Date Of Birth: August 19, 1986
Date Of Death: September 15, 2004
Jacquie Kay Russell18, of Indianapolis, died Wednesday, September 15, 2004. She was born August 19, 1986 in Ft. Wayne, Indiana. She was a senior at Lawrence Central High School. She enjoyed photography, concerts, playing the flute and guitar and spending time with friends and family. She is survived by her father, Christopher Russell; her mother Jodie (Turnbow) Russell; daughter Rylee Kay Russell; brothers Jess and Joseph Russell; sisters Anna and Elizabeth Russell; Step-mother Christine A. Russell; grandmother Patricia Arden; grandparents Bob and Lane Turnbow, Carol and Eddie Waller, David and Kathy Russell. She was preceded in death by stepfather Andy Russell and grandfather Gill Arden. Funeral services will be held at 11:00 am Saturday, September 18, in College Park Ministry Center. Friends may call from 5 to 8 p.m. Friday, September 17 in the ministry center (corner of 96th and Shelbourne), Indianapolis. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to the Rylee Russell Educational Trust Fund at the church. Arrangements entrusted to Harry Moore Family Mortuaries.
Valerie Bader says
i love you jacquie, you made my world a better place, im going to miss you so much…if you only knew. nsync forever…friends forever.
Jennifer Eback says
Jackie you were the sweetest girl and you will always be in my memories. I wish your family the best. we all love you and miss you!
Sarah Haag says
Jacquie, you were such a clown, you made my world a happier place. you’ll always be in my heart and in my prayers.
Wendy Horton says
To Jacquie, my beautiful niece. I love you & miss you so much! Thanks for being a wonderful part of our lives; especially to Tyler & Taylor. They love you so much and will miss all the “FUN” times shared with you….Forever you will be in our hearts!
I love you!
Aunt Wendy
Lindsay Bureaux says
Jacquie, I will forever cherish the memories I have of you. It seems just like yesterday that you were born, and all too soon this day has come. Although I will never understand, I will always love you and you will forever have a place in my heart. I miss you terribly!
Love you,
“Aunt” Lindsay
Anna Russell says
Hey Jacquie, it’s me, your lil sis. While this page has long been forgotten, you are so far from that, evident clearly by my visiting of this page only 14 some years after it was created. I thought of you, as I often do, and realized you probably had some obituary page floating around the internet and now here I am. Sad to think about all the lost souls who have obituary pages floating around the internet, sadder yet to think about the forgotten ones. At 6 years old and in 2004, your page wasn’t just an easy click away on my Macbook Air. So I’m sorry, for only coming now, I didn’t think about it I guess.
It’s been so long, Big Sis. But you frequently roam my mind. As I write this, I’m realizing this is my first time, really, writing anything to you since you left. I think about our car rides a lot. Blasting 90’s music and singing loudly and obnoxiously without a care in the world in felt like. I wonder when did it change for you? Or maybe you were in silent pain all the while and I just couldn’t see. I think about all the silly dancing around the kitchen and just laughing together. Just me and my big sister, we could take on the world, ya kno? Every year, September feels so dark to me. Always has, someone usually dies ever since you. This year it was Tykece. Rest in peace, my friend. Though I never saw you on that fateful September day, nor was I at the scene of your death, I feel as if I was for I can picture the entirety of events in detail. I guess my mind has made a movie of sorts in my head from the descriptions I was told combined with my own imagination trying to find some kind of closure? I see you sitting in your room, crying while writing our note. I watch you do a final check to make sure no one will interrupt, coast is clear kinda thing. You go to the garage and start up the car. Except instead of opening the garage as one usually would, you keep it shut, all the way down, ensuring that the precious life inside will soon, tragically never leave. I think about how you musta felt as you laid there, slowly breathing in the poison. Were you feeling relief your escape was finally here? Or scared of what was to come after death? I want to say, ‘did you think of me?’ sister? But I know you mostly felt pain, tremendous pain. And that kind of pain brings despair that muddles and clouds things. Makes truth harder to find and lies easier to believe. The pain affirmed your doubts, that no one cared. That no one was there for you, not even your family, not even your little Anna who if she knew would’ve hugged you so tight and screamed as loud as she could you that she loved you so much and needed you here to help her grow up and navigate this cruel, crazy, and beautiful world. But you didn’t hear me, did you? I think about if you felt any pain. Or if it was like a peaceful sleep you simply never woke from. I think about the life, the beautiful life I know you could’ve had. We could’ve had. I don’t know why you were ever worried about Rylee, Jacquie, she turned out perfect. I wish you could see her. I think about seeing you graduate high school, and then college. I think about what it woulda been like, you giving me boy advice and teaching me how to drive. I think about how it woulda been different, having you there through my first heartbreak to lean on. I think about so much, Jacquie, think about you so much. I think a lot about where you are now. And if I’ll get to see you again. Soon, in only 4 years, you’ll have been gone just as long as you were here. So truly devastating, sister.
Oh Big Sister, I am older than you now. How is that even possible? It’s an oxymoron. It doesn’t make sense. About as much sense as suicide I suppose. I am the big sister now, have been for years. It’s always felt strange. I was always the dead middle child and just because you left I didn’t stop being the middle child but to everyone else I met I did. “Wait, your the oldest girl, why’d you say you were a middle kid?” And I have to then be like oh wait yeah or decide to tell them a very deep story that is usually inappropriately heavy for the setting.
I often ponder how your death affected me. I didn’t realize that it even had, well detrimentally anyways, until many years later of course. Being only 6, you don’t even fully understand the concept of death yet. Of a permanent leave. Your brain physically hasn’t developed enough to grasp the idea of it. So instead, it feels more like.. abandonment. I still to this day feel like you just left me and it has taken time to separate the leaving thing with the death thing through a slow process of growing up and just delving more into it psychologically and trying to understand. For years following your death, I sometimes thought I would see you. Like way across the grocery store or in a passing car. I would always hope you’d come back one day. But you never did, and so I cried, for weeks every night. I didn’t want to admit that you were really gone, well because, to me it never really felt like you were, (being 6 I couldn’t get death fully.) It just felt like you.. left. I didn’t understand this pain I felt, it was new. Different than any other kind of pain I had ever experienced in my first 5 years. The kind of pain that takes your innocence at 6 years old. And leaves you broken. Pain and hurt for me has always been a lot to handle. I try to deny any pain I am in thinking it will make it easier, when it only draws it out. It’s torture to the soul, to not let one feel and process through one’s pain. Only by looking it in the face, admitting it’s there, and working through it can one move on and find peace. And I guess I just haven’t fully learned how to do that yet. Because I haven’t moved on yet, I still feel the pain of you leaving, Jacquie. I still cry for my lost sister. But I’m working on moving forward. Though I don’t look for you in the grocery stores or the passing cars anymore, I miss you all the time. I miss the absence of you anyway. I always will. I could never forget you dear sister, but I do deserve to be free of the pain that you left for me that September night oh so many years ago. You changed my life and permanently altered who I am. I wish you were here with me but I’m thankful for all you taught me. I love you, Jacqueline. Forever and Always.