...saw her once at a store where she was working.

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.

Strawberries, cherries and an angel's kiss in spring
My summer wine is really made from all these things

I walked in town on silver spurs that jingled to
A song that I had only sang to just a few
She saw my silver spurs and said, Let's pass some time
And I will give to you summer wine, Oh-oh summer wine Nancy Sinatra & F. Lee Hazelwood

The below correspondence is in The Buffalo News Friday 24 September 2010;
CITY & REGION section. I just found myself thoroughly absorbed by the story.

It is a story that reads better than a Joyce Carroll Oates novel. Like Oates, of Lockport NY, this story is 'local'. It is a love story; protagonist, antagonist, and damsel-in-distress. In it, are all the elements of forgotten love, second chances, reconnecting, fate meetings, rekindled love, intrigue, cloak & dagger, and ultimately~~~tragedy. Interwoven through all of this, there exists the animation, engagement, and playfulness of two romantically-involved lovers exchanging comment-teases on one of today's ubiquitous Social-Network Sites. Even those of a maturing-age, are finding that these avenues of correspondence, are a vital way of expressing attraction, devotion, and the promise of a future together.


Before Steve Rothrock boarded an airplane in Florida early Wednesday to come rescue the love of his life from an abusive relationship in Buffalo, he posted a message on her Facebook page: "Wednesday is the first day of the rest of our lives together."

But by that afternoon, Joy Giessert Rizzo was dead, at the hands of the man she was trying to flee.

"It's so terrible," Rothrock told The Buffalo News on Thursday, trying not to cry, "because it was actually the last day."

The Town of Tonawanda native had planned to bring Rizzo -- whom he'd known since childhood and had recently reconnected with over the Internet -- back to his new home in Freeport, Fla., where they planned to start a new life together.

Instead, Rothrock was heartsick with grief after Rizzo, 49, was fatally shot by her ex-boyfriend, Andrew Soos, 51, who then killed himself.

"I was always worried about her, her safety," Rothrock, 50, said.

When he would call her, he'd hear Soos in the background. She'd yell to Soos: "I hate you. Get out of here."

"He wouldn't leave," Rothrock said. "He would stand behind her when she was on her computer. He watched everything she did."

Rizzo's neighbors in northwest Buffalo said Rizzo and Soos would often have loud quarrels, frequently in the middle of the street.

Then about a month ago, Rothrock said, Soos "slung her across the room." She called the police and later got a restraining order against him.

"But she always let him back to get personal items and to see [their 12-year-old son]," Rothrock said.

Rizzo had told Rothrock that Soos' former wife was killed in 1996. Her nude body was found in her car behind a bar on Niagara Street, according to police. Rizzo told Rothrock she believed that Soos murdered her, although he had always denied it to her. The case remains unsolved, although Cold Case Squad detectives had recently began reviewing the homicide.

"I wanted her out," Rothrock said of Rizzo. "She was in danger with this guy."

Rothrock and Rizzo had known each other when they were growing up in Tonawanda. "We were in love when we were kids," he recalled. "We were 10 and 11 years old. We were best friends. We'd go ice skating. I was always at her house, and she was always at my house."

They lost touch, but Rothrock always had feelings for her, he said, and saw her once at a store where she was working. "I stopped going because it hurt me so much," he said.

Years passed, and then in March, Rothrock saw her name pop up on a mutual friend's Facebook page.

Rothrock was married, and Rizzo was still involved with Soos. Eventually they realized neither was happy.

"It came out that I was miserable, and she was miserable," Rothrock said.

A romance bloomed.

After Rizzo got the restraining order, they started making plans for her to move to Florida.

Rizzo was eager to move but didn't want to just pick up and leave.

"If it was my choice, I would have just sent a ticket for her to fly down," Rothrock said, "... but she didn't want to do that."

Rothrock made plans to fly up to Buffalo, rent a moving truck and then help Rizzo pack up her belongings and head to Florida. He also bought a plane ticket for Rizzo's young son to come join them in two weeks.

Rothrock didn't want Rizzo to tell Soos about the plan, but he found out.

"I told her not to tell him," he said. "It needed to be a quiet thing when he's not around."

Three days before the shooting, neighbors described hearing Soos scream at Rizzo: "Over my dead body!"

That same day, she posted a message on Facebook: "My man is coming to get me this Wednesday. We are leaving for Freeport."

"Can I meet him?" Rothrock had jokingly responded on the Web page.

"You already know him very well," she replied.

Tuesday night, she wrote on her page: "One of my last posts before I pack my computer. But I just want to thank all my friends for all the good wishes for me. It really means a lot."

Rothrock left his home Wednesday morning and called Rizzo on his cell phone at 6:30 a.m. He'd had trouble printing his boarding pass for his second flight, from Atlanta to Buffalo, and was worried he wouldn't make his flight.

"Stop being so pessimistic," she told him. "You'll get it."

She was right, and Rothrock called her before getting on the plane. She didn't answer.

When his plane landed in Atlanta a little after 10 a.m., he called again. She still didn't answer.

"That's when the panic started setting in," he said. "She knew I was going to call from Atlanta."

And Rizzo always answered his phone calls.

Rothrock arrived in Buffalo just before 1 p.m. and tried in vain to call Rizzo again. She was supposed to be at the airport with her cousin, but neither showed up.

He scrambled through the airport to find a phone book and looked up the cousin's business number. He called, and a woman there put him in touch with the cousin. He asked the cousin to call the police.

Rothrock began calling domestic-abuse hotlines and eventually one connected him to a traffic unit in Buffalo.

In the meantime, the cousin had called Buffalo police as well. An officer was dispatched to Rizzo's apartment on Tuxedo Place for a "welfare check" at 1:56 p.m., according to police. The call was later cleared, however, when no answer was received and there was nothing "out of the ordinary or anything to arouse suspicion," according to Dennis J. Richards, chief of detectives.

Rothrock decided to rent a car and headed into the city. He was driving on Niagara Street when he saw two patrol cars parked on the side of the road.

"I turned around and did a bunch of crazy maneuvers in front of them," Rothrock said. He jumped out of his car and told them he thought Rizzo was in danger. The officers asked him for her address, and they said they had just been at the house.

"They said, 'We knocked on the door, and nobody answered,'" Rothrock said.

Believing that something was terribly wrong, he burst into tears and begged the officers to go back.

They agreed, radioed in the second call at 2:49 p.m. and began banging on the door. Finally, the neighbor upstairs said, 'I'll call the landlord to see if he can get a key,'" Rothrock said.

The landlord came and the police officers went inside the apartment at 3:36 p.m. Rothrock stayed in his rental car, worried that his presence might upset Soos.

The police officers came back outside and mentioned something about a dog in the house. They told him to move his car.

Then the officers used their patrol cars to block the car.

A neighbor came by to talk with Rothrock. "They only do that when the coroner's coming," the neighbor said.

Then he said, "I saw a cop going in the house. He put rubber gloves on his hands."

Right then, he knew. He just didn't know how many people were dead.

Eventually, a detective found Rothrock and explained the situation to him. He found out that luckily, Rizzo's son had been at school at the time of the shooting.

Neighbors described hearing gunshots at about 1:45 p.m.

Rothrock believes that Soos had been holding Rizzo at gunpoint all morning and into the afternoon.

"I think he was holding her so he could shoot me and have her see it," he said.

Rothrock was upset about not being told right away that his girlfriend was dead.

"It was insensitive," he said.

Police confirmed that they had been called to the residence several times prior to Wednesday's tragedy.

They also said their hands were tied in notifying Rothrock because he was not next of kin.

"It's a tragic situation," Richards said. "There's no perfect setting to let a loved one know such tragic circumstances."

Rothrock remained in Western New York with a relative Thursday.

"She's so caring, the most caring person I've ever known," he said. "She was outgoing. A very outgoing person. That's one of the best things about her. She would say what she felt. If it was good or bad, she'd say it. I loved that."
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise