Tom's brother was murdered last Wednesday.

Six words. Only six words, yet they changed the lives of a family forever. A really nice family, too, hard-working, good citizens, liked by just about everyone in their small town.

I wrote this Saturday night:

Tom's brother was murdered early Wednesday morning (which was Tom's birthday) when he and his adult sons were taking their stuff into a motel near Richmond (VA) International Airport. They'd had reservations at another place, but things had gotten mixed up and the hotel didn't have their reservation or a room for them. So, in the dead of night, they were going from motel to motel looking for a room. They found one at the Legacy Inn at Sandston, VA, just two blocks from the subdivision where I grew up 45 years ago. They didn't know that it's a terrible area now and that the motel has had police called there at least 80 times in the last year. Restaurants won't deliver food there because it's too dangerous. The management didn't care when people complained that their deadbolts didn't work (in fact, the door wouldn't close!). Gary and his sons were moving their things into their room at 12:30 a.m., waiting for a flight to a friend's wedding in Texas, where thankfully his wife and daughter had already gone. Four young black thugs, each carrying semiautomatic weapons, accosted the three men, ostensibly to rob them, but they shot Gary and took nothing. Descriptions of the young men and their car were reported (19-24, about 5'10", about 160 pounds, call the crime line if you have any leads), but this is so commonplace in Richmond that they'll probably never be found. Of course, the punks got away, but there was a witness who gave a description of the punks and their car (white or silver).

Gary died during surgery even though he was given 20 pints of blood.

They did not take anything from the guys. Just killed Gary and ran off.

His family decided to cremate his body after harvesting his organs, and the memorial service will be on Thursday, April 12. That's why we ended up staying in Florida until this morning. His wife is in seclusion with her children, her sisters, and her mother.

Tom's daughter is coming home with us and will go home next weekend.

God. What a nightmare. We surmise that it was a gang initiation, since all four were carrying weapons, it was at a low-rent motel, and nothing was taken. One of my dad's friends is a Richmond cop and has a good friend on the Henrico County force, so he's trying to get more info for us. (Note from today: Our school's resource officer said that we can get the report from the Henrico Co. police, but since it's an ongoing investigation, it will take a while.)

Tom is ready to go hunting in Richmond.

On top of it all, we had a hell of a time getting in touch with any other family member. We had just gotten to Ft. Lauderdale, to Donna's house, when her brother called to ask where their dad was, they'd been trying to reach him all morning. We hadn't told Tom's family, except Donna, where we'd be, and we didn't know that Gary and his family were going to Texas. (Another note: We've since all exchanged cell phone numbers. This is a good idea for everyone.)

This afternoon, Saturday, I received FOUR voice messages from Tom's family, increasingly anxious, all of which had been left on WEDNESDAY, and NTELOS hadn't bothered to deliver them till this afternoon. I called NTELOS and left them a piece of my mind, which I can't afford to lose. I'd just signed a two-year contract with them, and they dropped the ball on something as important as this.

The "customer service" guy's reply? "We can't help this; when you're out of your home area, you have to turn off the phone to reset it, then the messages will come through. I can put you through to our automated survey; we take those comments seriously." So I guess my comments to the "c. s." guy weren't taken seriously. As for turning the phone off, we didn't turn it off for five days, afraid we'd miss a call.

So, happy Spring Break, huh?