Yesterday I told my husband I wanted to see my daddy’s ashes. We have had them for a couple of weeks. I couldn’t ask before yesterday. I didn’t want to feel that pain. He took the box off the table where He had placed them , out of my view. They were pretty heavy. There was a pretty black box inside the discreet white one. I looked inside and thought , I wanted to make him a good dinner and sit and watch TV and chat with him. I didn’t want to see him reduced to ashes. I didn’t get to say goodbye , or even see his body after he passed away all alone.
My grandfather J.Fred Lytle was 96 years old when he died. I used to love listening to him talk about the depression and building his house , cedar grove before Shreveport absorbed it. He made cabinets , beautiful frames, fiddles ( he dubed them Lytlelynns. His wife my Granny was late 80’s when she died either 84 or 86. I would go up to Lytles when my kids were little and chit chat with my Granny. Both of them died at home with they’re family all around telling them , “its OK to go home , we love you and know its your time” we made sure they were clean and dry and comfy and surrounded with love. That is how it should be. Spend your life growing a family with love and respect and rules and you die in the home you have made with all your people around.
My father , David Frederick Lytle , worked his whole life. He left his mark on thecommunity. He helped people whenever he could , heade folks feel comfortable. He was smart , loved to read , and loved to share the information that he knew. Most of the time it was pretty interesting. He made lifelong friends and inspired loyalty in folks. He was my dad so sometimes we disagreed. I loved him and he never held my mistakes against me. He turned 72 this year on August 22. He had end stage emphysema among other things. He was on oxygen 24 hours a day. He was arrested on August 23 ,2016 , some very angry evil people didn’t like it when he would not let them continue to cuss him and steal his food and just make his last years shit. He evicted them and they told the police he molested the 12 year old neighbor girl. My dad had to wheel himself around in a wheelchair and just going to the bathroom right next to his room winded him. He loved children , he was not physically able to hurt a little child and he wouldn’t even if he could. I tried to make sure the guards and nurses at Caddo correctional center were aware of his medical needs and also were aware that he had people outside that cared. He was still denied adequate medical care on several occasions. On Friday November 4th I got a letter from my dads cellmate. He said daddy was different there was something bad wrong with him , he asked me to please come up there because he needed help. I had just been to see my dad on Wednesday and I had to call Kelly the nurse manager as soon as I got home. She felt like it was fine for my dad to be without his oxygen a total of 6 minutes a day. There was no where to plug in his concentrator at the nurses station where he had to go twice a day for a breathing treatment. She said it only took a minute and a half. I told her to hold her breathe for a minute and a half then multiply that feeling by 100 and she may understand how my dad felt. She finally agreed to have an oxygen bottle for him for that minute and a half. After receiving the letter on Friday I called Kelly once again. I said there is something wrong with my dad he needs a doctor. She said she was going to move him to the infirmary. I said well that only took 2 months , thank you. She didn’t mention the doctor. Dr. Nelson is the doc for CCC. He is also at LSU.
I saw my dad for the last time that night. He looked discombobulated. He told me he was sure that 2 of his grandkids weredead. I assured him that everyone was OK that we were worried about him. He looked at me through the glass with a look of disbelief and said ,” I don’t think I’ll make it out of here alive. He died on Sunday , alone in a jail cell. No family no one to even make sure he was comfy. All alone , no one even checked for god knows how long. He was in pain , he couldn’t breathe he wanted free from his tired old body. Not like that though.
Daddy , I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out of there. I’m sorry that was the last time I saw you. I love you and cherish the memories.
August 23 , 2016
Sam and I were chilling in the bed He was playing candy crush and I was working on my social media management business. ( yeah Facebook , I was on Facebook don’t judge me ! ) I thought I heard something in the kitchen , Sam went to check and there were 4 or 5 cops in the back room with they’re guns drawn. They ordered us outside , no explanation , why should they tell us why they are pointing guns at us making us stand outside and going through our meger belongings. We had to stand outside and speculate.
Finally detective belle from the sex crimes decision came to give us as little info as possible while finding out as much as we would tell them. He said he was investigating something the folks my dad was forced to get an eviction on told him. They were being evicted because they wouldn’t move , clean up , cook or help my dad at all. That was why they were there to help.
These evil bitches bragged about their plan. They were going to stay until my dad died , then take over the house. They even talked about turning off his oxygen. They sold all his food to the neighborhood kids. They locked his dishes , towels , cleaning supplies and bathroom items in they’re closet. They cussed at him and threatened him. Then when he said fuck this , got them out and ruined they’re plan. They made up a sex abuse story. So it’s my dad that gets arrested. My dad that has his face plastered everywhere with sex crimes attached , my dad behind bars.
Its also my dad that received poor care , my dad that was denied oxygen , my dad that was ignored by the guards , my dad that didn’t think he would get out of there alive. My dad that died alone and accused of things he wouldn’t do even if he were physically able.
There are so many things wrong with this , I can’t get them straight. My dad is dead. He should have been home. Rest in peace daddy
I saw him on Tuesday. He had 3 fellow inmates helping him get situated , plugged in his concentrater , wheeled him to the window , put in his code. It did my heart good to see these young men that get judged harshly for troubles with the law helping my sick father so much more than the professionals in charge of is care. They are all right in my book.
First thing my father asked me was “who is dead ?” I told him everyone was fine. He then told me the nurses made him go without his oxygen to get a breathing treatment. Daddy said it took about 5 minutes each way and he gets one twice a day. He seemed just amazed that he was being treated this way. He is charged with crimes some people that were very angry accused him of , awaiting trail. Innocent until proven guilty? Guess not.
When I got home I called the nurse manager, , we have spoken before. I asked why he didn’t get to have his oxygen on the way to his breathing treatment. Her story was “it only takes a minute and a half to get down there , there no where to plug it in and it won’t hurt anything.” My father had an order from the doctor at the facility he was at for oxygen 24 hours a day so the actions of the nurses not only went against doctors orders it caused a man who was compromised to begin with much discomfort and distress. My first suggestion to her was to hold her breath for a minute and a half times 2 , for one round trip then multiply that by 100 and she may see what my father feels like. She said she would send him with an oxygen bottle from now on , I said thank you.
A couple of days later I got a letter from his cellmate. Told me daddy was afraid I was dead or that my sister waI. He had a feeling someone was dead. He was even more confuse than before and he looked afraid. The cellmate said in his letter for me to please come up there that my daddy was different. Of course i did.
When i got to the jail that Friday my daddy had been moved to the infirmary , this happened after I called the nurse manager yet again this time because of the letter from his cellmate. Daddy told me with a laughter of disbelief that he didn’t think he would make it out alive. That was the last time I saw my dad. Sunday morning a Chaplin with the sheriff’s department came to my door. He said he had been at CCC where David Lytle was. I said oh did you talk to him ? No , he told me , he had not spoken to him. Then he told My my father had passed away due to complications from his COPD. These complications were because the nurses and guards didn’t think his oxygen was to awful important.
The news story covering my father’s death of course had to throw in the charges. He had not even had the opportunity to face his accusers. The 6 charges that were dropped were not mentioned , how convinent for CCC. They said it was natural causes.
I will not be quiet about the obvious disregard of a inmates. They just don’t care and now my father is dead.
My father has an arraignment Tuesday. The first one was on Sept 28, 2016. On that day my father was the last inmate to be brought before the judge. When he was wheeled into the courtroom tears started streaming down my face. Everyone else had to leave it was taking so long I was the only spectator left in the room. My dad was grey in color and struggling to breathe. The Public Defender assigned to him leaned over to whisper in his ear what was going on. As she did this the prosecutor walked across the room and got a paper towel and handed it too me. The public defender was trying to tell my father that since he was out of oxygen and unable to breathe the judge was postponing the arraignment another month.
Now call me crazy , I would think breathing would be an understood right for all humans ( unless of course they have been sentanced to death justly or not , even then they keep them breathing until the very last. What happened was his oxygen tank was not enough to last through hours of court. The bailiff that was guarding my father called the jail and requested another tank , they were denied. So another month he waits to profess his innocence , another month of his life taken due to carelessness and just not caring. Another month his tired old bones ache from the hard cot. Another month he is in pain because its not being treated. Another month taken because he is presumed guilty. What is right about this ? I can see nothing.
Another month I get messages from the girl he had to evict from his home , the one that made the accusations. She made a fake profile and thought she was being slick. I may be poor , some may even call me white trash ( I’m not bothered by it , they are ignorant ) one thing I most certainly am not is stupid. Underestimate me , go ahead. I love it.
I will continue to use all that I have my words , my voice , my social media savvy. I’ll take my screen shots and post my thoughts and I’ll not take shit from anyone. I’ll continue to call the jail and the PD and the nurses and whoever else I can think to damn call. I’ll write my letters and express my outrage at a system that let’s young white men from good family’s ( meaning people with means these days ) get no jail time for RAPING A 2 YEAR OLD AND STREAMING IT ON FACEBOOK. As my 72 year old father sit among strangers that believe he is a criminal instead of watching TV and eating the meals o feel guilty every day for preparing in his absence. Keep him in your thoughts dear reader. What would you do if you were faced with such a plight , I feel so helpless.
This blog is dedicated to my father who is 72 years old with multiple health issues and in jail waiting to be proven innocent instead of assumed guility. I have been let down by our justice system before and I expect to be let down again. I hope to be surprised and I hope my dad gets a chance to be vindicated. I hope , and I write , and I share and I pray. Thanks for reading