THE WAY BACK
As the cameras clicked and the videotapes rolled, I stepped up to a battalion of microphones stationed in front of the West-chester County Federal Courthouse in White Plains, New York. It was Friday, October 5, 2007, an unseasonably warm day. The treetops swayed with occasional gusts of wind. There was a long ribbon of people across the street, shouting “We love you, Marion.” I didn’t know any of them, but they were like angels sent from God to wrap their wings around me on one of the lowest days of my life.
My mother, other relatives, and close supporters stood behind me and around...
A LIFE OF TRIUMPH AND TRAGEDY
For those of you who know me, I suppose you can fast-forward through the next few paragraphs, but for those who don’t, I am Marion Jones, and I have lived a life of triumph and tragedy.
I was born in 1975 in Los Angeles, the daughter of George Jones—who was a businessman—and Marion, a hardworking legal secretary who had moved to the United States from Belize in 1968 at age twenty-two. I have one brother, Albert Kelly. Albert is five years older than me. I look up to him. He is my great and lasting hero, and we have always been close. Albert has always believed in...