanessa, and doing the occasional singing gig on the weekend. She had such a great voice. Reminded me of a young Aretha sometimes. She sang in the choir back in Mississippi and was always singing around the house. I think that’s what I miss most about my sister: her voice and her spirit. Life has been so…quiet without her.

Zara March, the victim’s granddaughter:

I always knew that something bad had happened with my grandmother, but my mom doesn’t like to talk about it. We moved here about 15 years ago, I was born in Vegas. My granddad still lives out there and he doesn’t like to visit. I hear them arguing sometimes about why she would even would want to live here considering what happened. I never knew what it really was until you came with all your questions. It made her and Aunt Janey drag out the pictures and tell stories. I was afraid to ask questions myself at first because it was kinda like when you’re chasing a fly and you scare it into flying away? Haha well I guess that’s a bad uh metaphor, but I was just excited to hear the stories and thought that acknowledging that it was out there would make it stop immediately, you know?

I like knowing about her though. It’s like a piece of me that was blank is finally filled in now.

Troy Franklin, the victim’s nephew:

I was 10 when…everything happened with Aunt Carrie. She and Nessa had come to where we were living then on Greene and Classon when she got divorced from my uncle Neil down in Mississippi. My mom had been in Brooklyn for about 5 years then, my dad had died in 1980, and Carrie and Nessa came in about May 81 I guess.

I remember Aunt Carrie really well. She was really funny. Born and raised in Mississippi but she had gotten rid of the accent quick. She was sharp and smart and could sing like an angel. She was always working and loved Nessa and NYC so much.

It really hurt my heart what happened to her. They tried to say at first that she was….that she was fast or something and that’s why she ended up the way that she did. She worked in a restaurant and didn’t really drink that much. Being older than she was now, I don’t see nothing wrong with a drink on the way home. I wish it wouldn’t have turned out like that, you know?

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