MUNCIE, Ind. — The calls would always come between 2 and 3 a.m. Sometimes they awoke Marlene Mitchell, but sometimes she was already up. She couldn’t sleep knowing her son was on the streets of Muncie for days on end, living as if he was homeless and searching for his next hit of cocaine.
She always wondered: Was he in jail? The hospital? Or was he dead? If it was Jamal’s voice on the line, she always knew what he wanted. A ride. Or money. Or both. Her husband of 43 years, James, usually told her not to go.