Mystery of Monroy's Death

Not only am I overwhelmed by grief, I have had to begin investigating myself to find out what really happened to Monroy.  The police and fire marshall closed the case the same night.  

My middle son Andre had quietly taken over all of the official business and communication work around Monroy's death. He talked to police, doctors, funeral homes, family, halls, and financial people.  Without him I don’t know what would have happened. I simply could not do it.  I was pleased by Andre’s selfless, gentle, sensitive handling of this tragedy. And I was touched to hear him repeat “You’re the mother. What you want is all that matters.” 

Monroy’s live-in girlfriend of seven years, JennyMarie Farris, was at home with a friend the night of Monroy’s death. They saw smoke and ran outside. They saw that Monroy had gotten home and parked his car next to Jenny’s as usual. But the back of his car was on fire. And the overhead garage door was still open.

The two women ran back into the house to call the fire department. Jenny also called Monroy’s cell phone and other friends and family. Neither woman tried to go into the garage by the front side door to drag out Monroy or wake him up. (The fire was at the back of the car at that time, not the whole garage). Nor did Jenny pace outside the garage saying 'hurry, hurry my boyfriend might be in there.'

After six weeks of passive grieving, I had to begin to take action. I had been wondering why Monroy was so severely burned. Firemen from two different cities had arrived in six minutes. Yet Monroy had to be towed in his car to a garage where firemen sawed off the roof and two doors to remove him. He was burned into the car beyond recognition and could not be identified for days. 

I finally asked Jenny if she had told the firemen that Monroy might be in the garage. That is when I learned that JennyMarie Farris never told any firemen---neither on her phone call nor in person--that Monroy might be in the car.  (Yet jenny did tell all the other people she called that Monroy’s car was there but he wasn’t.)  Neither did Jenny’s best friend Jackie Brown tell the firemen when she called them or when she saw them. In fact both women TOOK OFF after the firemen arrived and went to Jackie's home for 30 minutes. They left Jenny's own garage on fire and left Monroy to burn to death.

 I felt like Jenny had stabbed me in the heart after she admitted abandoning and betraying Monroy.

 Monroy remained undiscovered by fireman until his friend Jason arrived. The fire was out but firemen were fanning out the smoke. Jason asked both police and firemen to see if Monroy was inside.  They yelled at him, “There’s no one in there.” Then Jason took a photo with his cell phone. But police immediately confiscated his phone.  He begged for it back and offered to erase the photo. They agreed. He continued yelling “Do your job. Go in there and look. My buddy might be in there.”

Finally the firemen pointed two large flashlights on Monroy’s car. Jason and everyone else saw Monroy. The firemen quickly turned off the lights and gathered in a circle with the police. Discussing how to cover their asses? Jason was alone in the alley with the terrible knowledge of Monroy’s horrible death. 

Jenny and Jackie finally returned to the home after Jason had discovered Monroy. By then Jenny had an army of family and friends with her to face police.

After learning of these suspicious behaviors, I learned that Monroy had been paying for a $100,000 life insurance policy with Jenny as beneficiary. What's odd about that is that Jenny told us for 6 weeks that she "thought" it was for $20,000.

The police and fire departments closed the investigation the same day, mostly based on interviews with Jenny any Jackie and other friends not on the scene!

Jenny convinced all investigators that Monroy was careless, lazy and drunk.  Careless because he left some pieces of flattened cardboard on the concrete floor. He had placed them under his previous car when he was trying to fix a leaking gas line. It spewed gas all over so he finally junked the car a month before. But he didn't toss the cardboard out.

 Lazy because Jenny "told him millions of time to clean out the garage." Drunk because every Sat after 4 hours of disk golf outdoors, the guys went to the tavern across the street. That day Monroy drank (and ate) from 3:30 to 6:30. No one saw or spoke to him from 6:30 until his car was seen in his garage at 9:30, burning. The guys said Monroy was "buzzed but not hammered."

 Lazy? Monroy worked 40 plus hours for 7 years supporting Jenny through two colleges, no fulltime work ever, two years part-time jobs, and lots of unemployment. Now that she graduated and finally found work, did she need him?  Lazy?  Monroy did side jobs for friends and family who begged him to. (Monroy was an electrician.) And Monroy played frisbee golf three times a week even in the winter besides doing home owner work etc.

 Sorry to go on and on. My son is dead.  No one knows why he didn't wake up when flames licked him. (He had no carbon monoxide in his lungs.) I'm not buying the simple--"he was drunk."   And no one knows why the fire accelerated like crazy in 6 minutes. And no one really knows how the fire started.

 Monroy had many very good friends.  Yet NO ONE BUT ME wants to know what happened, why the women left, and why Monroy didn't wake up. The level of passivity and non-questioning of authority is even shocking to me. One good friend said,

 "Monroy was a big, strong man who always functioned very well even when drunk. If someone as strong as he is didn't wake up, it was his time, it was god's will." Then he yelled at me for dredging up all of this horrible stuff—“it's not gonna bring him back”-- instead of just remembering Monroy's wonderful smile, jokes, warmth, carefreeness and cheerfulness.

Finally my son Andre ditched me too.  He said I have an "unhealthy" “unproductive” mission around Monroy's death!  Not even dead two months and we're supposed to just forget about his last little problem--on the second most important day of his life--his death. The one time when he needed a little help, he couldn't get it.  Actually Monroy had so many devoted friends in part because he never told them his problems. He listened to others and cheered everyone up. So why should he burden us with a problem now?

Andre also said it's unkind to Jenny to continue investigating "Jenny, the woman who Monroy came home to love everyday." (Jenny told everyone that she had wanted to live the rest of her life with Monroy.) Andre believes that Monroy might have died BEFORE the firemen could have gotten inside anyhow.

 Despite being his MOTHER and having a 40-year relationship with Monroy, my pain is apparently secondary to a woman who Monroy may have loved for 7 years. (But he flatly refused to marry or have children with her).

 My poor mom is 90 and grieving. (Monroy was her favorite grandson). I have been unable to return home. So I am staying with my mom. She has had to put up with my crying and sleeping and raging. She was my last supporter but finally ditched me, saying "it won't bring him back." and "How do you think it makes me feel to hear you talking about him being drunk?"

 Jenny’s simple-minded slander began to effect even me. I had to remind myself to remember the REAL Monroy working with me for hours both at home and at work—sober, upbeat, calm, competent and cooperative. The REAL Monroy at family parties drinking along with me, but always in control,  calm, cooperative and cheerful. The REAL Monroy discussing the problems of poor moms and kids like he cared and got it. The REAL Monroy bringing ladder and screwgun to the Mothers Organizing Center to install our beautiful mural.  Need I say?  The REAL Monroy cheerfully, super-competently, and warmly worked and waited between downpours, talking with about so many real world issues. The real Monroy -- sturdy, steady, solid while joking and laughing during all the hours of work. No drinks.

 To conveniently blame-the-victim, the REAL Monroy is being replaced with petty oprah-ish psycho-babble slander: irresponsible, risk taker, dangerous, drinker. At the same time he is also being deified as "the best human being I ever knew" with guys wearing a MXG (Monroy Xavier Gowens) patch on their frisbee golf bags or jackets and holding Monroy Gowens Memorial tournaments. Go figure.

So the question remains, What would Monroy do?  (Heh,Heh)  Should we care what really happened? And does it matter? While family and Monroy’s friends say I should drop the whole thing, some of my friends feel that as his mom, I must not give up.

 Jenny played "Monroy's favorite song" at his memorial--"Every little Things going to be all right" by Bob Marley. Somehow I can't imaging he feels that way now. 

Go to google to check out flicker fotos of Monroy Gowens with family and friends and read some of the comments on the diskgolf websites. Monroy competed nationally.

Pat Gowens