Leslie Franklin was a stupid, selfish, inconsiderate woman. She was a terrible wife and a worse mother. She had no job, no maternal instinct, and no sense of responsibility. Instead of being a parent, she leaned on her mother, father, and husband to take care of her three year old son Joey.
One hot summer day after the temperature had peaked to 102 degrees (Fahrenheit) and while her husband was at work, she decided to rendezvous with her boyfriend on the side. She had been sleeping with this man for six months under her husband’s nose. Leslie strapped young Joey into his car seat in the back of her 2002 Chevy Cavalier and pulled out of the garage. She must have been terribly excited to see her beau because when she arrived in his driveway she ran inside leaving her son in the car with the windows rolled up. Just a few hours was all it took for the heat to bake little Joey and when she returned later that evening she found her son dead, still strapped into his car seat. The paramedics arrived far too late to revive him.
She took her own life just a few weeks later. Her friends and family said it was grief, but in reality it was shame and fear of the legal ramifications she was facing that drove her to do it. Her husband sold the vehicle to a used car dealer in Dayton and moved half way across the country to start over, hoping to purge all memories of the nightmare that had become his life.
How do I know all this you might ask? The answer is simple. I bought that 2002 Chevy Cavalier from the used car dealer in Dayton and Joey tells me this story every time I drive it.