

A Girl Named Sam
Sharlett F. Hunt
It was the height of the seventies when I started tending
bar at this small speakeasy, called Westgate. Carol Sue was
the manager and Rosie and I tended this busy bar, quite rowdy
on Saturday nights.
This girl walked in and right away I noticed a quietness,
somewhat of a sadness. Rosie and I were slinging drinks
and bull s--ing and I almost forgot about the lady with the
long brown hair and the big dark brown eyes.
The next night she was there, ready to go to work and we
were happy to have some help. We found out her name,
Sedera Shilling but folks called her Sam.
Now she was a worker and though Rosie was hard core,
being a biker, we all got along so well.
Sam could light up the room with her smile.
She smiled as a little child.
We would get off work early on Sunday nights and go to
the County Line Bar which was open, long after we had
closed. I knew Sedera was having trouble with her husband
as he had been a long time drug addict. She had a little
boy, Bobby, who she brought over to play with my kids.
I stopped going to the bars for some time thereafter.
Sam and I still visited and stayed in close contact.
One day there was no Sam.
She had been dating a man called Dale Hood and her husband
objected although I had tried to get her to come live with
me and my children. I am not sure who killed her. All I know
is I went to her sister's house and asked about my friend.
At the time they lived right in back of Publix, off Wabash
Avenue. The story I was told is that he apparently got back
on drugs and was threatening her. She called her dad and as
he came over, this man took a loaded shotgun and killed her
and then he killed himself. Little Bobby was there and saw it all.
Lesson I learned. I didn't know she needed help with an abusive
situation. When she smiled, lights would dance in her eyes.
Strange thing that I remember her as if was yesterday. I never
got over her death. All I could do was hug Bobby and tell him
it will be alright.
Today, she is one of my angels, an angel named Sam. Her son
is grown up now and forever will remember this tragedy that
happened through no fault of his.
I try not to blame me for this. But in a way, I saw everything.
I knew this man was abusing her. I opted not to get involved.
Now I am certain that I would.
Sharlette
My sincere thanks to Sharlette for permission to use her story.

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