CHAPTER 1

Italian Fest

* * *

Q: When is the last time you spoke with your mom?

A: At 12:10 this morning.

Q: Did you go to the Italian Fest lastevening on Saturday night?

A: Yes.

Q: Is that in Marquette Park?

A: Yes.

Q: Who is Perry?

A: He's like my boyfriend, but we've been on and offlately ... we've been on and off for about a year.

Q: What did you do after you spoke with your mom?

A: Hung out at Perry's a little longer ... 30 minutes,then they took me back to my car and I went and gotcigarettes, then I went to Taco Bell, then I realized Ididn't have my wallet, I called Perry to asked him to lookaround his house for it, so I went back to Carter's andfound my wallet, then I bought gas, I have a receipt forthat. Then I drove to Cordova to Eric Whittakers (sic),but decided to head on home, we talked for a minutethough. I was talking to Andrew Hammack on the phone.He was going to stop by my house and see my kittenand we were supposed to talk. I was supposed to callhim when I got home, but I found what I found.—NouraJackson's Witness Statement, June 5, 2005

* * *

It was the last sliver of the summer afternoon. Thatlazy, tired time of day between the promise of morningand the possibility of evening. Two teenagers—listeningdistractedly to a local radio station—made their way acrosstown. Noura Jackson, the driver, was calculating how tooutmaneuver her mother. Her mom would tell her again thatshe was grounded until she finished her schoolwork. Thatwould mean staying home tonight—a Saturday. Not likelyto happen as far as Noura was concerned. Her passenger,Kaole (pronounced Cole) Madison, who was still a littlestoned, glanced at Noura, puzzled by her subdued mood.After all, they looking forward to a preparty, kicking offwhat should be an even better party.

"Damn," Noura said. "My mom's still there. I don't wantto go home now. I don't feel like dealing with her."

Noura also had a nice buzz from the mellow time they'dhad that afternoon. The last thing she wanted now wasto see her mom, which would lead to conflict—anotherargument about her lack of responsibility—she just knewit. Sometimes it seemed they had been fighting foreverthough she knew that wasn't really true. But somethinghad shifted. Suddenly finishing her GED work and curfewswere a big deal. And all her friends, especially her boyfriend,Perry, were suspect. She was threatening—promising—toget a restraining order against him!

She loved her mom, but right now she wanted to be asfar away from her as possible. Jennifer was treating Nouramore like a child than ever, even drug testing her. She waseighteen years old, and since her father's death over a yearago, she should have been completely independent. She washis only heir, yet her mom controlled the money. How manyarguments had they had about that? Too many, even Nouraknew. If her mom would give her what was hers, she'd moveout and perhaps one day they would be all right again.

"Why don't we check out parking for Italian Festtonight?" Noura suggested. "Maybe by the time we get backshe'll be gone." Kaole didn't ask Noura any questions aboutwhy she didn't want to see her mom. Such situations wereall too common among himself and his friends and theirparents. Seemed like there were so many things to argueabout: curfews, rules, cars, money, drinking, work, school,and friends. The list just went on and on.

Noura knew her mom was going to the wedding of afriend's daughter that night with Jimmy Tual, whom Nouraregarded as a socialite. Jimmy escorted Jennifer when sheand Mark Irvin, her Methodist minister boyfriend, were offagain. God what a prick Mark is, Noura thought again. Anda creep! Always trying to look down her shirt. It would begood if this time the breakup really lasted.

They'd already made one stop since leaving Kaole'shouse. At a friend's house Noura borrowed a hair dryer.It was midafternoon as they circled through her EastMemphis neighborhood in Noura's Jeep Cherokee. Theypassed a sign in front of one nearby house advertising freekittens. That would be sweet, Noura thought, a little kittento play with, something new. Her mom probably wouldn'tthink so but so what. Soon she hoped to be living on herown anyway.

They headed toward Eastgate Shopping Center, a stripmall near Noura's house, where they picked up beer at anIke's Pharmacy and scouted parking for later that night.The shopping center, across the street from Marquette Park,offered ideal parking for the popular, three-day MemphisItalian Festival that drew throngs of local teens.

Part festival, part carnival, part arts and crafts fair,part rock and roll venue, Italian Fest is an amalgamationprobably only Memphians could understand. Dottedthroughout the park are individual tents outfitted as Italiankitchens (there were forty-seven teams in 2011). Varying indegrees of flamboyance and creativity, the cooking teams'tents host private parties serving Italian food and alsobeer and liquor. An easy venue for underage drinkers. The2005 festivities fell on June 2, 3, and 4, Thursday throughSaturday nights, and drew from all age groups. Many ofthe attendees were Catholic school students from St. AgnesAcademy, Immaculate Conception, Christian Brothers HighSchool, and St. Benedict. Holy Rosary's parish schoolbenefits from the event's proceeds, but odds were teenagerspassing through the gates were more focused on partyingthan altruism.

* * *

The festival's sixteenth year would be widely rememberedfor the shocking awakening on Sunday morning when wordspread far and wide across Memphis of a horrific homicide.Jennifer Jackson, a beautiful, thirty-nine-year-old bondtrader, was discovered dead by a neighbor and Jennifer'seighteen-year-old daughter, Noura. Jennifer had beenstabbed more than fifty times in her East Memphis homeabout a mile and a half from Marquette Park.

* * *

Like her daughter's, the night of June 4 had beena social one for Jennifer. In spite of a rough start—adisheartening phone conversation that morning with herboyfriend, Mark—the evening involved good company. Herclose friend Jimmy stepped into the lurch left by Mark,and together they attended Molly Fuller's wedding. Mollywas the daughter of Jennifer's friend, Mary Jane Fuller. At5:30 p.m. Jennifer arrived at Tual's East Memphis homeon Charleswood, about a mile from her own New Havenaddress. Tual drove to the 6 p.m. wedding ceremony atCalvary Episcopal Church in Downtown Memphis. Then itwas back to East Memphis for the wedding reception heldat the bride's parents' home on Williamsburg Lane. Jenniferand Jimmy, along with fifty or so other guests, mingled andenjoyed the evening. They stayed about two hours, andthough alcohol was served, Jimmy said Jennifer was notintoxicated.

Before calling it a night, Jimmy and Jennifer stoppedat a neighborhood bar, the Cockeyed Camel, for a drink.Jennifer called her friend Linda Finlay, who lived inCordova, an outlying area of Memphis, to meet them. "Italked with her that night and she wanted me to meet herat the Cockeyed Camel," Finlay said. "I didn't go becauseI'd had too much to drink to drive. If I had gone, I wouldhave spent the night at Jennifer's house. I wouldn't havedriven back to Cordova."

Jennifer paid their bar tab with her credit card—11:06p.m. was the last time the card was swiped—and Tual thendrove back to Charleswood. They said goodnight outside,and Jennifer got in her car and left around 11:30 p.m. Tualsaid there was nothing unusual about Jennifer's behaviorthat night. He never saw her alive again.

"People were just inordinately sad about Jennifer'sdeath. She was just extremely well liked," he said. "Shewas such a fair person. A caring, generous friend who wasalways positive and upbeat."

CHAPTER 2

Party Circuit

* * *

Defense attorney Art Quinn told the juryin his opening statement that they wouldmeet a lot of "East Memphis brats."

Presiding Criminal Court Judge Christopher Craftobserved the young people as "very privileged,completely selfish and out of control."

"They called me to do 48 Hours and I said, `Noway.' I knew they would make me look like aparty girl or a complete bratty private school kidthat used all my parents' money to party and actinappropriately. What about the good things that allof us do?"—Sophie Cooley to journalist Lauren Lee

The Saturday of the Italian Festival weekend unfoldedin a leisurely fashion. Noura didn't work outside of alittle babysitting here and there, and was not doingmuch in the way of school that summer. Late on Saturdaymorning, she picked up a friend, Alex Kline, at Alex's dad'sformer house. It was empty and a good place to party. Theymight smoke some weed there in case Kaole's parents werearound when they got to his place. Noura, like many herage, smoked a good bit of marijuana, at least three daysa week just with Kaole. "It was a pretty regular thing forall of us kids," said her friend, Sophie Cooley. She recallssmoking with Noura and others by Noura's swimming pool,though never in front of Jennifer Jackson. This afternoon,though, they planned to spend the day by Kaole's pool.These times were all about partying, going out, gettinghigh, and drama. Drama queens was Kaole's name forNoura's girlfriends—"They liked to stir up trouble." Thoughthe same could be said of almost all high-school girls.They inhabited a scene typified by competition, status,jealousies, and insecurities.

* * *

On the way to Kaole's house, Noura and Alex werescheming about hooking him up with a girl they knewhad caught his attention. Maybe inviting her to Kaole'sto swim as well. They made another brief stop at Noura'shouse where she ran in to get her swimsuit. She was quick,planning to avoid her mom altogether. At least I can findsomething in my room, Noura thought. That house, it's awreck, bedlam.

The exterior brick of Jennifer and Noura's three-bedroomranch at 5001 New Haven was painted unimaginativebeige. It resembled many East Memphis homes built inthe mid-1950s; a one-level ranch with hardwood floorsthroughout. The kitchen and bathrooms had not beennoticeably updated. A solid home in a nice area thoughone side of the house ran parallel to a busy street. Butunlike many similar homes, Jennifer and Noura's homewas swamped by clutter.

"My sister," Grace France said of Jennifer, "was not thebest housekeeper." Magazines, newspapers, books, shoes,clothes, purses, and assorted random items covered almostevery surface. The shower rod in Jennifer's bathroom offher bedroom served as another clothing rack (it didn'tappear to have been used as a shower for some time) andthe bathroom floor was reinvented as a second closet forshoes. The bedroom floor was littered with clothes, shoes,handbags, and odds and ends.

Another entire bedroom, painted bright maroon withsome lighter pink shades, had been converted to a closet.It was something you might see in a second-hand storewith clothes hanging from rows of metal clothing rods. Asuccessful bond trader with SunTrust Capital Markets,Jennifer's shopping was legendary. "She piled up oneverything" her brother, Eric Sherwood, said. "She was apack rat. Sometimes she would be in the middle of cleaningup, and other times it would be a mess." Jennifer mademultiple purchases of the same item from Williams-Sonomaor warehouse places like Costco. Boxes would never beopened. Overflow from the house spilled into the garagethat was shelved from top to bottom. When that was full,Jennifer rented multiple storage units. The one exceptionto all the clutter, at least on occasion, was Noura's khakibedroom. A refuge of sort from the surrounding chaos.

* * *

The girls showed up at Kaole's house about 11:00 a.m.recouping from the night before. One of their friends, CarterKobeck, lived within walking distance of the festival site. Theusual group of friends had met at his house for a prefestivalparty Friday night and planned to again Saturday. It wasconvenient to have a central location so close to MarquettePark. Kaole didn't recall anything too out of the ordinaryabout Friday night at Carter's place except Noura comingin the kitchen and asking for a band aid. Whether forherself or someone else he didn't know. After a few hoursat Carter's, the group dispersed. "By then," Kaole said, "wehad a pretty nice buzz so we walked to the Italian Fest."

* * *

While Kaole did yard work—taking periodical breaksto hang out with the girls—Alex and Noura got some sunby the pool. They recently had rekindled their friendshipafter meeting in the eighth grade at Ridgeway, a Memphispublic school. (Prior to Ridgeway, Noura had been at St.Agnes Academy, St. Mary's Episcopal School—both allgirls'schools—and Lausanne Collegiate School in Memphis,as well as attending schools in Arkansas and Atlanta,Georgia.) Noura left Ridgeway her junior year to attendSt. George's Independent School though by the end of theschool year she was enrolled in a home-school program.Noura planned to return to Ridgeway for her senior yearor perhaps get a GED.

Kaole also struggled with traditional schools, and aftera few tries at various high schools, finished his high-schoolcourse work through Gateway, a Christian-based, home-schoolprogram. Kaole encouraged Noura to stick withGateway, which he liked and found lenient. His aunt washis teacher. Plus, it was accredited and students finishedwith a real diploma. Noura was more interested in gettinga GED. Easier, she thought. School—Gateway, Ridgeway,or any other—was just another point of contention. Sinceshe'd lost interest in Gateway, her participation waned. Sheand her mom had been round and round about that!

Kaole and Noura's friendship had been consistent sincethey met their freshman year of high school. They had a bitof a crush on each other, but Noura wound up dating hisbest friend, Perry Brasfield. Kaole has a full head of curlyblond hair and an open, engaging manner. They'd beenfriends now for years, seeing each other nearly every day,smoking weed and partying. They smoked often at Noura'shouse, "More times than I could count on two hands," Kaolesaid. Once, a few years earlier, Noura's mom came homeunexpectedly and caught them smoking in the backyard.Even after that, Jennifer never made him feel unwelcomein her home. She even made a few jokes about it later on.Kaole knew Jennifer tried to set curfews that Noura rarelyfollowed. He didn't remember Noura caring much if hermom was upset about it either.

Kaole, Noura, and their group's drug use intensifiedafter their friend Anna Menkel was killed in a car accidentin January 2005. Anna had been a junior at St. AgnesAcademy where she and Noura met in the seventh grade.With her best friend's sudden death, Noura spiraled intoa deep depression. She memorialized her friend with adelicate colored tattoo in cursive on the top of her foot thatsimply said Anna.

Jennifer seemed to understand how much Anna's deathhurt her daughter, though she expressed her sympathy ina curiously phrased note. On Noura's Valentine's card theyear of Anna's passing, Jennifer remarked on Anna's lossof Noura. More commonly, Noura would have been consoledon the tragic loss of her close friend. "Dear Noura," Jenniferwrote, "how unfortunate Anna was in her short life to havelost a friend like you. You have so much love to give."

Dana Fredrick, Ph.D., life-long educator, and motherof Noura's close friends, Lindsey and Natalie Fredrick,described Noura as "completely heartbroken by Anna'sdeath." She was absolutely devastated and kept the eulogy[from Anna's service] in her pocket." But after Jennifer'sdeath, Natalie observed to Commercial Appeal reporterSherri Drake, "Noura was always like, 'I miss my mom,'but I could always tell there was something wrong becauseevery time we talked about it, she'd just get real quiet."

* * *

Whether as a means of escape or teenage curiosity,the drugs got more serious, though never includedmethamphetamine or acid. The standard fare of marijuanaand alcohol was enhanced with pharmaceuticals like Lortab,Xanax, and hydrocodone syrup, an opiate painkiller, usedto treat a cough. Sophie recalled sipping the hydrocodone—whichusually is mixed with alcohol and other ingredients—froma baby bottle, a practice the Memphis rap group Three6 Mafia called "Sippin on Sizzurp." Xanax bars, white,bar-looking pills (usually two milligrams and scored threetimes), also were favored. Noura's friend Kirby McDonaldsaid, "The bars give you a really good feeling with alcohol."Noura relied on Xanax bars for anxiety and stress, "Itwould help ease her emotions," Kaole said.

Less often they experimented with cocaine andpsychedelic mushrooms, or "chocolates," as they werecalled when the mushrooms were ground and baked ina chocolate bar. Noura and Kaole took chocolates on twooccasions, once in Noura's backyard with a group of peopleand once in Shady Grove Park. Kaole hadn't tried cocaine—didn'twant to—and the time Noura did with friends in herliving room, he watched TV and later fell asleep. "I didn'tjudge anybody about coke. I just wanted to set myself out,"he said.