HOT SPRINGS — Velma Davis has never been abused by her husband, yet she shares the emotional and physical scars of so many victims of domestic violence.
Davis is giving voice to the victims of this nationwide problem with a memorial dedicated to her friend, Marilyn Davis, no relation, at the corner of Malvern Avenue and East Maurice Street in Hot Springs.
That is where Marilyn Davis’ estranged husband, Adam Davis, opened fire on June 16, 2007. Velma Davis, with a bullet in her back, watched from the ground only feet away as Adam Davis killed his wife.
“It was the day before Father’s Day. Marilyn and I had just walked out of her beauty salon, where she had done my hair and put false nails on me. As we walked outside I remember thinking, ‘I look good,’” Velma Davis recalled. “Shortly after we got in our cars so Marilyn could head back to Louisiana for a family reunion and I could go home, I heard a ‘boom’ and felt her car hit mine.
“When I looked in my rearview mirror a few moments later I saw Adam getting a gun out of his car, which had hit Marilyn’s car. I jumped out of my passenger seat window and saw him shoot Marilyn, then I just ran for my life until he shot me. I saw him shoot Marilyn one more time before I passed out.”
That moment forever changed three lives.
Velma Davis spent nearly a month in the hospital and began years of recuperation from the loss of 25 percent of one lung, complete loss of three ribs, partial loss of use in her left shoulder, and muscle damage in her back, all of which forced her to retire from her job of more than 14 years.
Adam Davis received a life sentence without parole forthe shooting death of Marilyn Davis and an additional 30 years for the attempt on Velma Davis’ life.
But the person who paid the ultimate price for the couple’s years of marital problems was Marilyn Davis, she said.
“I do not like violence at all, and in my 30 years of marriage I have never experienced domestic violence before this. I do not believe any person who would beat up on another and then tell them that they love them is worth the time. Adam never liked that Marilyn and I were friends, but I don’t think someone who loves you should tell you who you can and can’t be friends with,” Velma Davis said.
“Love isn’t about abuse or control at all and the memorial is meant to honor those who have died at the hands of an abusive, controlling partner.”
Domestic violence is an epidemic that spans every community, touching people of all ages, economic status, races, religions, nationalities, and educational backgrounds.
The only discriminatory factor may be sex. While men are also victims of domestic violence, the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence reports that women make up 85 percent of all domestic-violence victims, and it is believed that one in four women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime.
In a single year, the coalition estimates 1.3 millionwomen are physically assaulted by an intimate partner, but such violence is not confined to the most populated states or biggest cities.
Arkansas ranked fourth in the nation in the number of women murdered by men in 2007. Of the 33 Arkansas women killed by men that year, 24 victims knew their killers, according to the national FBI homicide reports, which also found that Arkansas ranked first in domesticabuse homicides where black women were victims.
For women and men who live in fear of someone who is supposed to love them, Velma Davis and her daughter-in-law, Amber Davis, hope the permanent memorial will bring much needed attention to their plight.
“Amber and I brought the memorial out this year to honor Marilyn and Amber’s friend, Melissa Portland, who was shot by her boyfriend in 2005,” she said.
“We want to remind people that victims of domestic violence come from this community, too, and we did our dedication of the memorial this year at 11:30 a.m., on June 16, the exact time the gunfire began in Hot Springs three years ago and changed so many lives forever.”
Velma Davis’ family was forced to develop a new “normal” since then, and the changes haven’t been fair to anyone, said her son, Robert Davis Jr.
“My mom can’t do things like she use to because of her injuries,” he said. “She used to be able to play more with the grandkids, but the medicine she has to take for her injuries makes her tired. It’s sad how this event impacted so many people and took away fun my kids use to have with their grandma.”
If the stories of life after domestic violence don’t shake abusers into changing their ways, Amber Davis wonders if visuals would wake them up.
“Melissa’s boyfriend should have had to look at her wounds, like the jury had to look at Velma’s wounds at Adam’s trial,” she said about the man who killed her longtime friend. “I think abusers should have to see what their violence has done to people, and maybe it will sink into their heads what they did. It’s an image an abuser should have to live with for the restof their lives.”
Memories of the shooting are forever etched in Velma Davis’ mind, but she has learned that her gunman needs to bear the burden of his actions, not her. She needs to go on living, she said.
“We had a long, messy process in the court system and I’ve had a lot to go through since Adam shot me,” Velma Davis said. “For a long time after the shooting, I would avoid the corner of East Maurice Street and Malvern Avenue, just so I didn’t have to see the place where Marilyn died, but I realized that I was letting Adam’s actions prevent me from moving freely in my hometown.
“That’s the problem with domestic violence - it takes away everyone’s freedom. Domestic violence ultimately takes away so much more than anyone ever gains from it.”
Arkansas, Pages 21 on 06/27/2010