Justice For Christy
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This account is to raise money to pay for my mother's funeral costs. On October 29, 2018 my mother, Ida Christy Stiles, was shot and killed in her home by three police officers after forcing their way into her home. All of the money raised on this account will go directly to funeral costs, memorial services, and her bills to keep her home for as long as we possibly can. She did not have life insurance, and her life was cut short by what my family and I can only describe as murder. If we exceed funeral costs, we plan to use the money to advocate for better police training when dealing with the mentally ill, as well as creating a website and a group for my mother and helping other's in similar situations. Below is testimony from her family, friends, and a link to the news article. Thank you so much and every penny helps.
Christy's Memorial Video:
Shanna Stiles (daughter): My mother was shot and killed this morning by at least three police officers in her own home. There are several stories and rumors going around but the facts right now are that she had a BB gun, it is unknown if she even had the B.B. gun on her, she was paranoid schizophrenic, she called the police hoping they would protect her, she was on the phone with 911 when the police arrived and when she was killed and she was simply asking for help. She was scared, confused, mentally ill, and she didn’t deserve this. My mother did not deserve to be shot and killed in her own home. There were no warrants or probable cause for them to enter her home against her will. She called 911 this morning because she was paranoid that someone was stalking her and this is what she got. The police brutality needs to stop. #justiceforchristy
Roxy Stiles (daughter): My mother was shot and killed yesterday morning, in her own home, by the people who were supposed to help her.
They killed my Mama, the person who birthed and raised me. The person who cared and loved me. We might've had some arguments over stupid things and she might've said something weird every once in a while, but I still loved her. She didn't deserve to die.
There are so many things running through my head right now. I should've visited more, called her more often, talked to her more, hugged her more. I should have reacted to her illness better; I should have calmed and soothe her worries away, should've asked what was bothering her and how to help, should've helped take care of her. I should have spent my off days with her, not on myself. I wanted to help her, but didn't know how. I wanted to help her garden and take care of the chickens, I wanted to help clean the house, I wanted to help fix her car, I wanted to 'fix' her. But there are somethings you can't fix simply because you don't know how or refuse to try.
All these should've, would've, could'ves are running though my brain, Telling me I didn't do enough.
I am 19 years old. Four years ago I lived with my mother and relied on her, three years ago I lived and relied on my grandmother, two years ago I lived and relied on my sister, now I live and rely on my grandfather. I always had someone to rely on.
But my little brother, my baby brother Chris, only had my mother. She was the only one who could stand his outbursts. Everyone tried, but everyone gave up on him. She didn't. She loved my little brother. Chris relied on her, and she relied on him. But now she's gone. He won't say it, but he needs someone to love and support him. It's my turn to be someone to rely on.
He told me he's already having nightmares. He's acting stotic and strong but I know he's grieving.
My supportive sister, my caring sister, my loving sister, is heartbroken. She knew Mama the longest, loved her the longest. She knew what to do, but now she doesn't.
Grandpa is angry. Two years ago he lost the love of his life and now he lost their baby. I checked in on him a few hours ago. He keeps switching between crying and cursing. Crying for his baby girl, and cursing the officers who killed her. He says he wants vengeance. He wants the names of the officers and the truth.
I am also waiting for the truth. I keep checking the news for any infomation, but they all say what I know. I want to speak with the officers responsible and ask then why. Why? Why did they kill my mother? They knew of her, knew about her illness, knew she wasn't stable. They knew every once in a while we would call and ask for help getting her to the hospital so that she could take her medicine and feel safe. They knew they should have been careful with her. They knew they shouldn't have entered her home without consent and shouldn't have burst through the door. They have tasers, why didn't they use them? If they felt unsafe, why didn't they just walk back out the door? They didn't get very far in. Why did THREE officers shoot and kill my mother? Hell, why didn't they shoot her arm holding the "gun" instead of in her chest and head? They shot to kill. They took one step inside that door and shot.
The GPI won't tell us anything the press doesn't already know. We weren't allowed on the property, weren't allowed inside her home, weren't allowed to see her body. They spoke to my sister, aunt, and grandpa. First of kin they say. They didn't speak to me; not that I would have had anything to add but it would have been helpful to hear what they had to say instead of peices of a overheard conversation.
They said we might be able to have the property back tomorrow. I'm going to walk into my childhood home and not find my mother. Just blood and gunshot holes. The place where I spent most of my life, covered in the blood of the person who gave me life.
You know, you always hear about these things on the news. You never expect it to happen to you. It has taken me about 2 hours to write my thoughts. I woke my brother up with my crying. I tried to sleep at midnight, got a few hours, now I'm restless. My sweet cat has stayed with me this whole time. He curled into my chest and slept with me, giving me a little comfort. He checks on me when I'm crying, licks my hand, trying to tell me it's alright. As soon as I walked into my room he knew something was wrong. He doesn't want to play or bite my feet, he wants me to be happy. He doesn't understand. In truth, I don't either.
It's 7am right now. I was supposed to go to work in a few hours, but I won't be. My coworkers will message me later, asking where I am. They'll say "Where's Roxy? She's never late. Did she call out? Is she coming?". They'll tell me they were surprised I wasn't at work. I have never called out before. They'll be worried for me.
All I can do now is cry and wait. Wait for answers and wait for them to let us see my mother. I'm scared but I know I'll never forgive myself if I don't look. I must see for myself.
#justiceforchristy
David Stiles (father): christy knew from her childhood love and kindness never hurt anybody.you can not over come evil with evil ,but over come evil with good.her blood cries out from the ground,father forgive them thay dont know what thay are doing,just as jesus said.as, he was being put to death for our sin.i am so proud of you christy you had a hard life but you were faithfull to the end welcome home
Christy's Memorial Video:
Shanna Stiles (daughter): My mother was shot and killed this morning by at least three police officers in her own home. There are several stories and rumors going around but the facts right now are that she had a BB gun, it is unknown if she even had the B.B. gun on her, she was paranoid schizophrenic, she called the police hoping they would protect her, she was on the phone with 911 when the police arrived and when she was killed and she was simply asking for help. She was scared, confused, mentally ill, and she didn’t deserve this. My mother did not deserve to be shot and killed in her own home. There were no warrants or probable cause for them to enter her home against her will. She called 911 this morning because she was paranoid that someone was stalking her and this is what she got. The police brutality needs to stop. #justiceforchristy
Roxy Stiles (daughter): My mother was shot and killed yesterday morning, in her own home, by the people who were supposed to help her.
They killed my Mama, the person who birthed and raised me. The person who cared and loved me. We might've had some arguments over stupid things and she might've said something weird every once in a while, but I still loved her. She didn't deserve to die.
There are so many things running through my head right now. I should've visited more, called her more often, talked to her more, hugged her more. I should have reacted to her illness better; I should have calmed and soothe her worries away, should've asked what was bothering her and how to help, should've helped take care of her. I should have spent my off days with her, not on myself. I wanted to help her, but didn't know how. I wanted to help her garden and take care of the chickens, I wanted to help clean the house, I wanted to help fix her car, I wanted to 'fix' her. But there are somethings you can't fix simply because you don't know how or refuse to try.
All these should've, would've, could'ves are running though my brain, Telling me I didn't do enough.
I am 19 years old. Four years ago I lived with my mother and relied on her, three years ago I lived and relied on my grandmother, two years ago I lived and relied on my sister, now I live and rely on my grandfather. I always had someone to rely on.
But my little brother, my baby brother Chris, only had my mother. She was the only one who could stand his outbursts. Everyone tried, but everyone gave up on him. She didn't. She loved my little brother. Chris relied on her, and she relied on him. But now she's gone. He won't say it, but he needs someone to love and support him. It's my turn to be someone to rely on.
He told me he's already having nightmares. He's acting stotic and strong but I know he's grieving.
My supportive sister, my caring sister, my loving sister, is heartbroken. She knew Mama the longest, loved her the longest. She knew what to do, but now she doesn't.
Grandpa is angry. Two years ago he lost the love of his life and now he lost their baby. I checked in on him a few hours ago. He keeps switching between crying and cursing. Crying for his baby girl, and cursing the officers who killed her. He says he wants vengeance. He wants the names of the officers and the truth.
I am also waiting for the truth. I keep checking the news for any infomation, but they all say what I know. I want to speak with the officers responsible and ask then why. Why? Why did they kill my mother? They knew of her, knew about her illness, knew she wasn't stable. They knew every once in a while we would call and ask for help getting her to the hospital so that she could take her medicine and feel safe. They knew they should have been careful with her. They knew they shouldn't have entered her home without consent and shouldn't have burst through the door. They have tasers, why didn't they use them? If they felt unsafe, why didn't they just walk back out the door? They didn't get very far in. Why did THREE officers shoot and kill my mother? Hell, why didn't they shoot her arm holding the "gun" instead of in her chest and head? They shot to kill. They took one step inside that door and shot.
The GPI won't tell us anything the press doesn't already know. We weren't allowed on the property, weren't allowed inside her home, weren't allowed to see her body. They spoke to my sister, aunt, and grandpa. First of kin they say. They didn't speak to me; not that I would have had anything to add but it would have been helpful to hear what they had to say instead of peices of a overheard conversation.
They said we might be able to have the property back tomorrow. I'm going to walk into my childhood home and not find my mother. Just blood and gunshot holes. The place where I spent most of my life, covered in the blood of the person who gave me life.
You know, you always hear about these things on the news. You never expect it to happen to you. It has taken me about 2 hours to write my thoughts. I woke my brother up with my crying. I tried to sleep at midnight, got a few hours, now I'm restless. My sweet cat has stayed with me this whole time. He curled into my chest and slept with me, giving me a little comfort. He checks on me when I'm crying, licks my hand, trying to tell me it's alright. As soon as I walked into my room he knew something was wrong. He doesn't want to play or bite my feet, he wants me to be happy. He doesn't understand. In truth, I don't either.
It's 7am right now. I was supposed to go to work in a few hours, but I won't be. My coworkers will message me later, asking where I am. They'll say "Where's Roxy? She's never late. Did she call out? Is she coming?". They'll tell me they were surprised I wasn't at work. I have never called out before. They'll be worried for me.
All I can do now is cry and wait. Wait for answers and wait for them to let us see my mother. I'm scared but I know I'll never forgive myself if I don't look. I must see for myself.
#justiceforchristy
David Stiles (father): christy knew from her childhood love and kindness never hurt anybody.you can not over come evil with evil ,but over come evil with good.her blood cries out from the ground,father forgive them thay dont know what thay are doing,just as jesus said.as, he was being put to death for our sin.i am so proud of you christy you had a hard life but you were faithfull to the end welcome home
Organizer
ShannaMae Stiles
Organizer
Thomaston, GA
