Candlelight and Prayers For Four Sisters in SE

Vigil Seeks to Keep Tragedy in Forefront

They shared a common wall, and their children were about the same age. But Terry Louden never really knew her neighbor, Banita Jacks, who is accused of killing her four daughters. As the days passed, they traded niceties, never getting close.

Usually, whenever Louden saw Jacks, the girls were close behind her. When Louden realized in the spring that she had stopped seeing them, Jacks told her the girls were in South Carolina. Louden didn't press for more of an answer.

"We never visited each other's houses," Louden said. "We were just neighbors. We never got in each other's business."

Last night, under a constant rain, Louden made it her business to see that the rest of Washington doesn't forget Jacks or her daughters anytime soon. She pulled together a candlelight vigil outside Jacks's home that attracted Mayor Adrian M. Fenty (D), D.C. Council member Marion Barry (D), Del. Eleanor Holmes Norton (D-D.C.) and about 70 other people, old and young, shivering in the cold.

The bodies of Brittany Jacks, 16, and her three younger sisters had been found in the two-story rowhouse in the 4200 block of Sixth Street SE exactly one week earlier, Jan. 10. Jacks, 33, is being held without bond on murder charges. Authorities have said the girls might have been dead as long ago as May.

Fenty, speaking to the crowd, called the deaths of the four girls a "national tragedy" that has shaken people from coast to coast. "This is the first of many opportunities to express our sorrow and say that we love these young girls," he said.

Behind him, teddy bears, homemade signs and toys -- including a plastic hairdryer set -- had been placed in front of the modest home and attached to the chain-link fence surrounding it. People have been coming to the home and pausing, often just staring in silence as if imagining what happened inside.

Several of those at the vigil expressed a measure of sympathy and compassion for Banita Jacks, who neighbors said had been living like a hermit for months.

"We're praying for her right now because we love her, too," said the Rev. Carlton Pressley of Temple of Praise church. "We all need help."

Louden said she last saw Jacks in November, when she bought Jacks a bottle of juice at the corner store. Louden realized that Jacks had had her electricity and water turned off, so she started giving Jacks whatever food, water and cigarettes she could.

"She said her food stamps had been cut off," Louden said. "I told her to reapply, and she said, 'I just don't want to go back to the shelter.' I told her I was in a shelter when I stopped using drugs. I didn't know what to do or who to call."

The case has roiled the city. Fenty fired six child welfare workers for failing to respond to concerns about the children dating from April 2006. The D.C. Council held a hearing to look into the case. The chief judge of the D.C. Superior Court, which was notified of the case, said that its staff also failed to respond adequately.

None of that, however, was a topic of discussion last night. Robin Riddick, who has three daughters, said she didn't know the family but felt compelled to attend the vigil nevertheless.

"I had to pay my last respects," she said. When speakers pledged to return to the neighborhood on Martin Luther King Jr. Day to pray that the city provide additional services for residents, Riddick shouted, "We need it!"

As the rain poured, dashing some of the flames, those at the vigil held candles high and sang, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." Several people planted their still-burning candles in the white snow, and the shadows flickered off teddy bears and signs.