WINGS is now available in paperback
Please join me in petitioning to keep James P. Keihl II imprisoned.
WINGS
Doug soared to heaven before his time.
All petitions MUST be signed and received by June 29, 2011.
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/769/petition-to-deny-parole/
Review by Bill Sullivan
.Sandy, words cannot adequately express the power of Wings. My eyes have witnessed the winged majesty of soaring eagles. My ears have shuddered at the screaming wings thundering jets. But never before has my soul so fully experienced wings of hope of a grieving mother. May those wings—the wings of an angel named Gregory Douglas Turner—embrace you all your mortal days and throughout all eternity. Bill Sullivan, author of Eleven Miles South of Half Moon Bay
God bless you! Bill
God bless you! Bill
Review by Mary Ann Biddinger
Sandra, a Kaleidoscope of emotions came to me as I read "Wings." Doug's impression on me was of a young man caring for life, his artwork, yellow roses and loving family and God. Your unique visit to the Monk's was a stepping stone for you; your faith has not waivered. My heart aches for your heart as it aches each moment. Friend in faith, Mary Ann
.
.
Wings: My only son, Gregory Douglas Turner, MURDERED
A heartfelt message from the heart of a mother:
My only son, Gregory Douglas Turner, 23, was brutally murdered on Dec. 3, 1992 in Xenia, Ohio by an acquaintance, James P. Kiehl II, who was 'dating' Doug's fiancee behind Doug's back, in secret.
Doug, severely hearing-impaired since birth, like me, got off work Dec. 3rd (repairing diesel engines), went to Gold's gym to work out, stopped by the grocery store (Fulmer's) and bought several bags of food. He lived in an apartment with his father, my 'ex'.
James was following Doug that night.
When Doug pulled up to the apartment complex, he parked his truck, picked up both groceries and took his gym bag by the handle, closed the door and, as he stepped away from his car, James, 20' away lifted and shot his 22 rifle.
The first bullet hit Doug in the abdomen and exited leaving a hole the size of a man's fist. Doug dropped everything, fell to both knees and tried to hold his guts in.
The second shot was to one of his shoulders.
The third went into his head.
It was nearly midnight so curtains were pulled aside, people were up but no one came out OR called authorities. Doug heard nothing!
James then threw the rifle into the passengers' side of his truck, got an axe out of the bed and approached Doug from the rear.
The first blow split my son's head to the nape of his neck ... killing him.
There were 14 axe blows, nothing remained of my son's head/face as James attempted to dismember his arms/legs as well.
James 'scooped' my son's remains into the bed of his truck and buried Doug in the Kiehl backyard until his mother turned him in Feb. 4, 1993.
Bad things happen to good people. I know! However, I believe that God was THERE with my son and that my son is with God.
God gave man freewill. Nature also has freewill. God sees us through difficult times; He doesn't cause them.
I am deaf, my grandson (Doogie) whom we're raising, 15, is blind, but God didn't MAKE us that way. All are created PERFECT! Somewhere something happened but THAT isn't God's fault either.
WE are to blame for our actions or inactions.
God, with His mercy, helps us cope with anything and everything.
He has also saved me from; dying on the delivery table when Doug was born, floods, a car accieach and every one on earth--known or unknown--but there's only so much I can do and that is PRAY! dent, a blizzard, a tornado, but ... those are different stories.
Horrid things happen. God helps us cope.
Be at peace with your Creator whatever your faith but know I believe we ARE siblings in Christ.
My firstborn child and only son, Gregory Douglas 'Doug' Turner, 'disappeared' Dec. 3, 1992 in Xenia, Ohio. It wasn't until Feb. 4, 1993, when his remains were found in the backyard of his assailant, that we learned that he was brutally murdered Dec. 3, 1992. It was (at that time) the most brutal murder in the state. He was twenty-three years old, engaged and his assailant was his fiancee's 'other' beau. The photographs in this book were taken from our family albums and any illustrations were taken from Doug's own sketch book. The poems, short stories and writing is exceptionally personal.
Yellow Roses
dedicated to my only son, Gregory Douglas Turner, Aug. 8, 1969-Dec. 3, 1992
Here are roses--big, yellow roses--pretty and thornless
like you gave me years ago.
Together we planted those yellow roses on my birthday.
Son, how you glowed. I remember you said:
"Momma, here's roses, pretty and thornless."
Though your hands, Son, were in shreds.
You watered the petal of those big roses with tears shed removing thorns.
Son, here are roses--big, yellow roses--pretty and thornless,
like you gave me years ago.
I bring you roses on my birthday. See how they've grown!
Remember those roses--big, yellow roses---pretty and thornless,
that you gave me years ago?
Together we planted those yellow roses on my birthday.
Son, how you glowed. I remember you said:
"Momma, here's roses, pretty and thornless."
Though your hands, Son, were in shreds.
Together we've watered those yellow roses with tears that we've both shed.
Remember those roses--big, yellow roses--that you gave me ... years ago ...
Here are roses--big, yellow roses--pretty and thornless
like you gave me years ago.
Together we planted those yellow roses on my birthday.
Son, how you glowed. I remember you said:
"Momma, here's roses, pretty and thornless."
Though your hands, Son, were in shreds.
You watered the petal of those big roses with tears shed removing thorns.
Son, here are roses--big, yellow roses--pretty and thornless,
like you gave me years ago.
I bring you roses on my birthday. See how they've grown!
Remember those roses--big, yellow roses---pretty and thornless,
that you gave me years ago?
Together we planted those yellow roses on my birthday.
Son, how you glowed. I remember you said:
"Momma, here's roses, pretty and thornless."
Though your hands, Son, were in shreds.
Together we've watered those yellow roses with tears that we've both shed.
Remember those roses--big, yellow roses--that you gave me ... years ago ...
Standard Tracking Code