• Publication: The Atlanta Journal / The Atlanta Constitution (Viewpoints section)
• Author: Susan Stone Deal
• Original Publication Date: Sunday, April 18, 1993

Jennifer Lynn Stone was 22 when she was found raped and strangled on April 23 at her off-campus apartment in Athens, Ga. One year later, her murder remains unsolved.

In her memory, her family and the University of Georgia have set up the Jennifer L. Stone Memorial Scholarship, full tuition for a student selected by the UGA School of Journalism. Ms. Stone was majoring in advertising and was also an aspiring photographer. The first scholarship, made possible by supplemental funds from the University of Georgia Foundation, will be presented for the 1993-94 school year. Tax-deductible contributions to the fund may be sent by check payable to the University of Georgia Foundation for the Jennifer L. Stone Memorial Scholarship (Fund #40S6180) to:

University of Georgia Foundation Gifts Receiving Office 824 South Milledge Athens, Ga. 30606.

A memorial mass for Jennifer Stone will be offered at 9 a.m. April 25 at St. Benedict’s Catholic Church in Duluth.

The family hopes that anyone with information that can lead to the killer/s of Jennifer Stone will contact Sgt. Alan Brown or Sgt. W.J. Smith of the Athens-Clarke County Police Department (706) 613-3337.

Susan Stone Deal, one of Jennifer Stone’s four older sisters, mourns and celebrates her sister in this “eulogy never spoken.”

The year has passed swiftly, yet seemingly time stood still. The first anniversary looms before us, and still the pain gnaws, the tears fall, and many sleepless nights are spent wondering … Why? You stood poised on the threshold of your full adulthood ready to embrace the world — then suddenly you were gone, and we stood embracing each other in shock, sadness, anger and despair. My mind numb — I was incapable of thought, let alone speech. In silent grief we marked your passing.

Never before had the 15 years between us seemed as great as they did the day I sat in your apartment, sorting your possessions.

Pieces of your life.

A bouquet of dried roses — who were they from? Partial messages scribbled to friends on class notes tucked away — were they important? Photos, your “quote book,” corsages, letters, jewelry, chopsticks . . . everywhere glimpses of you, flashes of your “other” existence previously unknown to me — now lost forever.

You were the youngest — our baby, and the most indulged. Sometimes impractical, usually sensitive, never selfish or cruel. Honest to a fault. I remember only last Christmas you told me I was the only sister your “honesty” hadn’t made cry — yet.

And our phone conversations — agonizing over buying the purple mountain bike, impractical if you moved to New York City, but that was at least six months away, right? Your almost comical disbelief when you found out you had enough credits to actually graduate; and your panicked, collect call (of course) from England to tell me about the dream you had and to reassure yourself of my well-being. Your multitude of diverse friends — like your photos, carefully chosen for content and subject matter. In them, as in your photography, you saw beyond the black and white of the surface to the shadows and the lights, the hues and textures, richly illuminating individual strengths and characteristics, your loyalty never failing.

I have often heard it said that when we reach the end of our journey, if we can count five true friends, we are fortunate. You, my sister, were truly blessed. The seeds of friendship sown by you must have fallen on fertile grounds. In the past year, it has been repeatedly demonstrated that you touched so many in such a short time, in so many different ways.

Knowing this, it is difficult to really comprehend what heights you may have reached, if you’d been allowed to soar. You truly embraced the motto carpe diem (seize the day) and your joie de vivre will always be remembered as part of you.

By your untimely passing, you stepped out of the natural order of things. Instead of following in our footsteps, you are now leading the way. When the sadness is overwhelming, as it still so often is, I think of the lessons to be learned from your examples: strive to find joy in the everyday, look for the best in my fellow humans, meet challenges head on with chin up, and smile at the world.

I may never again be able to listen to George Winston’s “Pachelbel’s Kanon” without tears, or see a white Volkswagen Cabriolet without hesitating, but I take comfort in the time we spent together, the joy of our sisterhood, and the love of our family. Until we meet again, know you are always in our thoughts and forever in our hearts.

We love you.

Susan Stone Deal, 37, is the sister of Jennifer Lynn Stone and lives in Indianapolis with her husband Thomas Deal and son Tyler, 4.

[Photo caption] Jennifer Stone in Ireland (Special)

[Photo caption] Above and below are two photographs from the portfolio of the late Jennifer Stone.