Hey, Brenda.
When I wrote you on your 41st birthday last year, I said it was probably a little odd getting a note from me. By now, you’re probably used to hearing from me. It’s usually me asking you and my father for help with the book I’m writing about your life and untimely passing in 1991.
The first time I asked you two for help was a few weeks after my father died in August 2019. I was stuck at that point. I’d done about 40 interviews, tracked down thousands of pages of documents related to your case and driven all over Kansas tracking down information.
But I really didn’t know much about the man who ended your life. I struggled with that. Do I really need to tell his side of the story? Is that fair? I asked myself that often. Then, as I was reviewing notes from an interview with your parents, I came across a few lines from your mother.
“What do you want me to ask Jon Mareska, if he’ll talk to me?” I said during the interview.
“See where he’s at with the lord, for real,” she said.
“Would you talk to him if he asked to talk to you?” I asked.
“Yeah, I would because I think that’s what Brenda would want.”
During separate interviews, your parents and grandparents said you’d want us to forgive him. I struggle with that. I’m in awe of the fact that your father, an incredible man, spoke about this forgiveness at your funeral. I admire the compassion and faith your family exudes. That said, as a father, I think that would be difficult, maybe impossible, for me.
When I asked you and Dad for help a few years ago, that part of the story seemed impossible. Then, within days of talking to you both, there was a comment on my blog from Jon Mareska’s stepsister. I called her immediately, opening the door to dozens of interviews.
In the year since I last wrote you, I’ve more than doubled the number of interviews to more than 100. As humble as you were, you’d probably be surprised how many people love you. Many of your friends think of you often 30 years later. Everybody in Dover still misses you deeply.
As for the man who ended your life, I’ve received one letter from him. I’ve written him seven. I’ve spoken to his mother. I’ll keep trying, though I’m not sure if we’ll ever get the answer everybody wants: Why?
On your big day, I want to say thank you. This book about you has been an amazing journey, full of emotions ranging from sadness, to frustration, to empathy, to excitement, to the joy of getting to know someone I never met but who continues to impact hundreds of lives all these years later, including mine.
Happy birthday, Brenda.
I like this…..very nice. I would have taken flowers to Tracy yesterday (as I have been doing for years on the Sunday nearest Brenda’s birthday) but I haven’t been at church for quite a while. I’ve had cataract surgery on both eyes and am waiting to get my new glasses (hopefully this week) so I can see again. I had gotten them but it turned out the bifocals weren’t done right. So I’m waiting again. With astigmatism in my eyes, my vision is out of focus without glasses. I can’t see anything clearly up close. I have found a magnifying glass helps. I’ve used it for seeing my phone, computer, recipes or package instructions on food, and reading anything. I can’t, however, play piano very well holding a magnifying glass with one hand. So I will take flowers when I am able to return to church.As I had said in our interview, my daughter’s birthday is the day after Brenda’s. She turns 41 tomorrow. We usually did a “family” birthday party, but I do think Brenda had a “kids” party that Stephanie went to. Back in the days of Barbie dolls. My late mother-in-law’s birthday would have been today and her firstborn great-grandson arrived (earlier than his due date) on March 8th. My mother-in-law was in the last weeks with her battle with non-Hodgkins lymphoma, but she was able to put on her wig and some make-up and came to the hospital to see that new gt-grandson. She died May 4th. So you can see how it’s easy to remember March 8. I got my first Covid vaccine last week. Will be glad to get beyond this pandemic. Keep writing and stay safe. Nancy
Thank you, Nancy, and thank you for sharing those stories.
Thanks for writing about Brenda. She is my sweet cousin and was always kind. We were about a year apart and although I lived in Texas, we visited at least once per year and always wrote letters. I was in 6th grade that year and the moment of hearing of her passing has forever changed me. It’s something you just can’t get past. Anytime there is a missing child, it takes me back. 💕
Hi, Shanna (my wife’s name is Shana :)) … I’m hoping the book will be out this year. It’s written, working on the publishing part of it now.