Mother’s last words inspire surprise act of compassion

CNN/Stylemagazine.com Newswire | 12/26/2023, 12:19 p.m.
Hours before her death, Rosie Minor got on the phone and called into a prayer line with friends and members …
On January 20, 2020, a driver hit Minor’s car on Memorial Drive in DeKalb County. The impact forced the vehicle into a utility pole. Mandatory Credit: WANF

Originally Published: 26 DEC 23 10:49 ET

By Andy Pierrotti

Click here for updates on this story

DeKalb County, Georgia (WANF) -- Hours before her death, Rosie Minor got on the phone and called into a prayer line with friends and members of her church. She offered them words of compassion and gratitude.

“God showers his grace upon us one after another,” said the 75-year-old DeKalb County resident. “So we have every reason in the world to be thankful every day.”

Those words would be her last recorded message alive.

On January 20, 2020, a driver hit Minor’s car on Memorial Drive in DeKalb County. The impact forced the vehicle into a utility pole.

A stranger held Minor’s hand while the ambulance was in route. “Stay with me, momma,” said an unidentified man seen in police body camera video at the crash scene. “They’re on their way. Stay with us.”

The ordained minister, who was once featured in Ebony Magazine, died a few hours later at Grady Memorial Hospital.

Police charged the vehicle’s driver, Nikia Cherry, with vehicular homicide, and said she was traveling at 73 miles per hour, nearly twice the speed limit. A civil lawsuit against Cherry claimed she was on her phone at the time.

“I was consumed with anger,” said Staci Green, one of Minor’s daughters. “I wanted [Cherry] to go to jail. I wanted them to pick her up. I was just not in a good place.”

Shattered with grief, Green fell into a deep depression. Unable to focus, she lost her job. Green was also determined to see Cherry pay for killing her mother. She spent days scrolling through Cherry’s social media accounts, painting a picture of what she assumed her mother’s killer must have been like: reckless and unremorseful.

Cherry pleaded guilty to speeding and homicide by vehicle. She received a $2,500 fine and was sentenced to 24 months of probation and 240 hours of community service.

“How do you forgive the person who killed your mom?” asked Green. “Your best friend. How do you do it?”

About three years later, Green faced Cherry in a DeKalb County courtroom, there to settle a civil lawsuit against Cherry’s car insurance company.

Toward the end of the trial this past October, attorneys played a recording of Minor’s voice to the jury. It was a recording of the same prayer line in which she took part in before she died.

At that moment, Green said she knew what needed to be done. In the hallway outside the courtroom, she approached Cherry.

“I said, ‘I need you to know, I forgive you. I need you to know, I forgive you,” Green said. “I needed her to know that.”

The moment took Cherry by complete surprise. “She came up to me and hugged me and said she was going to forgive me,” Cherry said. “For her to do that, it changed me in so many ways.”

Unknown to Green, her sister also approached Cherry in the bathroom, also offering her compassion.

Their attorneys were unaware of all of it.

“I was concerned when I heard that my client and the defendant had been talking in the bathroom,” said Jeb Butler, an attorney representing Minor’s family. “I was worried they might get in a fight and cause a mistrial.

“But then I heard what the conversation was about and I kind of melted,” Butler said. “That interaction between Staci and Nikia was the concentrated essence of what is best in humanity, like a diamond in the rough of a tragic case – forgiveness, empathy, and hope compressed into one moment. “I’m glad they didn’t ask me for permission.”

While the jury was deliberating, the two parties settled the case for $10 million. According to Butler, the foreperson and other jurors were seconds away from submitting a $23-million verdict.

For years after the accident, Cherry said she prayed Minor’s family would forgive her, but was unsure how to approach them.

“I still cannot forgive myself for what happened,” Cherry said. “For her to do that, that was a really big change for me.”

Green said it was important to forgive Cherry to help her push through depression and anger. “My mom is already dead,” she said, “and I was walking around dead. In order to get my life back, I had to forgive her. It doesn’t make sense to have two dead people.”

Green’s compassion could have ended that day at the courthouse; she could have never spoke to Cherry again. Instead, Green said she did something her mother would have done.

You have the right to an attorney. But it doesn't always turn out that way.

After the accident, life got tough for Cherry and her four children. She lost her home, job and car. Green helped Cherry with money, transportation and even temporary housing.

Cherry also joined Clarkston First Baptist Church, the same place where Minor once worshiped.

Green and Cherry now speak or text daily. “Every day she helps me with my kids,” Cherry said. “When I needed food, Staci was there. She’s like a big sister, like a God-mom.”

Green said her late mother would be doing the same if she were alive today. “She would forgive, she would help her,” she said. “My mother wouldn’t want her to be down on her luck.”

The world needs more “Staci’s,” Cherry said. “If a lot of people forgave, maybe this world would be a little different.”

Please note: This content carries a strict local market embargo. If you share the same market as the contributor of this article, you may not use it on any platform.

The-CNN-Wire