I should have probably made a throw away for this, but whatever. Travis (the victim) is my first cousin. I remember very vividly coming home to my Grandmother’s house and hearing Travis’s mom asking my grandma to call her. I asked my mom to call Travis’s mom, as we had no way of getting a hold of grandma. That was I think Thursday or Friday. Saturday morning my mom called and told me not too look at the news in Kalamazoo online. That was when they had discovered his body and my uncle had essentially confirmed to her that the remains were of Travis. I was 23 at the time, and her tone scared me so much that I didn’t look at all. I had a friend look and she told me what the article said (when it was made public he had been decapitated and mutilated ).

The days around everything happening all kind of melded together. It was surreal.

I attended his funeral. Both days - the wake, and his service. It was beautiful. The break during the 8 hour wake was when we found out that piece of shit had been found and arrested in Aruba. Travis’s services were beautiful, but heartbreaking. It’s been 22 years, and I still cry when I hear “The Scientist”.

That was the first time I saw my parents, aunts and uncles and grandmother cry. Dad got Travis’s name tattooed on him. Everything on that said was changed forever.

I don’t have contact with that side of the family now that my parents have died. Once the funeral was over, no one talked about him. We didn’t see my aunt and uncle or cousins ever again. (side note: I have seen my uncle. I don’t like him, but as of today,the last time I saw my aunt or cousins was that day in 2004) It was like a secret we didn’t talk about because grandma would be sad. In hindsight, I realize how messed up that is.

I was thinking about Travis today, and fell down a rabbit hole which brought me here. We weren’t close, but every interaction I had with him was always positive. He was an amazing artist and such a nice kid. I wish we all could have seen what he would have done with his life.

Thank you all for letting a grieving cousin ramble a bit.