Changed Forever: Harrison County woman's death leaves mother with holes in her soul and with questions
By SANDRA CASON
Marshall News Messenger
Monday, February 05, 2007
MARSHALL — Harrison County closed its investigation into the death of Kelly Susan Prewitt with the receipt of a toxicology report. But for her mother, questions remain.
 Julie Lee passed by the spot where her daughter's body was found on Cypress Drive and never noticed her lying in a bed of monkey grass in front of a guest cottage just several yards away from the pavement in June 2006.  KELLY SUSAN PREWITT  The headstone of Kelly Susan Prewitt lays below that of her mother's, Julie Lee, and father's plot in a small community cemetery near Karnack. Ms. Lee said another plot near theirs was not available but the cemetery let her use the area at the end of their space. |
"Perhaps that was all they could do," said Julie Lee of Karnack. "Maybe I'm thinking like a mother, but the pieces just don't fit together."
An autopsy performed by Marshall pathologist Robert William Palmer concluded "the manner of death to be suicide," due to a "high level" of the antidepressant, Elavil, in Ms. Prewitt's blood stream.
Her body was discovered about 2 p.m. June 19, 2006, in a ditch at the side of the road in the 800 block of Cypress Drive, Uncertain. Her mother and her 14-year-old son had been searching for her since 9 a.m.
Ms. Lee said she saw her daughter the previous Saturday when Ms. Prewitt visited her. "A lot of things started to change when she married" three weeks earlier, Ms. Lee said of the 35-year-old. "She was acting differently; having problems."
Ms. Prewitt admitted to her mother she felt overwhelmed in caring for her teenaged son, who is diabetic, and to having been weakened by a sinus infection.
She was treated for the latter at a Jefferson clinic, at which time she was also given medication for "acute gastritis," or stomach problems, and Elavil for "anxiety."
Ms. Lee said she offered to keep her grandson the following week, allowing his mother to rest. "She worked two jobs most of the time to care for him," Ms. Lee explained. "She was real proud and independent. She kept a lot of stuff from us, but that day, she said: 'Mother, I don't know how much more I can take.'"
Ms. Lee was not surprised when she saw her grandson walking up the path to her house Monday morning. "I thought at first he was laughing, but when he got closer, I saw he was crying.
"He said: 'Memaw, you gotta help me look for Mamma. She and Steve (her husband) had a big fight and I think she took too much medicine.'"
Ms. Lee said the two left immediately, going first to the house of a friend on Cypress Drive where the boy said his mother and step-father visited earlier that morning.
Ms. Lee said her daughter's truck was still at the site with the driver's-side door open and the key in the ignition. On the seat were bottles of pills Ms. Prewitt had been prescribed on June 12 and the remains of a soft drink. The bottle, which once contained 30 Elavil tablets, was empty.
On the floor-board were six white tablets of "unknown" origin, investigators reported, that had been "moist at one time."
Ms. Lee said she encountered her son-in-law and asked him if he knew Ms. Prewitt's whereabouts. He said he did not. She and her grandson made a trip to the house in Cypress Village where the family was living and the boy searched the downstairs, finding no signs of his mother.
He did find a note on a framed photo of his mother and step-father. Ms. Prewitt had written on it in mascara: "You say you love me. What a joke!" and left her wedding rings there.
The two returned to the home a second time during which they searched the upstairs and the boat house nearby. Again they went to the house on Cypress Drive where Ms. Prewitt was last seen, deciding they were "going to need help looking for Kelly."
Ms. Lee said she returned to her Karnack home and called the sheriff's office. "They came right away," taking over the search and asking Ms. Lee to remain in her vehicle with her grandson.
"They looked and looked. It really began to dawn on me something was terribly wrong when I saw the ambulance pass by. Then a deputy asked: 'Ms. Lee, is there anybody you can call to come be with you?'
"I told him there was not. My husband is sick. He has Parkinson's." It was also his birthday.
"My grandson said: 'They found mother, didn't they?'
"When I told him I believed they had, he asked: 'She's dead, isn't she?'
"I said I thought so.
"He and I broke down and cried."
Ms. Lee said she asked Sheriff Tom McCool to "let me see what's going on. That's my daughter."
"You don't need to see her, Ms. Lee," he responded.
"There were 40 or 50 people standing around," she said. "The lady at the bed-and-breakfast (nearby) brought a sheet and covered her up. I never saw her again."
Because the body remained so long in the summer heat that afternoon, "early decomposition" had already begun when the autopsy was performed 24 hours later, according to the report, and Ms. Lee did not view the body before cremation. "I didn't get to say goodbye," she explained.
"My life changed forever when she was found on the side of the road. I have to take my share of the responsibility for that. I had no idea she was depressed enough to take her own life.
"I feel like I failed Kelly. I had passed that area any number of times while I was searching for her. Why did I not see her? I've spent months driving past that spot.
"Every time I go by, I ask myself: 'Did she see me looking for her? Did she try to call out to me? Did she know I cared — that I loved her? Would she have been saved if I had made one less trip; if I had called the sheriff's office sooner?'
"I haven't slept in months, but things are getting a little bit better now. I have my faith, my family, my church, and my pastor. That keeps me going."
Ms. Lee said her experience enables her to empathize with others. "Families who have been through this sort of thing have big holes in them. It's like peeling an onion. The more layers of grief that are stripped away, the bigger the hole becomes. The pain is incredible. We want closure. I hate that word — closure. I'll never have closure because a part of me is still in that ditch with her."
And questions remain. Ms. Lee said her daughter was last seen wearing a black shawl over her black dress. The shawl was never found. Nor can Ms. Lee explain the "crumpled" $10 bill returned to her with her daughter's black shoes, a bracelet, and a ring — all she has from that day.
She also questions the origin of a rope necklace found in the road near the body. It was not her daughter's, being a type more likely worn by a man.
"We live in is a small town. A dog can't die there without everybody knowing about it. Yet no one seems to know what happened to Kelly."
While homicide was an initial consideration, Ms. Lee said the toxicology report and subsequent suicide ruling "stopped the clock on the investigation.
"I have no hope that I'll ever know," Ms. Lee said. "I like the idea of justice. Kelly hasn't gotten justice. I will continue asking questions as long as I live. The final page hasn't been turned on what happened to her.
"I know she was no angel, but she was 95 percent good. She cared for people. She loved animals, nature, her family. She was a good mother and a good daughter — the only one I had — and I feel good about where she is."
Ms. Lee visits the plot in Andrews Cemetery, Karnack, where she placed her daughter's ashes.
"I miss her as much today as I did the day she left me, but her spirit is around us. I feel it. She is at the foot of my grave, waiting for me, although I should have been there waiting for her.
"I remember holding that beautiful, hand-painted wooden box (with the remains) and telling her: 'Well, Kelly, you have returned to your birth weight.'
"I'll never fear death again now that my little girl faced it. I'd be ashamed to sit around and worry about dying knowing what she went through," Ms. Lee said.
