Alyssa Hill was 14 years old when she lost her mom. It happened suddenly due to complications from a car crash during an icy mid-winter commute.
When she became a mom at 19, Hill poured all of her love into her daughter and the same into her son born a few years later. She emulated the care and support of her own mother that was ripped away at a vulnerable age.
Hill never wanted her two young kids to know what it’s like to grow up without a mom.
Her worst fears were realized on June 2 in what authorities have described as one man’s public and brutal act of violence. Prosecutors say 27-year-old Hill was killed in a midday attack carried out by an ex-boyfriend at the Skyline Chili in Norwood, where she worked as a server.
Two of Hill’s closest friends told The Enquirer that they don’t want the violent manner of her death to become her legacy.
“The fact that the media now knows her name because of how she was taken is the ultimate disservice to the embodiment of who she was as a person,” said Tessa Lowery, Hill’s childhood best friend.
She should be remembered for the immense love and dedication she gave to her children; her inspiring resilience in the face of adversity; her generosity to anyone who came into her orbit.
Friends say Hill was accepting, always there
It’s been so long that the exact details of Lowery’s first interaction with Hill are a little foggy. She does remember a fifth-grade trip to Camp Kern and sitting next to each other at a table, swapping items back and forth.
The details of that first meeting don’t matter as much as the bond they formed as young girls impervious to time, distance and the occasional spat.
“What drew me to Ally was just how accepting she was of literally everybody,” Lowery said.
When Hill’s mom died, Lowery cried with her. She moved away as the years passed and they grew up. The separation didn’t matter. Hill was the maid of honor at her wedding and Lowery did the same for Hill.
It never mattered how long it had been, Hill was always there when someone needed her.
As teenagers, the pair got matching tattoos: a sea turtle accompanied by the phrase, “We shall never drift apart.”
“I never knew how much of an impact that quote would have the way that it does today,” Lowery said. “The hole in my person that I feel with her loss is so big because that connection was so big.”
Hill was one of the first friends Tori Casey made at Turpin High School when she moved to Anderson Township from Northeast Ohio the summer before her freshman year.
She was instantly accepting of Casey, who was living in a new place, attending an unfamiliar school and knowing no one outside of her family.
“Ally was definitely one of the first people to make me feel like, ‘you know, maybe this is going to be OK,’” Casey said.
Hill’s warm, lighthearted energy stood out to Casey in the early days of their friendship. She was always laughing and making others laugh. What Casey didn’t know at the time is that once someone entered Hill’s atmosphere, it was likely to be a lifelong connection.
“The thing about when you have so much love to give in your life is that sometimes people can disappoint you with it, or you feel like you’ve let people down,” Casey said. “It was rare for her to be the one to shut somebody out, and it’s like her door was literally always open.”
Hill remained a constant in Casey’s life since high school. She was someone Casey could talk to about anything. As they grew older with children of their own, they bonded over shared hardships.
“This is somebody who I knew I could go to with things that I didn’t really feel comfortable going to other people with,” Casey said. “I could have never imagined that that would be taken so soon.”
Children lose their champion, father loses a daughter and caretaker
Hill often worked seven days a week to provide for her 8-year-old daughter and 5-year-old son. She was also the primary caretaker for her father, who is unable to drive because of medical issues.
The family already endured a crushing loss. That’s all been compounded by Hill’s death. Her children lost their greatest champion. Her father lost a daughter after losing his wife 13 years ago.
“She wanted her own mother’s memory to live on through her children and do things that were similar in ways that they could experience the same things that she did,” Lowery said, “but do 10 times more to give them an even better life beyond the things that she knew were good.”
While the money the community has raised to support Hill’s family will cover their daily needs and beyond, nothing can make up for Hill being taken from them. They’re also left with uncertainty about what the future holds.
“Grief is hard in that it’s not pretty, it’s not organized, there is no playbook for it and it sneaks up on you throughout the day,” Lowery added. “But it also shows itself in big ways, like, ‘Oh my God, what do we do next?’ And I think that’s the impact that it has on the family.”
Hill’s legacy is one of ‘love and perseverance’
Lowery and Casey are only now beginning to feel the full weight of Hill’s loss. They went into survival mode immediately after she died, organizing a GoFundMe, fielding questions from reporters and anything else to lessen the burden on the woman’s family.
Now that she’s been laid to rest, things are finally starting to slow down.
They both see Hill as an inspiration and know that her memory is something they’ll carry with them for the rest of their lives.
“Her legacy is one of love and perseverance and dedication to her kids and the people in her life,” Casey said.
Hill had begun a return to religion in recent years. Her favorite Bible verse comes from Corinthians: “Let all that you do be done in love.”
That’s how she lived. That’s how they want her to be remembered.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer: Ally Hill, slain Skyline employee, gave kids the love she was robbed of
Reporting by Quinlan Bentley, Cincinnati Enquirer / Cincinnati Enquirer
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
By Quinlan Bentley, Cincinnati Enquirer | USA TODAY Network
