My Grandfather's Murder - The Purpose for my Passion

Not too long after my move to Ohio in 2005 tragedy struck my family. I was at a friend’s party and my mom called me crying. I couldn’t understand what she was saying to me at first, I told her to calm down then she hit me with a brick….”Your grandfather is missing.”

I immediately asked for more details. She told me he had been missing all day, he drove out of the Church parking lot to travel a block to his house & he disappeared. He never made it home. The family has searched high and low and couldn’t find him anywhere. The police assumed he just wondered off b/c he’s old, but with the fear in my mother’s voice and the connection we have as a family, I knew it was foul play. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t, as an only child I had to be strong for my mother. I told her everything will be ok, to clam down, and to keep looking and call me back once she hears something.

After hanging up the phone with her I called my cousin and friends back home, crying myself b/c I’m 1800 miles away from home, my mother needs me, and I can’t be there for her. That’s the worst feeling ever, she’s my heart, my rock, in her eyes I could never do wrong, and at the time she needs me the most I can’t be there. The depression sets in.

Days go by and still no sign of my grandfather. I’m absolutely broke. Working 60+ hours a week and broke. I go to my boss and ask if they could send me home on a “business-like trip”, she goes to HR and they make it happen for me. I fly into Houston, get a rental and drive to my roots, Hearne, Texas to comfort my mother. By this time it’s been over a week, and he’s still missing. He’s in his 80’s with no medication and battling the hot Texas summer heat. Although I hoped for the best, I expected the worst. We got news that his car was found in the woods by the old Hearne air base. The Texas Rangers swamped the area, hound dogs sniffed away; they head to the Brazos River, combed it, no luck. By this time I get to my moms, and quickly our roles change, I hold her in my arms and tell her God is in control.

The Chief of Police walks up to the house, he tells us they found him, or what was left. He was found at the air base, less than a mile from his home. Someone left the gate open which is supposed to be locked at all time from the public since it is still being used by private planes. He was highly decomposed, and lost the fight against the animals in the wild. We knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good, but no one could ever prepare anyone for that. You never think it could happen to you. Be blessed; love your family b/c the truth is….it can. We start planning for his funeral, but due to the decomposition they would have to send the remains to Dallas for 2 weeks to process dental work and confirm that it’s really him. Just too much for someone to go through. The worst part of it all is, knowing he suffered. Knowing he had to fight for his life. Knowing he was out there hopeless. Knowing he felt fear, pain, and anger and that he knew his killer.

Hearne is a very small town with a population that’s less than 5000 and is 48% Black. Everyone knows everyone, and is connected in some way, leaving me angry, confused, and confident that he knew his killer. In a place so small and connected my grandfather’s case should be solved by now. Do I blame the Police, partially? They finally get a chance to do their job and they fail. A crime like that is too mature for a small town cop. All they’re used to doing is giving speed tickets to travelers on HWY 6 or convicting innocent people during random drug busts used to get government funding. So I know a lot of forensic details were overlooked. They’ve had leads, but they all passed the lie detector test. When you look at an old Black man getting murdered in a small country town, you can’t help but play the race card. None of the cops were black, so I can't help but wonder - was there some racist prick that did this to him? Or was it another case of Black on Black crime?

Some knew him as Ray Foster, but to me he’s Granddaddy. My grandfather was a solider, he served his country well. He lived across the street from Blackshear Elementary School, the whole towns Alma Mata, the kids called him “Mr. Pretty” b/c he was married to a woman called “Miss Pretty”. For years, even when I was in elementary, he sold Laffy Taffy’s, Now and Later’s, Pickles, Bubble Gum and Soda 5 cents each to kids who crossed the small park to his house after school. A man who did no wrong, the only Grandfather I had. How do you forgive? How do you heal?

God has given me the gift of words and the ability to motivate and inspire people with those words. I use them as tools to spread the word about my grandfather's murder. That's why I call myself "PorsheaRae" - I speak to gain a support system that I will use to help solve his murder, so when I am introduced as PorsheaRae when speaking, my heart smiles because it reminds me of my grandfather Ray Foster, and my mission to solve his murder. It will be hard, but I am a fighter just as he was, I know God will lead me to his killer. I have the faith and will put in the work.

Granddaddy - I love you. I miss you. You didn't deserve to go the way you did, I pray for whoever did that to you. I hope you didn't suffer long, I'm sorry I couldn't get there sooner, but I got there when mama needed me the most. We got the watch you had on, and some of the cash the killer(s) left behind. Mama has it, I'm sure she put it up somewhere. You never wanted to put your money in the bank - didn't trust them - and if you were living now, I'd say that was smart! :o)

I know you know this, b/c I know you're looking down on me, but I've been spreading the word around for you! I will find them. I dream of you all the time, reflecting on the good times. But no matter how hard I try nothing will erase the feeling I felt when mama called with the news. I spoke at your funeral about how you gave back and how you fought your whole life. I talked about your character, your charisma, and your love. Thanks for letting me sneak and drive your car when I was little! That was our little secret ;o) Any who just wanted to drop you a few lines, to tell you I'm fighting for you and I know you're supporting closely. I can feel you near, Grandmama too! I miss her dearly, doesn’t seem like 10 years have passed. Knowing you two, you have gotten back together - handle your business - I'm not mad at all :o) I love you.

~P