When I came into the shelter for the day, there was a big story on TV that caught my eye. It was a shock to all of us at the shelter. Her name was Jewel Lewis-Hall. I didn’t know her, but so many people knew her: policemen, loved ones, strangers. Her daughters were crying on TV. I saw people embracing her family on TV. When the van hit her, it must have dragged her because her shoes were knocked off. It’s just terrible and shouldn’t have happened. The driver must have seen her walking.
On Tuesday, I overheard a policeman talking to a lady, saying, “I just saw her that morning walking to go to the store and play her lottery ticket.” I think they heard me say, “That’s sad.”
I heard she used to go out and feed the homeless. I wish to God I did know her. People said she smiled everyday, like how I do. She took care of her business, she didn’t mess with anyone. She was a nice lady.
I knew of her home. She had a bunch of pictures of Michael Jackson, flowers, and ornaments. She was a big Michael Jackson fan. Sometimes I walked past her house to catch the bus and her house always caught my eye. There was just something about her house. It made me feel happy.
They should open up a store in her name. Maybe a nice food store or a restaurant. They should open something to keep her memory alive on H Street.
