Diary for James Jarvis
Dear Diary,
Today was the worst day of my life. It all started with the dry fields. Earlier, I was looking at the fields and realized they were too dry, and that people should be taking care of them. Suddenly, I hear blazing sirens and I get worried. Two policemen come up to me and tell me that my son, my loving and caring son, has been shot and killed. I get filled with rage thinking: when will this ever end, who could do this terrible thing, and finally that how will I ever forgive them? Hopefully tomorrow I will find out who did this.
~ James Jarvis
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Dear Diary,
My wife and I went to Johannesburg today to see our dear Arthur Jarvis. Though he did not know, I just want to say that I cared for him and I always loved him. Even though we did not really understand each other, just remember I cared for him. We saw his dead body lying down, still as a stick with no life in it. Later when I go to bed, I just think about him, my son, who did not care for me. I share memories with my wife and we laugh and cry. But, we know he is in a safe place now.
~ James Jarvis
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Dear Diary,
Today was boring, sad, and quite relaxing. I go to my son's room, O Arthur Jarvis, my beloved son, and look at his books. I notice something very interesting. My Arthur admires Abraham Lincoln. A President of the United States-and I realize that we are not in that country, we are in South Africa. I find part of an article that my son was writing. One part I remember very clearly, "It is unacceptable to break up family life by housing only black workers but not their families." Then, I walk out of the room and into the hallway that my son was killed in. This one I am standing in right now.
~ James Jarvis
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Dear Diary,
I walk out of the house and go see my son. The saddest part of someone's life-the funeral. It is pack with all different kinds of people, all different races and ethnicities. People want to talk to me about the murder of Arthur, but I feel as though I am too broken in pieces to let a peep out about it. I do not know many people here, I just know that they care about one another, and that I am safe here. No more worrying, I can let that off my mind. I just tell myself to think peaceful thoughts, and that these people are here to help me whenever I need it.
~ James Jarvis
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Today was the worst day of my life. It all started with the dry fields. Earlier, I was looking at the fields and realized they were too dry, and that people should be taking care of them. Suddenly, I hear blazing sirens and I get worried. Two policemen come up to me and tell me that my son, my loving and caring son, has been shot and killed. I get filled with rage thinking: when will this ever end, who could do this terrible thing, and finally that how will I ever forgive them? Hopefully tomorrow I will find out who did this.
~ James Jarvis
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
My wife and I went to Johannesburg today to see our dear Arthur Jarvis. Though he did not know, I just want to say that I cared for him and I always loved him. Even though we did not really understand each other, just remember I cared for him. We saw his dead body lying down, still as a stick with no life in it. Later when I go to bed, I just think about him, my son, who did not care for me. I share memories with my wife and we laugh and cry. But, we know he is in a safe place now.
~ James Jarvis
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
Today was boring, sad, and quite relaxing. I go to my son's room, O Arthur Jarvis, my beloved son, and look at his books. I notice something very interesting. My Arthur admires Abraham Lincoln. A President of the United States-and I realize that we are not in that country, we are in South Africa. I find part of an article that my son was writing. One part I remember very clearly, "It is unacceptable to break up family life by housing only black workers but not their families." Then, I walk out of the room and into the hallway that my son was killed in. This one I am standing in right now.
~ James Jarvis
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
I walk out of the house and go see my son. The saddest part of someone's life-the funeral. It is pack with all different kinds of people, all different races and ethnicities. People want to talk to me about the murder of Arthur, but I feel as though I am too broken in pieces to let a peep out about it. I do not know many people here, I just know that they care about one another, and that I am safe here. No more worrying, I can let that off my mind. I just tell myself to think peaceful thoughts, and that these people are here to help me whenever I need it.
~ James Jarvis
___________________________________________________________________________________________________