#RememberThem: Vicki Marie Robinson Beasley Brown -- a special tribute from her sister Denise

I can already tell you that this will be the most powerful post on this blog, because it comes directly from a family member. I am very thankful to be able to give you this firsthand portrait of Vicki Beasley from her sister, Denise. Vicki had such an impact on her family that Denise's daughter went on to become a medical examiner, from her desire to help solve criminal cases like the one that claimed her aunt.

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A Special Woman

Vicki was a miracle baby. She was born at seven months, weighed three pounds and two ounces and was delivered at home by our Great Great Aunt Mozelle Perry, a midwife from Sylacauga, Talladega, Alabama.

Our parents were Verlyn Randolph “Ran” Robinson and Gloria Anita Lipscomb Anderson. Lynne is the oldest, Vicki the middle child and I am the youngest daughter.

We lived at 9586 Cardoni Street near the Dodge Main auto plant where our Great Grandfather Henry Arthur Savage worked for over 40 years. Our family lived downstairs, our Great Grandpa and Great Grandma Annie lived upstairs, our maternal Grandparents Magnolia and George Webb lived a few blocks away and our widowed paternal Grandmother Rosa lived on the Westside.

At one end of our block was our school, Maybee Elementary, and at the other end was St. George Lithuanian Catholic School at 1313 Westminister, which we attended for a year. We lived on the border of Hamtramck.

Vicki was a mischievous girl with a beautiful smile. She would pick up a worm or a bug and chase me nearly every day, but if I was playing and hurt myself, she was the first one to comfort me.

We played in the front of the house with our neighbors the Black sisters and our “play”cousin Sherrand Burton until the street lights came on signaling dinner time.

Vicki in eighth grade.

We made mud pies, played hide and seek and during the day, our Great Grandmother gave us Mason jars to catch butterflies in the flower filled lot behind us. We competed to see who could catch the most butterflies and we always set them free afterwards.

Our community was vibrant and successful. Everyone looked out for one another. The only time we bought anything outside our community was on Saturdays when we went to the Eastern Market and when we went downtown to Hudson’s Department Store twice a year for school shoes.

Our Dad died of a heart attack when he was 32 and I was 3. Two years later our widowed 27-year-old Mom met a returning disabled Korean veteran who was a jazz pianist and she remarried. Our stepfather Clarence adopted us and changed our last name to Beasley.

Although there were lots of gigs in Detroit (especially at the famous Blue Bird on Tireman Street) he was drawn to New York. Mom was hired as a backup singer for people like our godmother Della Reese. We stayed behind for about three months until Mom returned to fly us to New York to live.

Our home was on 90th street between Columbus Avenue and Central Park so the park was our playground before Madonna claimed it. We all excelled in school and loved our new home. Our Detroit family sent monthly goodies by Railway Express and money. Vicki always spent all of hers on candy.

There were always musicians and vocalists at our home. Our godfather Billy Mitchell, John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, Barry Harris, Hank, Thad and Elvin Jones, Dinah Washington and others. We were surrounded by music and spoiled!

When it became too difficult financially to keep us, our Great Grandmother and Grandmother came to take us back to Detroit. Although Mom called us every week, we didn’t see her again for four years. During that time Great Grandpa retired and received a gold watch. He died shortly afterwards. Great Grandma didn’t know how to get his pension, so our finances were greatly reduced.

When our parents returned to Detroit, we met our one-year-old brother. The next year, another brother was born. We soon began to feel that we were not important to our stepfather. Vicki and Lynne were both molested by a family member and life became harder. They both left home and moved in with our Great Grandmother and now widowed Grandmother.

Vicki initially was interested in nursing. She was a volunteer candy striper at a local hospital in her junior and senior years at Northwestern High. She was a petite doll and was named one of the seven prettiest girls of her senior class.

Vicki, far right, was voted one of the seven prettiest gals in her senior class. Another, far left, is author and playwright Pearl Cleage. Below, Vicki's senior class photo.

Vicki was an extremely talented artist and participated in a few citywide art shows. She was sought out by a Detroit art school while a senior but it was not a full scholarship so when she graduated, she started working at a Northland restaurant, where she met George “Lucky” Doucet. They had a daughter in 1967. Unfortunately, Lucky introduced Vicki to drugs, but she left him and was able to break that addiction at a rehab facility in California. Lucky was later killed in a robbery.

Vicki met Willie Rankin and they had a son. Willie worked at General Motors. They were together for about seven years. (He died of esophagus cancer two months before Vicki was murdered.)

Vicki later worked at a small manufacturing plant where she met Monroe Stanford. They had two daughters and were together for about three years. During this time, Vicki had a ectopic pregnancy and her fallopian tube ruptured. She almost died and had emergency surgery. The resulting spasms led her to take Carisoprodol (Soma), a prescription muscle relaxant, along with pain medication. She was never a “crack head.”

Vicki and Jerome Brown were married on July 6, 1989, a week before her 41st birthday. He had loved her since they first became friends in 1974. Monroe Stanford and Jerome Brown both died a few years ago.

I spoke with Vicki two days before she was missing. I tried calling her back the next night but the phone line was constantly busy. I found out after she was murdered that she went to buy cigarettes that night and took the phone off the hook so her young daughters wouldn’t wake up and so she wouldn’t disturb her older “play” Grandmother where they were staying temporarily.

My sister was a bright light in a sometimes dark world. She was funny, compassionate, trusting, and talented. She loved family and took care of her children the best she could with a sometimes limited income. She didn’t eat until they did. She kept them well-groomed and clean even if she had to wash their clothes by hand.

We all miss her and will love her forever.

Denise

Vicki, George Pierre Doucet and their daughter Renee at Vicki's parents' home in Detroit.

Vicki and her family in her younger years.

This post is part of a series on this blog that I am calling #RememberThem, a chance to honor the women who encountered the two Detroit serial killers I have researched, John Eric Armstrong and Benjamin ("Tony") Atkins. In this continuing series, with installments dropping every week or so, we first learn more about the women Armstrong was known to have killed in Detroit, plus two of his survivors, then we turn to the women who encountered Atkins. Click on the "Honoring the Victims" label on the left to see all of the parts in the series. Also see the #RememberThem series on YouTube.

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Photos courtesy of Vicki's sister Denise and daughter Renee and for use specifically on this blog and in The Crack City Strangler: The Homicides of Serial Killer Benjamin Atkins; any other use prohibited without permission.