Criminal logo

Homicide or Suicide?

Based on actual events.

By Ashlie CrossPublished 2 years ago 14 min read
Like
Homicide or Suicide?
Photo by Taras Chernus on Unsplash

This is the longest thing I have written in a long time. But it’s nice to get it out and for others to hear Sam’s story too.

November 2002 3:30am

Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring.

Hello?”

(Trying his best not to sound like he isn’t worried and hadn’t been crying the last few hours, Sam started sobbing at hearing his mother’s voice answering the phone.) “Hey Ma, how’s it going?”

It’s going fine Sam, what’s wrong? Are you in trouble?

Sam starts crying “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know if I am in trouble, but I think I am.”

Sam, tell me what’s wrong, please! I’ve never heard you like this before!”

Sam’s mother was already wrapped up in anxiety and fear, by hearing the sound of her grown 24-year-old, strong, intelligent son, weeping like a scared child. There was something terribly, wrong and she could feel it with her entire being.

Mom, I got to get off the phone. I have had such a long day and hearing your voice is killing me right now. I just wanted to tell you a few things, in case anything ever happens to me someday, you have an idea of who did it.

Sam’s mother got instantly sick after his last sentence. Nonetheless, she grabbed a paper and pen and started writing. Sam was a good boy, usually. He had applied to go back to college, had a home, a girlfriend who was a little older with kids of her own. He drove a nice car, seemed to make decent money, and most of all he always seemed happy. But now, was a different side. A side that people were blind to. Sam told his mother about his involvement with drugs and the bad people he had been hanging around. He told her of the threats he had been getting, for something drug-related that had gone wrong. He told her the person's name and he told her marks to identify him. He told her everything.

JUNE 24th, 2003 8:00am

By Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Sam’s mother, Lydia, rushes to answer the door, in shock because she wasn’t expecting anyone. She opens it and there stands a police officer, an officer with who she was familiar since her boys always had run-ins with the police in town growing up.

Mrs. Hughes?” the officer asked with sadness piercing through their eyes.

Yes?

I hate to be the one here telling you this, but we were informed by an officer in the Chicago area, to notify you, that Samuel was found deceased early this morning around 6 am.”

The cop couldn’t even look Lydia in the eyes, and she stood there with tears falling down her face, in a state of shock and disbelief. Sam’s whole life flashed before her eyes, from the time she found out she was pregnant, to his first tooth coming in, his first baby steps, his first words…to losing his two front teeth and swinging on tire swings…to school years and girls, wrestling and birthdays, being crowned homecoming king, graduation, college…then to an image of him lying dead somewhere.

What happened, how did it happen. Not my Sammy!

By this point, Lydia’s husband, Mark(who was Sam’s stepdad), had come to the door. He took over talking to the cop, Lydia sat on the couch, uncontrollably sobbing, yet trying to be quiet enough to hear what the cop is saying. All she could hear was something about broken glass and fire. At this point, she is thinking a terrible accident occurred.

Mark shuts the door and walks over to Lydia, he cries with her as he holds her.

They said it was suicide, Lydia. The cop from Chicago called and gave the police here all of the information, he was the first one on the scene. They said he locked himself in his bedroom on the 2nd story floor. He gathered all of his clothes from the closet and set them on fire in the middle of the bed. He knotted and tied bedsheets together, threw it out the window, and climbed outside. He went to the glass patio door and it was locked, so he punched it and glass shattered everywhere. His girlfriend and her son were sleeping on the couch. His girlfriend said he pointed the trigger at her, then saw her son, and shot himself in front of them.”

Lydia couldn’t even reply to any of what Mark just told her. She could not believe it. Why would Sam do this? And in front of a child? This wasn’t like Sam. And why would he start a fire, just to climb back outside, then punch glass doors to get back inside, just to shoot himself? She couldn’t think any further than that with all of her emotions out of line, but it was something she would revisit later.

After Sam’s funeral, Lydia couldn’t collect all of the thoughts that were running through her head. But she started to wonder about all of the things he told her on the phone that late-night he called her crying. She started thinking also, that things weren’t adding up. Sam’s girlfriend had barely said anything to Lydia at the funeral, besides the point, nobody could even get close to her to talk to her if they wanted to. She came to the funeral surrounded by four big men, who looked like they belonged in a gang of some sort. Lydia tried to get Sam’s car and nobody could tell her where it went. She called everywhere in the surrounding area of Chicago where he lived, looking for Sam’s car, she spoke to the police, called impound places, everything. She got nowhere and no one was of any help. Sam’s girlfriend wasn’t returning her phone calls. Lydia was left in the dark to deal with her sons….suicide?

When Sam’s autopsy report came back, his right hand was broken. Gunshot wound to the left side of his head. A lot of swelling and trauma to his head, obviously. And ruled a suicide. Case closed.

Lydia started to wonder how Sam was able to shoot himself with his left hand when he is right-handed. She didn’t know much about guns. Then she remembered, his right hand was broken from punching the glass patio doors. But she always questioned, with your dominant hand being broken, if you were able to shoot with your left hand if it is aimed at your head, wouldn’t the blast kick your hand back, to where it would jerk more upward, and not be directly at your temple? She also didn’t notice any cuts on Sam’s hands. His right hand was broken and it looked nasty. But there were no cuts on his hands from glass shards, from punching a patio door. She then, considered the patio door itself. That is thick glass! Sam was strong, but could someone really punch a patio door and have it break into pieces everywhere? Lydia started looking for the piece of paper that she had written on the night Sam called her. She found it and she went to the police in her hometown. She told them she wanted to reopen the case and wanted to get started as soon as possible. She got a little bit of information and was going to attempt to reopen the case. A few days later a police officer pulled up out front as she was going to her car. Instantly, anxiety set in. The last time a cop came to visit her, it was the worst news of her life.

Good evening Lydia, I heard you’re trying to reopen Sam’s case?

Yes, I am. I don’t believe my son killed himself. I have sat with this too long. I am almost positive my son did not kill himself.

I understand that, I see where you’re coming from. I’m here because I just wanted to let you know since I’ve known you for years, that this probably isn’t a case to be messed with if you know what I am saying. I’m pretty sure it is gang-related, Lydia. You can’t mess with these kinds of people, and not expect to get messed with back.

What are you saying? Are you saying my son didn’t matter? That these people get to do this shit and get away with it? Are you saying I should hide like a little coward? Because I’m not gonna fucking do that! I want justice! Samuel deserves justice!

Oh, Lydia! No that is not what I’ m saying at all! I’m sorry it came off that way. I’m just saying, maybe you should think about it. Maybe wait a little bit. Let things cool off for now, then proceed. I didn’t come here to upset you, I just came here to…I guess warn you. I got to get back to work, I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself.

Lydia gazed at the officer and his car as he took off. This officer never steered her wrong. He had also known her boys their whole lives growing up, he had let them off the hook many times. He was intelligent and as far as she had known from experience, trusting. But how could she not pursue this and get justice for Sam? She didn’t care if these people knew what she was doing and that she was Sam’s mom. She didn’t care if they hunted her down and killed her. But Sam also had an eight-year-old daughter to think about before she stirred the pot. Even though Sam didn’t have her regularly, if this officer was telling the truth, she could potentially put her in danger. Lydia put all of her stuff away and buried the case along with her anger, sadness….and son.

JULY 2007

By Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash

Sam’s been gone for a while now. Nothing is better. Everything is worse. Lydia even ended up quitting her job as a nurse. Lydia’s daughter, Mara, calls her up and tells her about this psychic that is coming to town and how everyone says she is really good and how she wishes she would go with her and see if Sam comes through. Lydia has never believed in these things, ever. But she can see Mara is still grieving and agrees to go, to support her daughter.

Fast forward to the psychic visit.

Lydia is paying attention to things that she says. She doesn’t want this “fraud” to catch onto anything. She did find it comforting that this lady only knew their group by Mara at 4pm. She didn’t know Lydia’s name or Lydia’s other two kids’ names who came with her and Mara. She didn’t know anything.

Welcome, and might I add, Wow…there is so much energy surrounding your group here. Who are we trying to contact today? I have quite a few here to choose from.”

Lydia spoke up before anyone else had a chance.

My son, Sam.”

The psychic channels in Sam.

First off, he said it’s someone’s birthday today or tomorrow. He wants to tell you Happy Birthday.”

Lydia starts bawling. Sam’s brother Tyler starts bawling. And of course Mara and their other sister Lindsay start crying as well.

Mara tries to speak through sobs “Yesterday was my mom's birthday, today is Tyler’s birthday.

Lydia can’t believe her ears right now. How did this lady know this?!

Mara, he is saying something about onions and stuffing….ketchup and tacos? Does that sound familiar? Or bring up anything relating to you?

Mara starts laughing.

Oh my goodness. This has to be him. There’s no way you would know this! Yes, it is all familiar. Unreal.”

The story behind Mara, Sam, and food: Sam made stuffing for Thanksgiving one year, and Mara claims to hate onions. Sam loaded the stuffing with onion.. Mara ate 3 helpings of it before he told her there were onions in it and she about puked. Tacos and ketchup was also a thing he had taught Mara to do. She loved it and never ate a taco without ketchup afterward. She even showed her daughter how to do it too. It’s a family tradition that everyone gives them shit for. (Haha)

Tyler, he wants you to know, he heard you play his song yesterday. He is always with you.

Tyler doesn’t play Sam’s song often. But when he does, it’s on repeat for hours. Lots of emotions come into play. Lots of tears. It’s a very personal thing for this psychic to mention to Tyler. It made him believe though! And maybe Sam knew what he had to say to get them to believe he was there.

Mom, he is showing me his hands. And he is showing me cards, like a deck of cards. There’s a lot of energy coming from this. He’s rubbing his head. Did he get shot?

Lydia’s ears perked up at that last question. This lady had been right about so much, why is she asking Lydia if Sam GOT shot? But not as much as her statement of Sam showing her cards, as that was one of the tattoos all over this guys body Sam had warned her about in previous months. His possible murderer. Lydia had to be careful how she answered this, not to give away too much information.

Yes. He had a gun wound to his head.”

Mom, he wants me to tell you, he did not kill himself. This was done to him. And the scene was set up to make it look like a suicide. Cops were involved. They are the ones that covered it up. He wants you to know he really passed around 2am.

By this point, Sam’s whole family is emotional. The psychic continued.

He had money in his sock when he died. He says it was a $20 bill. And did he have a broken hand? He keeps showing me his hand.

Yes, he had $20 in his sock when he passed and the autopsy confirmed he did have a broken hand.

Lydia cried. She didn’t know how much more of this she could handle right now. It was so nice to feel reassured that her son was here telling them this, but she was feeling so many different emotions, she felt as if she was going to throw herself into a panic attack.

Okay, he wants me to tell you his hand is broken from fighting. He is showing me two rows of people who are angry and he is fighting them. It’s as if people are taking turns beating him up. But he didn’t go down without a fight.

How much more can a mother hear, about someone they love so near and dear? Or a brother? Or sisters? Or anyone at that? How do you try and handle that?

Mom, he wants you to know he is at Christmas every year. He stands by your tree. And he loves you.

There was more that was said, but these lines were the deepest. They confirmed so much with such little physical proof. How did this lady know this stuff? She had to be the real deal?

So if everything else she said was true, why wouldn’t everything she knew about the night of June 24th, 2003 be true too?

Something to consider:

Were there really dirty cops working in Chicago? Did people Sam was affiliated with killing him? Were the cops and these people connected? Or did he really commit suicide and everyone in the family can’t face reality?

Our answer:

We will never know for sure. We only live with what we have been told. We were told suicide by the police. We were told about homicide by Sam through the psychic. What do you think?

But another question is…. why should civilians be scared to go to the police? Why should civilians fear dirty cops? Or deal with unjust officers? It’s sad and scary to know that people could hold a lot of information in the palm of their hands, but the fact that they could possibly get killed, from a police officer leaking that information, or being affiliated with that information…what do you do? Who do you trust? Evidently… you don’t do anything…. and you never trust anyone. That’s what my family did.

THE END

This case was never reopened. Nothing else went any further. I believe Sam wanted to reassure everyone that he did not do this to himself and he wanted to tell his story of what really happened because he knew his family would eventually reopen the case, and maybe, just maybe, that could have been the wrong thing to do.

There were some things that were changed (names) in this story, to make it not so personal. But everything did happen this way…

*I Drink Coffee*

investigation
Like

About the Creator

Ashlie Cross

I am a mommy of 3 and full time college student ALWAYS trying to make ends meet.

I write a lot about how I feel.

How I want the world to be.

How I wish people were.

I write to release.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.