THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 3, 1994 TAG: 9407010247
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Random Rambles
SOURCE: Tony Stein
LENGTH: Medium: 83 lines
Even now, four years after her son was murdered, Melodie Brown sometimes visualizes his casket in the sanctuary of her church. Her husband Larry says he'll not rest until the killer is convicted.
Two years after her son and his pregnant wife were murdered, Patti Zemaitis cannot bring herself to hold a baby. She can't yet put aside her grief for the grandchild that never was. Her husband Michael is bitter about a justice system he thinks is indifferent to the pain of victims' families.
The Browns, who live in Great Bridge, and the Zemaitises, who live in Western Branch, are members of the Chesapeake chapter of a group called Parents of Murdered Children. The group meets on the second Monday of the month at Great Bridge Baptist Church.
In a way, the two couples say, talking with other parents whose children have been murdered is one of the few personal contacts that gives them a sense of normalcy. They say that if they try to talk about the murders, most people change the subject. ``They're sorry for our suffering,'' says Melodie, ``but it seems to be a discomfort to them if we bring it up.''
The two couples talked with me the other night at the Browns' home. Melodie operates a beauty shop, and Larry is chief of the fire department at Little Creek Naval Amphibious Base. Michael is a civilian worker for the Coast Guard, and Patti teaches at Greenbrier Christian Academy. If their backgrounds are different, they share a common anguish and a common frustration. ``People don't like to talk about death,'' Michael says, ``and they really don't like to talk about murder.''
That's why the group is so important to them, the parents agree. At each meeting, Melodie says, there are usually about eight people. ``It's very emotional,'' she says. ``We gather to share and hopefully to heal.''
But healing from the sudden and agonizing trauma of the murder of a loved one is an infinitely slow process. Patti quotes the result of a survey: ``When there has been what you might call a regular death, the grieving period is generally a year. But when there has been a murder, just to start the recovery takes 18 to 24 months.''
The healing process for the Browns has been crippled by a central, grim fact: No one has been convicted in their son's death. A suspect was indicted, but the case was not prosecuted because of what authorities call a lack of evidence. ``I won't rest until the guy's caught,'' Larry declares, his voice soft but intense.
His simmering anger is even deeper than the death of his son. In 1971, Larry says, his brother Bill was killed because he knew something about another murder case. No arrest was ever made.
The two men who killed the Zemaitises' son and his wife are in prison, but Patti says her reaction has not been what she thought it would be. ``I don't know exactly how I feel,'' she says. ``I thought I was going to feel relief, but I thought about what I had lost. I felt pain for the families of the men, too. I feel a genuine sadness for them.''
Patti credits the group and Melodie's leadership of it with being a powerful force for recovery. ``But,'' she also says, ``I cannot imagine going through this without my personal faith in God.''
Beyond the pain the couples feel, there is a sharp sense of rage about the way the judicial system operates. They all feel that victims' families are unnecessarily shut out of the investigative process. Michael and Patti are angry about a particular slip-up involving one of the killers of their son.
The case was heard in Pennsylvania, where the deaths occurred, and one of the killers entered a guilty plea before his trial. Michael and Patti were only told about it after it happened. They felt they should have at least been given a chance to be there.
Another flash point for the two couples is the way Virginia's penal system turns apparently long sentences into short ones. Both the Browns and the Zemaitises firmly support Gov. George Allen's push for the abolition of parole. Yes, both couples say, they realize that means more prisons and more tax money. ``If they build 'em, we'll pay,'' Michael vows.
Ask the Browns and Zemaitises how they would like people to respond to them and what they say adds up to this: ``Allow us to talk about our loved ones. Don't be signaling us not to bring it up. Be willing to listen.''
Good listeners help. Time helps. But parents of murdered children are in a special place of pain and grief.
``Tragedy gives a new perspective to a holiday,'' Michael says, ``to any event that is normally joyous. For us, there is always sadness.
``People sometimes tell me, `I know how you feel.' They don't.''
More about the support group is available by calling 482-3934. by CNB