Her name was Evelyn, and as near as I can tell, she was 22, although some say 23. She was a very heavy girl, so heavy it was a struggle for her to walk. She had poor skin and bad hair that often looked greasy, and above all, she avoided eye contact.
I tried several times to engage her in conversation, but she was very withdrawn and self contained; living in fear will make you like that. Evelyn lived in a shelter for women sometimes, sometimes she lived on the street. I have it from 3 different people that Evelyn was often the victim of sexual assault and sexual molestation and that she would trade sexual favors for a warm bed to sleep in, or give oral sex for $2 so she would have money for a coke or candy bar. (That is not a misprint: $2).
I also have it from different people that more often than not, she would be thrown out of the warm bed, or not be given the $2. After all, she could barely walk; what was she going to do to them? It seems abusing Evelyn was almost a pastime.
Evelyn ate with us every Sunday at Moore’s Square; quiet, darting glances, her greasy head down as she shuffled through line. You would smile or nod at her and she would look away, like a dog that had been kicked one too many times.
The last time I saw her was Thursday afternoon, about 3. I was on Fayetteville Street, eating a hotdog and trying to be warm. She shuffled on by, I waved and smiled, but she was not paying attention.
Evelyn died that night, a victim apparently of sleep apnea. I pray intensely that she is no longer afraid and that she now has some peace.
I am furious, I am sad, I am distraught. This girl did not live in the third world; she lived in Raleigh, North Carolina. While our pious citizens spend 1.8 million for a pipe organ, girls like Evelyn go unnoticed or, worse yet, ignored. You want to know what I keep asking myself? If Evelyn would have been allowed inside that church to hear that pipe organ.
You have probably seen her, walking down the street, head down, feet shuffling, mumbling to herself.
I thought you ought to know her name. Her name was Evelyn.
I will pray for Evelyn. I will pray that her life on Earth was not in vain. That she touched peoples lives in ways that we cannot understand. I will pray that she is at peace with the choices she made to stay alive. I pray that the people reading this will understand the true message and not get wrapped up in the details that only Evelyn could understand. I will thank God that she left us due to sleep apnea and not at anothers hand. I will thank God for letting her leave this earth peacefully in her sleep. I will thank God for sending you to be in her life for a short time. I am sure you touched her life without even knowing it.
[...] a year ago, I wrote a blog post about Evelyn, a person I met early on in my time in Raleigh, who would go on to die an unfortunate and premature [...]