March 7, 1951 – August 6, 1978
“Me myself would like to live in a wonderful world. I want love, security, a family and a home. I want no hatred, no prejudice, no violence, no crime. This is how I want to live.”
Christine Madeline Thompson was the second daughter (of 5 children) born to Ivan and Edwina Thompson. I unfortunately did not have the opportunity to know her well, as she passed away when I was only three years old. From the stories I have heard about my aunt – she was a force to be reckoned with. She was both outgoing and shy, a trait that has been passed onto me. She was both loved and misunderstood. She was a woman with conviction. Those who knew her will never forget her. For me, I wish I had gotten the chance. This year, 2013 should have marked her 62nd birthday but instead marks the 35th year of her passing. Never forgotten, she will live forever in both our memories and our hearts.
-Chris’ niece, Qaya
Letter from her sister Iris:
Here is my dilemma. In my family there were four girls, sisters, friends. We grew up, became young women and went our separate ways. New Haven, New York, Muncie and Philadelphia. Christine went to Muncie and I to Philadelphia. We never lived in the same city or state again. And then she died. We never had the opportunity to be sisters or friends as adults.
My dilemma. How does one pay homage to a sister you never got to know as an adult. Christine was smart and sophisticated. One of the most loyal and honest people I ever knew. Fiercely independent. Beautiful. She had the Native American features that weave through our family.
After struggling to write this I realize Christine has always been the same person. All her beauty and defining traits were apparent as a baby, a child and as a teenager. They were there as an adult, but she was in New Haven and Muncie and Ecuador and I was in Philadelphia.
I did know her, I always knew her and I always will know her. She is my girl, my sister, my friend.
Letter from her sister Cleo:
Reflections on Chris
When I think about Chris, I try to focus on the glass being half full. She did accomplish so much and was on her way to fulfilling her dreams of being needed and useful. She wanted to make a mark in the world, she wanted to make a difference and felt that joining the Peace Corps would allow her to do that.
When I think about Chris, I try not to focus on the glass being half empty because she missed out on so much and never got the chance to fulfill her dreams. As I get older, I remember my sister who didn’t even make 30. Every time it snows I recall the blizzard of 1978 that prevented me from seeing her before she left the country.
In the end, I suppose it doesn’t really matter. She had a beautiful spirit that was just about to take flight. She had finally found the means to bring about her dreams. She wasn’t going to live in the shadows anymore, but soar in the sun. She had that certainty which is more than many people have. She knew where she was and where she was going which was a blessing. I’m grateful for that.
I remember the day I learned of my sister’s passing over. It was on corner of Goffe and Sherman by Hillhouse. A cousin happened by and told me. My sister was a good person.
Hello Mr. Wars. I am Chris’s niece and would love to speak with you and get to know.more about my aunt. If you are amenable to this, please respond. Thank you.
Sorry, Mr. Ward for spelling your name wrong, I was wearing the wrong glasses! I would really like to connect.