The Mysterious Death of Jelani Day No Mystery, Contends Writer John W. Fountain; ‘Somebody Out There Knows’
If ever there was a case that begged for a federal investigation, it is this one. Not only a probe of the case itself but an investigation of the local investigation—top to bottom. Justice for Jelani
Editor’s Note:
What happened to Jelani Day?
The question lingers like a mother’s agony over the still unsolved death of her son. Nearly three years since Jelani, a 25-year-old-African-American graduate student at Illinois State University, was found floating lifeless in the mirky Illinois River, the case remains a mystery, even as his family celebrated his life recently at the 2nd Annual Remembrance Dinner sponsored by the Jelani Day Foundation.
Today there are still more questions than answers. None of them loom larger than the question that drew John Fountain to this case as a reporter that warm September in 2021.
According to police, Jelani drowned. But some things still don’t add up.
Jelani was an avid swimmer. His car was found abandoned miles from where his body was found. He was discovered miles from his university’s campus in the river in Peru, Illinois, a former sundown town. Jelani had every reason to live and not a single reason to want to die. His family is convinced he met with foul play. So are others.
Among them is John Fountain who believes that any road that leads to justice for Jelani will be paved by an independent investigation into his death by federal law enforcement authorities who might also provide a detailed report on the actions of local law enforcement officials from the time of Jelani’s disappearance to the discovery and identification of his body, up until now.
Today the case of Jelani Day isn’t breaking news. But it remains relevant to his family and loved ones and others still hoping for justice. This story echoes their call for justice, and, in fact, cosigns it. It is in itself an independent republication of Fountain’s award-winning, six-part series published initially in the Chicago Sun-Times—and here and now in its entirety for the first time, plus additional previously unpublished material.
Beginning with a column on Sunday, Sept. 26, 2021, Fountain launched a one-man feature-length journalistic investigation into the mystery surrounding Day’s death. At the time, the national news media were focused on the case of Gabrielle “Gabby” Petito—reported missing and subsequently found dead. Fountain’s stories not only brought to light the disparity in the American media’s coverage of the cases of whites versus Blacks and other minorities. By his passion and commitment, he told a tragic human story of one family’s loss and why we should all care.
The series involved tough shoe-leather reporting that took Fountain, a freelance columnist, to Peru, Illinois, accompanied by his brother Jeff; to Bloomington-Normal, where Fountain interviewed students shaken by news of their classmate’s death; to Champaign, Illinois, where Fountain interviewed Jelani’s family; and twice to Decatur, Illinois, to interview locals and also to cover Jelani’s funeral; then back again to Peru—all over the course of five weeks.
The series is wrenching, well-written and well-reported, and drew national attention, going viral at one point on Twitter and being the Sun-Times’ most read story, far eclipsing the readership of other stories in the paper. Indeed Fountain’s series unquestionably helped raise the national spotlight on Jelani’s case and hearkened the call to tell the stories of those often forgotten or overlooked. On the Sun-Times’ own pages, the stories on Jelani significantly exceeded readership numbers compared to previous Sundays with more than 80,000 page views at one point and nearly 104,000 engaged minutes.
For Fountain, it wasn’t about money. Not the lure of fame or fortune. He was not reimbursed for travel. Not paid for a single photo. In fact, he was compensated less than 50 cent a word, and not a penny more for the stories, which garnered numerous local, regional and national reporting awards.
“From the beginning, it was about justice for a young Black man,” Fountain said. “It was a labor of love for my people, for humanity’s sake, for a grieving mother suffering a broken heart, and for a good young man named Jelani Day.
“Jelani deserves justice. I refuse to see this case as a mystery because somebody out there knows. what happened to him. Somebody out there knows.”
‘Justice For Jelani’
Found In A Sundown Town – Part 1
By John W. Fountain
PERU, Ill., Sept. 23—HERE IN THIS “SUNDOWN TOWN,” population 10,300, where the Illinois River and a railroad stretch for miles across scenic emerald valley, a Black body was found nearly a month ago floating in the river and questions surrounding his death still swirl like a cool autumn wind.
I have driven here as a reporter on this sun-splashed day. An eagle glides above the haunting green Illinois Route 251 Bridge, where search crews reportedly found the body Sept. 4.
Standing above the river’s serene banks, I am well aware of the documented history of Peru and the adjoining town of LaSalle as having been among the hundreds of all-white Illinois towns and suburbs north of the Mason-Dixon line.
Sundown towns. All white communities where, once upon a time in America’s history, the written or unwritten warning for decades—before and long after the Civil War—to people who look like me was made clear:
We don't want your kind livin’ ‘round here.
Don’t let the sun go down on your Black ass.
N-words better be out of town by sundown.
Or risk the certain wrath of good townsfolk aiming to protect the status quo and keep out miscreants and riffraff, namely Black folks.
The vestiges of sundown culture and its stain still linger in cities and small towns across America. Remain seared into the consciousness of a generation of Black folk long well aware of the potential lethal hazards of being caught after dark in all- or mostly white town, some of which posted signs of warning. In nearby Ladd, the village president was recorded in August using the “N” word openly more than once during a public meeting in which the board debated whether to change a local creek’s name from “Negro Creek,” to Adams’ Creek in honor of a Black man who settled near the creek in 1829 and that was formerly known as Nigger Creek. Some here have acknowledged the existence recently of a QAnon billboard above a section of Interstate 80 near neighboring Utica. The city of Peru recently flew the Thin Blue Line flag, which symbolizes solidarity with police and which were carried by Trump protestors along with Confederacy flags during the January 6 insurrection.
The existence of sundown towns in American is not mere supposition on my part, but is well documented in a rather thick book—576 pages—by sociologist James W. Loewen, author of “Sundown Towns: A hidden Dimension of American Racism,” first published in 2005. Loewen, an American sociologist, historian, and author born in Decatur, Illinois, died Aug. 19, 2021, ironically six days before Jelani’s mother reported him missing.
I make no assertions about the current state of race relations or the current proclivity the quaint, aged city of Peru (92.9 percent white and 1.1 percent Black in 2021, according to the U.S. Census) has for the presence of Blacks as residents or simply passing through. Indeed I had not, before today, ever been to this river city that lies a stone’s throw from Starved Rock State Park and less than a two-hour’s drive from my home in suburban Chicago.
I have traveled here, self-assigned and compelled as a journalist and also as a Black man. Convicted by my conscience, and purposed in heart and craft, amid the national news media’s obsession with the story of a missing and apparently murdered white girl whilst stories of missing and murdered Black people continue to go largely MIA.
Like the story of the 51 mostly African-American women murdered in Chicago since 2001 and whose cases remain largely unsolved. Like the story of a missing young Black man who disappeared Aug. 24, from the campus of Illinois State University in Bloomington, about 64 miles south—the story of Jelani Day.
The disappearance of Jelani, a graduate student and handsome 25-year-old with a brilliant white smile and a bright future, troubles me. Not just because he is Black and reminds me of my son, or my beloved nephews and other young Black men who must walk this unenviable path in this Black skin that makes us targets in Black and in white America. But because Jelani is human. As human as Gabrielle “Gabby” Petito.
And ultimately because Jelani’s case deserves the same media attention. Because the disappearance of a white daughter is not greater than the disappearance of a Black son.
Gabby’s case appears to be solved. What happened to Jelani remains a mystery. His mother and family deserve answers.
I am not the national media. Just a trained Black journalist with one goddamn pen. But if I can use it to help bring some justice for Jelani, maybe shake out some truth, I figure it’s at least worth my time, talent and gas.
A bit nervous, I’ve asked my brother Jeff to ride with me to Sundown USA—trusting him, God, and Illinois Concealed Carry to return me safely home.
We drive into Peru, bound for the woods where police said they found Jelani’s car, and down by the river, where 11 days after Jelani disappeared, they found a Black body in this historic sundown town.
More Questions Than Answers – Part 2
PERU, Ill., Oct. 5—THE STEADY UNSENTIMENTAL FEMALE Google voice guides my brother Jeff and I to a wooded area here, “south of the Illinois Valley YMCA and due north of 12th Street and Westclox Avenue.” Pulling off Interstate 80, we snake through Peru, drive past the Illinois Valley YMCA, to where police said they recovered Jelani Day’s four-door sedan on Thursday, Aug. 26, one day after he had been reported missing. Nine days later, on Saturday, Sept. 4, at 9:47 a.m., searchers found a body floating in the Illinois River near the Illinois Route 251 Bridge.
The LaSalle County Coroner’s Office press release at the time did not identify the “decedent” as male or female, black or white, and gave no hint whether the corpse found floating even remotely matched Jelani’s nearly 6-foot frame. The mystery swelled like the pain of a mother’s broken heart.
The discovery of a body only raised more questions, shook Jelani’s mother Carmen Bolden Day, to the core. A petite, mocha-brown woman whose Dentyne smile mirrors her son’s, Day, 49, mulled over the possibility that the dead body could turn out to be her baby boy.
She hoped not. Prayed not. Chose to keep believing that Jelani would be found safe and sound—even in the days and weeks that followed with no definitive word from the authorities on the corpse’s identity.
And yet, there was no solace, no answers, to be found in Peru. Not yet. Only questions. Lingering questions amid an unfolding surreal, if not bizarre, case that Day and her family found themselves facing with relentless dread, and wishing, hoping, that it was only a bad dream from which they might soon suddenly awaken.
The absence of answers and progress early on led Jelani’s mom to press investigators to act with more urgency and intensity. She still wonders why they didn’t search the river that first week after the discovery of Jelani’s white 2010 Chrysler 300, which had belonged to his grandfather who died in October 2014, and whose name Jelani bears as one of his two middle names. His mother was proud that Jelani had recently fixed up his grandfather’s car, working and paying off the cost of repairs.
That car was found with its license plates removed, and with no sign of the keys, or Jelani.
Day wonders whether an earlier search, rather than the passage of nine days before a police search of the river, which turned up a body, might have made a difference, might have yielded more answers, evidence, or perhaps clues about what happened to her son. A son who was once on his school’s swim team, an avid swimmer, who didn't just end up in a river, in a town an hour’s drive north of his Illinois State University campus.
A Son of Danville
Jelani Jesse Javontae Day was born on a pre-summer Saturday in June 1996. At 7 pounds, 9 ounces, and 21 inches long, he was the fourth of his parents’ (Carmen and Seve Day) five children, and the youngest of three sons.
The married couple poured their heart and soul into raising their children in rural Danville, Illinois. Day plied her children with scriptures. Taught them to be respectful. She and her husband pushed their children away from complacency and the entrapments of poverty, gangs and drugs—evident even in small town America—toward education and academic excellence. All five would earn college degrees.
“Miss Carmen’s kids,” as Jelani and his siblings were known, were raised in the Church of God In Christ, where the Word of the Lord, nightly bedtime prayers and even good old-fashioned church shut-ins were a way of life.
She cautioned her boys especially, telling them that they had been born already with two strikes: One—the color of their skin. Two—abeing both Black and male.
“A good name is better than riches,” she often told her sons. A good name, no one can take from you…
Jelani, in Swahili, means “great, powerful,” full of strength. By all accounts, he was a good young man with a future as bright as his grandfather’s white 2010 Chrysler 300 with its black cloth top and handsome chrome wheels—a car found inauspiciously in Peru.
‘A Million Reasons to Live’
My brother and I spy a faint creek beneath this wooded area where Jelani’s car was found. We note the apparent tire tracks and trample of brush that might have served as a good covering to ditch and conceal a car. And we note a piece of orange marker tape, but the absence of anything else that might mark this area as a potential crime scene.
As we stand upon grass and soil, we have just learned—more than two weeks after the authorities discovered it—that the body found floating in the river has been identified as Jelani Day.
On Sept. 7, the coroner’s office had released a statement saying that a “preliminary autopsy” on Sept. 5, had determined the body to be male but that it would take “several weeks to months” to make positive identification due to “the condition of the recovered body.”
On the day my brother and I traveled to Peru, the coroner’s office told me on the phone that a statement, alas—19 days after a body was found—would be forthcoming. A press release popped into my email confirming what I had already suspected.
“LaSalle County Coroner’s Office identifies the male body located on 9/4/21; body confirmed to be missing person Jelani Day.”
Cause of death: Still unknown.
What happened to a young man so full of life, zest and promise, a vivacious mama’s boy so beloved by family and friends? A son beloved by a father who has cancer and for whom Jelani was planning to donate bone marrow.
A young Black man who already had defied the odds in a world, even in the city of Danville—a hardscrabble town in a former coal mining area—the kind of place known to make you or break you.
A graduate of Alabama A&M University, Jelani enrolled this fall at Illinois State with aspirations of becoming a doctor. His chosen major was speech pathology as he sought to make good on a childhood promise born of his friendship and compassion for a little boy who was teased for a speech impediment.
A member of Omega Psi Phi fraternity, Jelani was full of hope and vigor. And he was looking forward to the next leg of his academic journey, to life and also to traveling with family to Destin, Florida, this Thanksgiving.
He had a million reasons to live, not die.
Standing at the wooded area beneath the YMCA, two things are clear to me: That this secluded spot is likely one that only a local might know. And that with the Illinois River, about two miles away, it seems unlikely that a young Black man parked his car here, then walked through a nearly all-white town without being seen, to jump in those rippling river waters almost naked.
Aided by Google, we drive toward the Illinois Route 251 Bridge, where the authorities pulled a young Black man’s body from the water, still in search of answers and Justice for Jelani.
Skin And Bones – Part 3
PERU, Illinois, Oct. 10—IT WAS A PREMATURE autopsy on an opaque, near faceless and scalp-less body that not even a mother might recognize. The waterlogged corpse lay in the possession of the LaSalle County Coroner’s Office for 24 days.
Even after the authorities finally made positive identification reportedly through dental records and DNA, Carmen Bolden Day still had not been allowed to see the body that the authorities eventually said was her son Jelani Day, 25.
But how could she know if it was her Jelani, unless she had a chance to finally lay eyes on the body—even as a decomposed refrigerated shell?
How could she know? How could she rest, know for certain in her heart that it was her son, or ever have some semblance of peace and acceptance, unless, or until, she had perhaps had the chance to scan the body from head to toe? A little while to search for signs, no matter how seemingly insignificant, that the autopsied body was indeed her baby boy?
Some things a mother knows. Some things are unimaginable. Some things just don’t add up. Some things about this case just ain’t right because they just ain’t right.
Some things make absolutely no sense. Some things only God knows. Some things--even a puzzling mystery—can, in time, come to the light.
But some things no mother should have to endure. Among them: Having to wait nearly a month for the chance to view a body that might be her dead son. Among them: Sensing a lack of urgency by police to initially search for her son, even after his car was found in a wooded area in Peru a day after he had been reported missing.
Also among them: An unnerving, painstaking wait of more than two weeks for the authorities to at last identify the body; and the perceived lack of empathy shown to a grieving Black mother of a dead or possibly still missing Black son, which in itself begs the question:
Would Jelani Day’s case have been handled differently if he were not Black and male but a woman who was white and blonde?
This much is clear as black and white: That someone knows what or who brought this handsome, promising young Black male graduate student to this town, population 0.4 percent African American, and 60 miles north of his college campus, where he was studying to be a doctor.
Clear is that someone knows how Jelani ended up floating dead in the Illinois River. And that even as the authorities continue to call the case of Jelani’s demise a “death investigation,” there is something foul about this case that stinks to high heaven and that cries out for answers, and for justice for Jelani.
Still Waiting
Weeks after Jelani was reported missing by his mother on Aug. 25, the case had remained unsolved and the circumstances surrounding his death a swirling mystery.
The dreaded call came nearly a month later in September as Day was on the phone with her attorney. The other line buzzed. Day answered. It was the LaSalle County coroner's office.
She remembers the excitement that filled the coroner’s voice as he bubbled with “good news” about the case. The office had received new dental records, she recalls the coroner telling her, explaining they were now prepared to possibly make positive ID. Wait a minute, huh, what… Day sat dazed and confused.
Weeks earlier, she and other family members had complied with the coroner’s request to submit to DNA testing. Both the mother and her attorney, Hallie M. Bezner, said they had also earlier been informed that the coroner had removed one of the corpse's tibia bones and sent it out for DNA analysis, something that left Day disturbed and puzzled.
Why would they need to do something seemingly so drastic for a DNA sample?
Day said she had also previously contacted the coroner to provide her son's dental records, in her earnest hope for answers, though with no word back from the coroner until eight days after she’d left her first message. She waited. And waited. And waited, hope fading like the last glow of a sinking summer sun.
So when the coroner finally rang with news on Sept. 22, about a possible ID due to the acquisition of “new” dental records, Day, quite naturally, had questions. Day’s questions and her attempt to get a better understanding apparently perturbed the coroner, she says. For his next words fell harshly.
“Do you want us to identify your son or not?” Day recalls him barking.
Day sat aghast, without words, tears swelling. Her attorney, whom Day had merged on the call, suddenly lit into the coroner. Bezner recalled telling him he had no “f---ing” right to speak to Day that way.
A day later, the coroner’s office made positive ID. After notifying the family, they released the news to the press. It was Jelani Day, they said. That was their determination.
But there is a yearning for a mother to see even a dead son. Except she would have to wait, still.
‘Heartbreaking, For Sure’
The corpse had no eyeballs, only sockets. The river’s water had run her course, soaking the body through and through.
The body was missing its front top and bottom teeth, Day and Bezner said, citing a second autopsy performed by a private forensic pathologist at the request of the family. His jawbone had been “sawed out.”
The family’s private forensic pathologist, could find no brain, according to Day and her attorney. No organs. Neither liver. Nor spleen.
Bezner said the LaSalle County coroner had explained that, according to their pathology report, the organs were “completely liquefied.”
The body had suffered innumerable fish and turtle bites and was maggot infested, said Bezner, citing information both she and Day said they received from the LaSalle County Coroner’s Office, which has not yet released its autopsy report to the family, according to Day and Bezner.
The genitalia were unidentifiable, according to the private forensic pathologist’s report, but determined to be “flayed,” according to the county coroner’s forensic pathologist, Bezner said.
Bezner said she continues to investigate, to seek plausible, perhaps scientific explanations, for the severely decomposed state of Jelani’s body while keeping an open mind, though no question rings more loudly than this one: What on earth happened to Jelani?
“I’m really trying to ask questions and not go down the path of a lot of conspiracy because I think it’s easy to go that way,” Bezner said.
Finally, 23 days after it was pulled from the river, four days after the authorities identified him, Jelani Day’s body was released.
Two days later, on a cool autumn Wednesday, on Sept. 29, a grief-stricken mother and her family gathered at the funeral home, where Jelani lay, to pray.
The mother wanted to lay her eyes on her baby boy. But Bezner advised her against it.
“He was in such bad shape,” she explained. “It’s just a heartbreaking story, for sure.”
Only Jelani’s grandmother and one of his brothers viewed his remains. Remains that his mother still wonders whether they are really her son’s or not, even as she prepares to celebrate his life at a closed-casket service this weekend in his hometown of Danville.
Even as she prepares to lay her baby boy to rest and his blood cries out for justice.
Homegoing – Part 4
DANVILLE, Ill., Oct. 9—JELANI DAY RETURNED HOME, a radiant, good and honorable native son, where inside his old high school, pictures of Jelani's 25 years of an extraordinary life lived but that was unjustly cut short lined the main hallway.
His remains lay in a closed mahogany-colored casket highlighted in bronze and topped with a spray of white flowers. His casket was flanked by a multicolored assortment of dozens of roses and other floral arrangements that shone as vibrantly as the life that friends and family here say Jelani lived until his death.
Amid the presence of an undeniable sorrow and also the chorus for justice, which rang throughout the service held at Danville High School, there was a celebration of the life of Jelani Jesse Javontae Day whose body was found Sept. 4, floating in the Illinois River in Peru, Illinois.
It was unquestionably a celebration of the life of the Illinois State University graduate student, despite the mystery and questions surrounding his disappearance and death.
The more than 3½-hour afternoon service, which began at noon and that was held in Dick Van Dyke Auditorium, flowed with tears and with music, with prayers and praise. There were also messages of faith and hope.
Perhaps no message rang more loudly than the declaration that it ain't over. Not Jelani's life. Not his legacy or light. Not the demand for justice for Jelani Day.
“The journey does not stop here," his mother Carmen Bolden Day told mourners. "I’m only getting ready to lay Jelani to rest. But I can't rest because I don't know what happened to him…
“Whoever you are, I want you to know, your time will come,” the mother continued as the crowd rang out in support. “Jelani did not deserve this.”
Throughout the service, there were expressions of love and of gratitude for having been touched by a light called Jelani. Among them was his childhood friend Paul DeArmond, 26, who spoke of their ties since kindergarten, of their fondness and love for each other, and of how Jelani's desire to become a speech pathologist was birthed by his desire to help him.
The service began as a preacher declared from the podium, “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?” The choir, dressed in black, some holding red roses, sang, “Praise Him, Praise, Him... Jesus, blessed savior, is worthy to be praised.”
The drummer beat slowly, the melodic keys of a piano drifting toward heaven, filling this high school auditorium turned sanctuary.
Jelani’s family filed in, walking down center aisle as mourners stood, the crowd stretching even to the balcony. Hundreds of mourners attended the service, some wiping away tears, others trying to fight them back.
Soon, the song, “Jesus Loves Me” spilled from the auditorium’s speakers as young people lined up to present red roses, one by one, to Jelani's mother and the immediate family, the sobs of one woman rising.
The choir sang: “The best is yet to come,” their joyful noise seeking to lift the spirits of those who gathered here and who grappled with a sense of not only sorrow, but disbelief and horror over Jelani’s death.
“We're praying for their strength,” the program moderator said. “We're praying for their strength...”
“Lord we need your help right now,” a preacher prayed. “...Lord we ask you to heal the land.... You're able to heal…”
There were prayers for healing. Prayers for strength. Prayers for answers. Prayers for justice. And there were reassurances that: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
There were hands. Hands lifted in praise. Hands outstretched for divine strength. Hands reaching for tissues to wipe away a flood of tears. And hands that rested upon shoulders in comfort for this abrupt farewell to a life ended at 25 years young amid the echoing question: “What happened to Jelani Day?”
There was also wailing--the unbearable audible release of sorrow too heavy to hold—that rose intermittently amid this grief-stricken assembly.
And yet, there was also celebration. In the old-time church way. The evoking of “Hallelujahs” and “Glorys” that have long soothed the souls of Black folk, even amid the endurance of unspeakable horrors, and which stirred the crowd, even if momentarily.
And there were remembrances. Of Jelani as a church boy, of Jelani singing in the choir. Of his laughter. Of growing up.
And on today, there was the blessed assurance, one speaker told mourners that Jelani “now has exchanged his white coat for a white robe."
And there was a promise, a vow, to seek answers and justice for Jelani Day.
Rivers And Tears – Part 5
PERU, Illinois, Oct. 14—Speak river. If only these rivers could speak. If these rippling, reflecting waters in this town could talk. Could testify of the horror endured by Jelani Day.
If this flowing tributary could reveal the truth in precise fact and unmitigated detail how Jelani’s near-naked, mortal Black body came to be submersed in this snaking Illinois River that stretches 273 miles to the Mighty Mississippi. If only this river—once upon a time a burgeoning trade route through this scenic valley—could speak.
If its banks could merely whisper her darkest secrets. Her revelations might solve the mystery of what happened to the 25-year-old graduate student at Illinois State University, reported missing Aug. 25, and whose body was found floating face-down in these waters on Sept. 4, near the Illinois Route 251 Bridge that looms like a haunting green relic from a bygone era.
Speak river…
If only this river could talk, it might help bring some measure of solace to a grieving mother who—nearly eight weeks after her son disappeared from his college campus 60 miles south of here—is still searching.
For answers. For truth. Still longing for proof that the near skeletal remains returned to her and identified by the authorities as Jelani Day—is indeed her baby boy.
But because rivers cannot speak—because Carmen Bolden Day understandably believes she has more reason to trust her gut and knowledge of the son she raised than the authorities investigating her son’s death; and because there is so much about this case—from the body’s condition, to the fact that his car was found about two miles away from where the body was found with its license plates removed, to his school lanyard and his wallet being discovered reportedly at separate locations in nearby LaSalle—she cannot rest.
Cannot properly grieve. Cannot dry the flood of tears. Cannot begin the process of mending her broken heart and wounded soul. Cannot lay her son Jelani to rest. Not yet.
Not until, or unless, she is 100 percent certain that those remains in the mahogany-colored casket that graced the front of the Danville High School auditorium a week ago for services commemorating the life of a good son, is Jelani. Not yet.
Though her agonizing wait for answers lingers. Not yet.
‘A Race Story’
I traveled to Peru, having never been here before, with my brother Jeff, on a warm Sept. 23, Thursday, having felt compelled as a journalist to seek the truth about Jelani. To tell his story. To humanize and try to shine some light.
I honestly hadn't heard about Jelani’s disappearance until days earlier after posting a story I had written on social media about the glaring disparity by national news media in its treatment of the Gabrielle “Gabby” Petito case versus the cases of women of color.
“And the missing ISU Black male isn't in the national news either,” a former colleague wrote on my post.
I checked it out. The stories I found were mainly local. They depicted a worried and impassioned, yet articulate and determined mother, critical of the national news media for covering Petito’s story fervently but ignoring her son’s. It is a well-documented tendency to which I can attest as a Black reporter who, over a 30-year career, has graced some of American journalism’s most hallowed halls.
I was compelled by Day’s plea. Moved, unapologetically, by the tears and grief of a woman who is Black like me, and mother to a missing son, Black like mine.
It wasn’t the color of their skin alone that moved me to lend my pen as a newspaper columnist to the telling of Jelani and his mother’s story, to try and shake out some truth.
It was, however, undeniably the element of “race” that drew me in. For this is a race story. Not Black, not white, but no less about race: the human race.
And yet, the details of Jelani’s story, filtered through the context of my own traumatic DNA embedded in my soul as a Black man in America, quite frankly, conjured visions of Emmett Till, of strange fruit dangling from poplar trees, and centuries of lynching, of flaying and various and sundry desecrations of the Black body in towns across America from sea to shining sea.
I have said from the beginning, “I make no assertions about” Peru. But neither can I deny history—even the history of an America that from slavery to Jim Crow to George Floyd causes the hearts and souls of Black folk to consider the possibility of racial hate as a factor when a young Black male body turns up dead in a river in a largely all-white town—even if it turns out not to be the case.
Even if it makes some uncomfortable. Even if some would rather forget, deny the facts of history. Jelani Day’s dead body was found floating in the river here. Facts.
In Peru, I spoke with Richard Cinotto, 58, owner of the Riverfront Bar & Grill, a fine establishment. Everyone was nice, kind, cordial. They said my brother and I were more than welcome to enjoy a sandwich and a beer at the restaurant where a flier about Jelani’s missing hung on the front door.
I inquired about how it got there. A waitress explained that the daughter of another waitress who attends Jelani’s university had asked if she could tape it there, where we saw it on the afternoon the authorities identified the body pulled from the river as Jelani.
Some yards away, my brother Jeff and I glared across the Illinois River, standing near a small sedan where a jovial elderly white man with white hair directed our attention to where the body was found. His name was Larry Brafman, he was 80, he said.
“There have been bodies in the river, a few, over the years, here and there, either a suicide, or… he said then paused. There have been bodies found in the river.”
Speak river…
Still Rivers To Cross
How does a promising young Black man, full of life, with a bright future and a million and one reasons to live, end up floating dead in the Illinois River in the town of Peru, 60 miles north of his college campus?
What, or perhaps who, would lead a young Black man to a town with the population of 0.4 percent African Americans?
Those were among the immediate questions that swirled inside my head as I began my journalistic search. There were others, but none more pressing or persistent than: What happened to Jelani?
More than three weeks later, and after having traveled to Peru-LaSalle, to Bloomington and twice to Danville—and after having interviewed, researched, wrestled with this case, and shed tears over the details uncovered about Jelani’s unrecognizable body, and having witnessed his mother’s wincing pain—I still don't have answers.
But someone does. Someone out there knows exactly what happened to Jelani Day. Someone bore witness to that horror. Someone knows.
Whatever happened, this much I believe: He did not jump in that river. Not in a million years. Jelani was murdered. Plain and simple, it was murder. (As a columnist, I am allowed to say what I believe. And that does not prevent police investigators from doing their job to get to the bottom of this case.)
I believe that if ever there was a case that called for a federal investigation, it is this one. Not only a probe of the case itself but an investigation of the local investigation—from top to bottom—that so far has publicly yielded few answers.
This much I also believe: That there are good people in Peru. And that they don't deserve any aspersions being cast about their good town, where a young Black man’s body was found this summer, floating face-down in the river.
Indeed the good people of Peru may be key ultimately in helping to solve this mystery—because rivers can’t speak.
About 150 miles away, a grieving mother waits for answers. Private investigators for the family this week unsealed the mahogany casket, seeking evidence and truth, including DNA so that Carmen Bolden Day can be certain that the remains inside are Jelani.
So that she can at least, at last, bury her son. Even as she fights, prays, hopes, and waits for justice for Jelani.
Even as there are still rivers for this grieving mother to cross.
Remembrance – Part 6
NORMAL, Illinois, Aug. 28 2022—Nearly a year to the day he vanished like a vapor, his lifeless body to be discovered days later floating in the muddy Illinois River in a former “sundown town,” family and friends gathered here in this Midwest college town to remember Jelani Day.
To the campus of Illinois State University, where Jelani was just beginning his first year as a graduate student last August, they flocked this afternoon, most dressed in all-white. They gathered inside an elegant candle-lit ballroom filled with white cloth-topped roundtables and portraits of Jelani Day.
At ISU’s Bone Student Center, they celebrated the “life and legacy” of a son of Danville, Illinois, dead at age 25. To say his name. To let the world know that Jelani is not forgotten. And to launch—at the $50-ticketed event—the Jelani Day Foundation in the hope of helping others.
Purple, white and gold balloons lined the stage near a giant neon-lit white sign that read: "JJDay." The sign was anchored by a big red heart and, nearby, a smiling portrait of Jelani, which shimmered golden in the light.
There were expressions of joy as those who knew and loved Jelani remembered him. For the way he smiled and cared for others. As friend, brother, son. They celebrated Jelani’s life in dance, words and song.
But inasmuch as the air was filled with celebration, memorials and purpose, questions surrounding the case swirled. And a mother’s heart remained broken over the still lingering mystery of her son’s death, which she believes was due to foul play. More than 365 days since her son disappeared, this much is clear: The quest to find out what really happened to Jelani wages on.
“I don’t know what happened to Jelani,” his mother Carmen Bolden Day said in an interview last week. “I would not want another family to endure what my family has endured…”
Bolden Day, her family and others contend that someone knows what or who brought this handsome, promising young Black male graduate student to the town of Peru, population 0.4 percent African American, and 60 miles north of his college campus, where Jelani was studying to be a doctor.
“We know that Jelani did not kill himself. We are here seeking justice for Jelani,” said Jonathan Jackson, speaking at the event for Rainbow/PUSH. “What do we want? We want justice for Jelani,” said Jackson, renewing the call for the Illinois Attorney General’s office to investigate the case.
Through their not-for-profit established in Jelani’s name, Bolden Day says she wants to provide help for other families in similar situations, including legal counsel, advice on securing press coverage, and other assistance.
Bolden Day said law enforcement’s “investigation” into Jelani’s death to date has proven fruitless, adding that she has serious questions about their commitment to the case. Bolden Day has remained vigilant, seeking evidence on her own. A year later, she concedes that she is left with more questions than answers. With a collection of cellphone photos she snapped recently of Jelani’s car, a white 2010 Chrysler 300, still being held by police. She says Peru police officials on August 17, allowed her to view her son’s car.
She was shocked to see her son’s car—covered by a bluish gray tarp and outside in the elements—the red police tape that investigators apparently had placed on the doors to seal them all broken, she says. Inside the car, she saw a dollar bill in plain view, loose coins in the console, a pair of her son’s shoes on the floor, a T-shirt and shorts, mail and even a suitcase. All there. Not bagged. Not tagged. Not in safekeeping in some police evidence room somewhere.
“It made me angry. Everything is just laying in his car as if they’ve just pulled it up,” she said. It’s like they keep smacking me in my face…like Jelani means nothing,” Bolden Day said.
For those who gathered Saturday in his memory, Jelani means everything.
Coming Next Week: “I Said What I Said”
For more information on the Jelani Day Foundation visit: http://www.thejelanidayfoundation.org
#JusticeforJelani
Email: Author@johnwfountain.com
Mr Fountain, I am so glad you are not letting this case go away. This is horrible and Jelani deserved everything being done. Is it possible to get independent investigators and another autopsy. And have his car and belongings scrubbed for clues. You are so right Black people deserve the same thing as others. And until things are equal, that will not happen. Is it possible to start a Go Fund Me Fund to reopen an investigation without people from the area where Jalani was found
Really independent investigators! By the way I am white and 82. Raised on the southside.