The Lives We Loved: BA Students Remember Those They’ve Lost


Photo: The author’s mother on her wedding day.

I Lost My Parents When I was 10, And I Remember Them Every Day

By Zechariah Hargrett 

My mother, Armetia Dowling Hargrett was a loving and caring parent of five kids. She took the five of us to parks, parties, and other fun places that we’d enjoy. She was a strong parent who defended her kids from getting hurt and also she took us traveling to different states.  I remember her as my smart and intelligent mom.   She worked different jobs in her life in places like Walmart and cleaning houses. She loved dogs, cats, and other pets, but mostly dogs and cats. She was also a tutor to the five of us – my siblings and me. I also remember her as a church person who loved going to church all the time. She’d take us kids to restaurants almost every week, so that if anything happened, then this would be a memory of good times.

My mom was born on Nov. 8, 1974  in Georgia. When she felt suddenly sick one day and had to go to Broward General, she was still a young woman with her life ahead of her.  But after a couple of months in the hospital, at age 37, she died of cancer. It was a tragic morning for us – that morning of June 26, 2012.

My dad, Isaiah Emmanuel Hargrett Sr. was raised in Tallahassee, Florida. He was born on September 26,1965. He owned a car detailer and washed people’s cars to earn money. He also had his own transportation business. He always said his most memorable moments were the birth of all his children, and when he was called as a pastor in 2009. I remember my dad for his honesty, love for people, and making sure that his family was taken care of.  My dad also graduated from Coral Springs High School and played football for his school. He once told me about how he’d won a running award the in middle school,  before going on to attend vocational school and working in agriculture, and eventually car detailing. A few months after my mom passed, he came down with pneumonia and died in Plantation General Hospital, August 8, 2012. He was 47.

I shared a lot of laughs with my parents. It was so hard to see them go. But they are forever in my memories.


Photo: The author’s father (Dominique Darrell Daniels)

The Man With A Plan

by Kayla Daniels

My father – Domique Darrell Daniels, 34 – was shot and killed on January 27, 2018, in Deerfield Beach. He was the glue of our family and a great person. He’d give you the shirt off his back. He loved his family and he loved music. Raised in Pompano Beach, he attended Blanche Ely High School and was a big fan of the Dallas Cowboys. Throughout his high school years, he participated in football.

My dad was the son of Debra Fields. He has two siblings, Princess and James. He left behind his only child – myself, Kayla – and many more loved ones in our family. When he died, he’d been working on changing his life around for the better. He worked for a warehouse company and also had experience with construction work. He loved to eat soul food and be around his family. Family was everything to him. He may be gone, but he is never forgotten.


The Real Maliq S

by Cristian Williams

Maliq Singletary was my god-brother, although blood was no roadblock to how close we were. Maliq was only 7 when he drowned in a pool while at a party. He was the most energetic young boy you could ever be around at any point in your life. Maliq enjoyed having fun and trying new things. He was so spontaneous and outgoing and grew knowledgeable with each new adventure.

At a young age, Maliq got pleasure from helping others in every which way possible. He loved making people laugh and smile. I remember a time when he imitated me, mocking the way I slept and walked. At that moment in time, I paused and realized how much he looked up to me. The amount of positive energy that surrounded him was astonishing and inspiring. He always enjoyed playing football and loved racing me and being put up against a challenge. We loved staying up all night playing video games until we fell asleep with the controllers in our hands.