The Aftermath

I struggled with this post. I know that every social media site of mine has been monitored and analyzed closely for the past several weeks. The "Post Police" have been anxiously awaiting this since last week. And honestly, I didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

 
However, my whole blog pays homage to my authenticity. To withhold this would be to do a disservice to my readers and myself. Sometimes it is so very strange to live in such a small town, and lead such a public life.

Last week, I was fired from my job. In all of my working career, I have never even been written up. Not once. Still haven't been. 

 
My dismissal, rather terse, went like this...I had a print out of the post (shown below) put on my desk by someone other than my direct supervisor, and I was told to get my things and go. 

Of course, like any red-blooded human, I went through shock. It was a blow to my spotless work reputation. I felt shame, not for what I had done, but for being fired. I felt anger, of course. I felt saddness for the coworkers that I so loved.

In processing all of these emotions, I had these thoughts:

I do not regret my post. In the slightest. Not one bit. I am completely unremorseful and unrepentant. The only thing I WILL apologize for is my language. As my mama would say, it doesn't seem too ladylike.

See, I do not care if you live in Florida or Utah or Arizona...my post rings true. I do not care if you live in Atlanta or New York City or in Small Town, USA...my post rings true. I do not care if you are Democrat or Republican...my post STILL rings true. If your representatives do not represent the people they serve, VOTE THEM OUT. If they are only out for self-promotion, political gain, etc...VOTE THEM OUT. 

 
We, as Americans, have a constitutional right and responsiblity to elect officials that have the best interest of the people in mind...whether it be locally, for state office, or for national office. Even when coverage of politics becomes nauseating, it is important to not become indifferent. It is essential to do your own research of each of the candidates, and not just solely take others opinions or the media's opinion as fact. Sometimes, one vote has made all of the difference. That is our right and responsibility to both our fellow citizens and to those that will come after us. As Americans...we, as citizens and voters, are given a voice. 

 
I will never support censorship. The first Amendment guarantees my freedom of expression.

I have, and will always be, a proud American. 

As a young child, my dad taught me the importance of my American duties. He often took my sister and I up to the voting house with him. When he felt strongly about a candidate, he went out and campaigned for them. He felt strongly about term limits, and voting officials out when they became complacent. As I have said SO many times...my dad raised very strong girls with very strong convictions. 

 
This being said, I will not apologize for stating my personal opinion on my personal social media page.
 
I cannot fathom why my lowly opinion threatens some. I don’t even vote in the County that I worked in. But I stand, defiantly, in my convictions.

To those that I worked with closely...you have my unconditional love. I love y'all dearly. If anything good came out of my working there, it is simply that I was able to meet you. You guys have impacted my life more than you will ever know, and for that I will be forever grateful. Y'all were my lifelines.

To the individuals that sought to cause problems... Thank you. You have successfully strengthened my backbone and set my jaw. I will sleep easily knowing that I have stood firm in my beliefs.  I can hold my head high with dignity because I wasn’t fired due to my work ethic. Although you may have forced my hand; ultimately, I am destined for bigger and better things. 

 
As far as what I will do and where I will go...I have been offered a new, exciting opportunity. The future is looking bright, y'all!

Thank You

Today, I want to say “thank you” to my readers. I am thankful to each and every one of you who take the time to read my posts. The fact that you take a few moments from your day to read something from my life, means the world to me. In every post, I share a little bit of my heart.

And to those that share my posts regularly, I truly appreciate you more than you’ll ever know. Thank you for sharing my posts and expanding my audience.

Last week, I reached one of my small goals of the year… My blog has been viewed over 75,000 times.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

XOXO
Aleta Kaylee

My White Flag

Image found on Google Images

I am completely unfeeling in this moment. 

I have given all that I can give.

They have taken all that they can take. 

I’m void of any emotions.

I have fought the good fight.

I have given it my all.

I have not cowered to those who stood against me.

But I am done fighting.

I have decided to do what serves my best interest.

I have already done what best serves you.

I have been strong and served.

And now, I am tired.

It’s not easy being Joan of Arc.

It’s not easy always being a woman on a mission.

It’s not easy always being the one to stand for what is right.

This battle has not been easy.

Now, I look towards the horizon.

Now, I seek happiness.

Now, I seek peace.

Today, I wave my white flag.

Sirens

What I will always remember about that day will be the sirens. I am no different than anyone else who was sitting in Trenton that day. Working next to the Courthouse, I was at the epicenter of town…next to the one red light in the County.

Everything happened so quickly. The office scanner erupted with noise. My coworker got a call from her Paramedic husband saying, “lock the office down.” She ran to the door to lock it, as I called the Courthouse to have them do the same. I called my old office, just a few blocks North of us, and had them lock down as well. I called and messaged my loved ones and told them not to come through Trenton. We sat there feeling as sitting ducks, not knowing what was happening just a few blocks from us.

Siren after siren after siren flew past.

A young woman I recognized from church walked up looking lost. I let her in, knowing who she was. She had witnessed a Deputy stop in the road, jump out of his cruiser and take off running towards the chaos.  In the process, he had lost his phone in the road.  She had picked it up and wanted to have it returned to him.  She had been directed to our office.  She asked if she could stay in the office until what was transpiring had cleared. His phone rang and rang.

Sirens continued to flood by.

The first account that came in was that there had been an active shooter at the Sun Stop. Later, after seeing my coworker’s face after receiving a call…I knew the news wasn’t good. I got a message from a friend saying she’d heard cops had been shot at the Ace China. I prayed at that moment that somehow she’d gotten it wrong; and if not, that they were okay.

Sirens were still coming.

Neighboring towns were sending back up.

My stomach was in knots as we sat waiting.

After what seemed like hours, we got the call saying that the shooter had been killed and to shut the office down and go home.

A shooter?  In Trenton?  Even now as I sit writing this--nearly a year later--it seems surreal.

As we walked to our cars, in a daze, a girl we recognized ran past. She was notably upset. My coworker asked if she could help, she continued running towards the Community Center and said “I’ve got to get to her, she doesn’t know!”

Before I got home, my friend called me crying, telling me the names of the cops. She had worked closely with these guys.

I sat back dumbstruck. These two young men had just eaten lunch at our office only weeks before. They had been joking and laughing….so full of life. And now…they’re gone from this world?

I am still so angry. I’m angry that innocent lives were lost.  I'm angry that Noel's wife will have to raise their children without him being here.  I’m angry that Noel’s children will grow up without him. I’m angry that Taylor’s family and friends didn’t get to see him get married or have kids of his own.  I'm angry that their future was robbed from them.

That day, we lost our sense of safety. Something that might would happen in a major city, had happened here in Trenton. Evil took us off guard that day. I’m so angry that in one moment, we lost our Mayberry.

On April 19, 2018, that coward broke our hearts; but even in our grief, he couldn't break our community.

Though the days after were a blur, let me tell you what I witnessed in the aftermath...

No emphasis was put on the coward that did this.  His name was only mentioned a handful of times.  He received no media attention.  The attention was placed on our deputies, where it belonged.  He did not get what he had so craved.

Our community united.  We surrounded our grieving men in uniform, the families, and the friends with love. Our streets were speckled with “We back the blue” signs and “Thin Blue Line” flags.  Blue Ribbons were on nearly every front door.  We gathered together for the candlelight vigil.  Just the thought of the sheer number of people that lined the streets when our boys came home, and during the funeral procession, still puts a lump in my throat.  The funeral procession, itself, was the longest in Florida history...nearly 15 miles long.

The long line of Law Enforcement Officers bringing Noel and Taylor home.  Photo Credit: The Gilchrist County Journal.

Neighboring Counties honored Noel and Taylor the day of the funeral.  Photo Credit: Sara Spivey

In the days after, we celebrated the lives of the men. We honored these men. We cloaked each other in love. We supported each other.  I witnessed several counties send deputies and dispatchers to fill in for our own deputies and dispatchers who were mourning the loss of their colleagues and friends.  I witnessed restaurants feed these neighboring men in uniform at no charge.  What I witnessed was...love.  The richness of our community is something that could never be stolen or shaken by tragedy.

To those of you who have heard of us by only this story, I leave you with this plea:  Let our town not be remembered solely because of this tragedy.  Let us be remembered by how we responded during this tragedy.  Let us be remembered for our love.  Let us be remembered for our unity.  Let our heroes, Noel and Taylor, be remembered...and let their legacy of service and honor and duty live on in your life, as it does in ours.

Sgt. Noel Ramirez and Dep. Taylor Lindsey:  You are heroes and you will never be forgotten.  We will strive to honor your memory.  Rest easy.

 

Sgt. Noel Ramirez and Dep. Taylor Lindsey.  Photo taken from the Gilchrist County Sheriff's Office facebook page.

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I know that I have some followers from different states and different countries...and for those of you who are unfamiliar with this story, let me explain:  Trenton is the county seat of Gilchrist County, Florida.  We are a rural community.  The county has one red light and a population of about 17,000 county-wide.  On April 19, 2018, Noel and Taylor stopped at Ace China to have lunch, while working.  They had just ordered when a man drove past, saw their vehicles, stopped, and went inside.  He ambushed them.  The coward then went back to his vehicle and took his own life.  The coward did not know the deputies personally.  This wasn't an act of retaliation.  This was an act of unadulterated evil.  He was planning on not going home that evening, and he was hellbent on taking innocent lives with him.  April 19, 2018, he took two of our own.  We will forever grieve that loss.

Author’s Note:  There are times when I will sit on a post for months before I actually share it.  This has been the case for “Sirens.”  My heart was purely broken, and I had to wait until I was able to collect my thoughts enough to do it justice.  This is the finished product of about 6 months of planning and writing and re-writing it.

The artwork for "Sirens" was created by my friend, Chris Rogers.

#NoShrinkingViolet

Photo Credit: Jennifer Lazos

When you come from a rural area, it's not uncommon to be asked "Who's your people?" pretty regularly.

For those of you concerned with my pedigree, I want to answer this once and for all:

I come from a long line of strong, willful, badass women.

My Great-Great Grandmother on my Father's side had to restart her whole life after her husband died.  She lived on the Silver Springs reservation with her husband, Joe Darlington, and her three little girls.  Upon Joe's death, she and her girls were kicked off the reservation as they were not full-blooded Seminole Indian.  She restarted her life in a dirt-floored palmetto shack in Cedar Key.

My Great-Grandma Annie was a woman before her time.  Strong, outspoken, and quick-tempered, she was quick to tell someone just what she thought of them.  If there was a cause close to her heart, she would drive around the County collecting...and don't be fooled, she wasn't above strong-arming or shaming a local politician into donating to her cause.  She famously told someone that had high-hatted her "I was the first to slap your naked ass when you were born, and I ain't afraid to whoop it now."

My Great-Grandma Lois lost her mother at an early age and was married at 14.  She had four children.  She became a widow when her youngest was 6, and had to support them all by herself.

My Granny Doris can be found at the local nursing home.  She's sweet as the day is long...but cross her, and she'll give a talkin'-to you won't soon forget.  She looks out for the underdogs, a nurturer at heart.  Loyal to a fault, if she thinks you have done something against someone she loves, you will soon catch her wrath.

My Granny Betty was one of the most loving people you could ever hope to meet.  But if you upset her, she would have you outside huntin' a peach tree switch before you could say "I'm sorry."  She married young, too, and earned her GED at the age of 59; the same year her oldest grandchild earned her High School Diploma.

My mama?  Well...my mama is a saint.  She is funny, witty, smart, sweet, and strong.  She was Valedictorian of her class.  She was the first in her family to get a college degree.  She majored in Micro-biology, not a common field among women.  She battled breast cancer with a vengeance.  When my dad was sick 18 months later?  She was the glue that held us all together.  Her strength is amazing.

If you want to know my pedigree.  That is my pedigree.  This is the blood that runs through my veins.  I am from a long line of strong, willful, sassy, outspoken, smart, revolutionary women.

I will not be quiet.  I will not cower.  I will make my voice be heard.  I am the descendent of great women.

I am no shrinking violet.

Ghosts

There are some days that I still have to bypass Trenton. I’d like to blame it on the beauty of the live oak lined road that I take to detour, but that wouldn’t be the truth. Your truck is no longer parked out by the road. That absence still bothers me after all this time.

Most days, I have to take the long way around, as driving past your house still puts a lump in my throat. It has sold…it belongs to someone else. Now, it simply sits as a structure with walls built of “what ifs” and a roof made of “could have beens” for me. Some days I wish someone would simply bulldoze it, so it wouldn’t taunt me; but others, I’m thankful for its reminder that you were once here with me.

That’s the thing about living in a small town. When a person leaves, that void is felt. It resonates through the community like the rippling effect of a stone skipping across a pond. Their ghosts still walk the streets, presenting reminders of themselves from time to time; leaving their loved ones longing for more than just a memory.

Dear Shitty People Of The World...

At heart, I’m a very forgiving, loving, caring, empathetic person…But I’m becoming increasingly disheartened, as the days go by, with the number of shitty people walking amongst us. At the current time, I’m trying exceedingly hard to not become jaded with this world.

I understand that, unfortunately, I am in a position where I see the very ugly side of people…and that has been a bit of a shock for me. People who I thought were kind, genuine people in the past, are now blatantly surprising me.

I have a few thoughts that I’ve been stewing on.

I am not passive aggressive…I do not do well with snide remarks, or back-handed comments. I’m what I like to call “Aggressive-Aggressive”….I’m pretty in your face. I’m not going to sit around and make catty remarks. I’m going to tell you what I’m feeling. Make me mad? You’ll know it. Upset me? You’ll know it. And I have more respect for someone who comes and says something straightforward instead of making me guess at what you’re beating around the bush about…..

Also, if you have something to say about me…come say it to my face. I hate to sound like a drama-filled, pumped-up middle school girl here…but here’s the deal: I am a 32 year old woman…I do not do well with idle gossip or catty remarks being made about me behind my back. I don’t have time for this nonsense. Got something to say to me? Say it.

Stay in your own damn lane. I pay little mind to what anyone else is doing. I hate to sound flippant, but I just do not care. And if I don’t care what you’re doing, you damn sure don’t need to be bothered up with what I’m doing.

I have ZERO respect for spineless fence-sitters. Take a stance. Take any freakin’ stance. I’ll have more respect for you. But to go back and forth across the fence, never making any decision? Well, I can’t muster up any respect for you. Sorry.

I don’t have room for any of the ones mentioned above in my tribe. I have been on a blocking spree this week with NO remorse. I would rather have a smaller circle than a big circle full of fakes.