The Three of Them
An LVN nurse at the time of her death, JoAnn (Jo Jo) Harris’s departure breaks up a tightly knit trio of utterly inseparable young women, united every day since Ms. Harris was 2 years old. They grew up together on 60th Street — school days were spent at Budlong Elementary, Belvedere Junior High and Hamilton High School, before Ms. Harris graduated American Career College en route to her prized LVN, emulating her mother.
In their neighborhood, everybody knew the trio, by name, by face, by habit. Samura Cummings and her sister Schemika Marks teamed up early with Ms. Harris. Their cemented bond remained intact until the late afternoon of Friday, Aug. 24. Even though only two of them were related, all three regarded themselves as unbreakably bound, as close as true sisters.
Sweet Memories
“As a child, JoAnn lived on my block,” Samura Cummings said. “I was the younger sister. I always had to tag along with them. JoAnn was a friendly soul. She truly was an angel. She would give anything for a friend.
“Anything she put her mind to, she could do. She wanted to get her LVN license, and she did it. I love my sister JoAnn, and I always had her back. By that I mean, I always was the feisty one who would defend her if anybody said anything about her.”
Ms. Cummings became wistful. “I just wish I could have been (at the National Guard Armory) that day to have her back.”
The Service
At sharply 1 o’clock, after all guests had been seated, the family, led by her mother Martha Lou Harris and her brother Gerald Bennett, stepped down the center aisle in the chapel at the Angelus Funeral Home.
The ethereal sound of a misty piano, like a light rain shower of music, played in the distant background.
At the semi-circular front of the spacious, dimly lighted chapel, sheer, pinkish curtains silently were drawn back, presenting the open coffin of Ms. Harris, enriched by bowers of flowers, red roses and white roses.
The widowed Mrs. Harris and her only son Mr. Bennett sat in the corner of the first row, joined by Ms. Harris’s two older sisters, Deborah Bennett and Suzette Bennett.
‘Unforgettable’
Before the service began, a hauntingly beautiful recording of “Unforgettable,” a duet featuring Nat (King) Cole and his daughter Natalie, provided accompaniment for reflection time.
Mrs. Harris tried to be strong. But the deeply religious mother, a Jehovah’s Witness, began to shake, and tears flowed. The 6-foot-7 Mr. Bennett shifted even closer to his mother, wrapping his long, patting arm around her sloping right shoulder.
Several Scriptural passages were read by the Pastor Richard Horton.
A Time to Wander
But, as if on a fast-moving airplane darting across the skies, the minds of her relatives and friends drifted toward other times.
Addressing the congregation of mourners, Ms. Marks provided a most illuminating cascade of poignant insights.
Repeatedly, she emphasized the uncommon closeness the three of them had shared since their memories began recording.
To be more precise, Ms. Marks spoke directly to her departed friend.
“You were our sister, from another mother and another father,” Ms. Marks said. “We all had so much in common. We all had our own ideas.
“Schemika, JoAnn and Samura — we were like the Three Musketeers. When we convinced you to let us braid your hair, we called ourselves the Brady Bunch.
“We would vibe off each other’s unique ideas. We were the Triumphant Trio…our singing group, our dance group, our entrepreneurial ventures.
“Lemonade stands and cookie sales.
“We hung out from dusk ‘til dawn, ever since we were three years old. Every moment of our childhood — there wasn’t a moment we were not together.
“From the Police Academy picnics to bike rides to Jesse Owens’ and Harvard Park. Could you believe we walked six miles to view the riots? And we never even got tired.
“We caught the bus, and we rode for hours with you with no destination in sight. We sang our songs in recording studios together for people who said they would make us stars.
“The Comedy Store. Jerry’s Deli. Wings and Things. Roscoe’s. Mass Confusion. 7 Oasis. We had a ball.
“We were known as the Thousand-Dollar Girls at the YMCA. We were there for all of your crushes. You were there for ours.
“We got our first jobs together, our first apartment together.
“We were there when you just needed to get away from home. You were there when we needed to get away.
“We wanted to go places no one else went. We wanted to do things others couldn’t do.
“We leaned on each other. We learned from each other.
“JoAnn, I can’t even think of a moment of my childhood without you in it.
“We were sisters from another mother.
“Even as adults, when we hadn’t seen each other for awhile, it was like we never had been apart when we reconnected.
“We love you JoAnn. We just wish we could have been there for you.
“Don’t worry, sister. We will be back at it again — daring, sharing and caring.
“We love you always. Your sisters Schemika and Samura.”
For all of her accomplishments, friends say a treasured goal that eluded Ms. Harris was becoming an actress.
Before the casket was closed for the final time this afternoon, many in the chapel privately recalled Ms. Harris in her own words.
“I love to have fun. I am a free spirit who loves to travel. I enjoy nature and learning new things from good friends.
“My favorite musicians are Janis Joplin, the Doors, Jimi Hendrix and Nin.
“Rock ‘n roll!
“My career, nursing.
“I love to read. I love to write poems. Give me Anne Sexton. Give me Edgar Allen Poe.
“My (late) father was my inspiration. He always wanted me to be happy. In doing that, he taught me what love truly is, putting someone else’s happiness above your own.
“Remember me…”
