Dear Denise McNair, Carol Robertson, Cynthia Wesley and Addie Mae Collins,

I felt cheated when I heard of your passing. I cried for days. We would never be friends. We would never play together nor share secrets. I would never eat Sunday dinner at any of your homes. I can still see you in church all dressed in your pretty church clothes. I see you all with smiles on your faces.

Sunday school would never be a place I would feel safe again. Carol and Cynthia, we were the same age, your deaths especially hurt. I always feel that you were my personal friends and there is an emptiness that never goes away. You will always be with me.

I share with your spirits my happinesses and pains. I second guess myself and ask what either of you would have done in particular situations. Though you are no longer here, your spirits are a part of me. If I could somehow update you and tell you about what is happening today, I'd have to give a dire report. Churches are still being bombed. While there have been many wonderful technological advances, attitudes towards Black people have not changed.