A Woman Of Courage Rises Above The Pain

Three weeks later, police say, Hargrave -- who has a history of arrests and convictions for gun crimes and robbery -- entered the T-Mobile store in Clinton where Cade worked. Splashing his wife with gasoline, he chased her out of the store and struck a match, police say. A towel-wielding T-Mobile customer extinguished the flames. Two days later, Hargrave was arrested on charges of attempted murder and assault.

On Oct. 26, Palumbo -- mired in controversy over his handling of Cade's and other domestic violence cases as well as two questionable traffic incidents -- was temporarily removed from the bench.

To Jackson's way of thinking, Palumbo -- who, critics point out, dismissed a temporary restraining order against another Prince George's man who allegedly attacked his wife in May -- "needs to be off the bench, period." As for Hargrave, he should get "life without the possibility of parole," Jackson says. "Men like him who get a second opportunity injure or kill other women."

Once upon a time, Jackson liked the stylish man whom the fashion-conscious Cade met in 2000 and married a year later. Hargrave didn't seem threatening, she says. And besides, Cade -- a petite child who grew into a 4-foot-11, 100-pound woman -- learned early on "always to stand up for herself."

Like two years ago, when Cade filled a trash bag with empty liquor bottles to show Hargrave how much he was spending on alcohol. When Hargrave stopped drinking, Cade believed she had a shot at changing her husband's possessive desire "to be the center of her life," Jackson says.

This was a man who threw tantrums during family visits and discouraged telephone calls from relatives by "screaming, yelling and cursing . . . to get her off the phone." When Cade told her that Hargrave had hit her leg with a hammer and taunted her with a knife, Jackson advised her to leave him.

In mid-December last year, Cade finally did. Her family had gathered for a post-Christmas "it's finally over" celebration when Hargrave arrived uninvited, banging on the door, Jackson says.

Her secret fear: "That someone was going to end up dead." But when months passed with no major incidents, Jackson says, "my foolish mind got to thinking that was it."

In October, the whole world learned it wasn't. But in the hospital room that for now is Cade's home, Jackson sees her sister's spirit reemerging.

Cade studies dozens of magazine clippings of shoes, handbags and furniture that her mom and sister pinned to a curtain to distract her. She chats with her daughter about her new school. On Thanksgiving, she received family members in shifts and nibbled her mom's mac and cheese.

Through it all, Jackson has seen Cade cry only once -- in early November, when she wanted "to show me that she still could," Jackson says. "Normally, with gasoline burns, the chemicals and fire destroy the tear ducts," she explains. Although it's painful to cry, "Yvette said the doctor said it was good that she's still able to do that."

To demonstrate, Cade lay still. Moments later, one salty tear rolled down her charred cheek.

Jackson shakes her head at the memory.

"I'm sure she had plenty of things to choose from to cry about," she says.