Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Where the Sweetgrass Grows





 I started another novel in December.  I don't like to be on a time table when I write.  Each book is different, depending on the subject matter.  The two books that dealt with the War Between the States took less time than the last one, which dealt with a different setting, genre, and period of history.  I'm finding myself in a similar position with this novel, Where The Sweet Grass Grows.  
There are countless hours of research that goes into a book, if done well.  I'm in the writing/research phase. Today, I find myself in the middle of a standstill, until I can get to the library to research.

So, I'll put my writing aside to share some thoughts on the topic of Missing Children.  Not a very uplifting blog topic, but I am writing a novel that involves cold cases/missing children. 
I can't imagine a more terrifying and completely helpless experience than that of a parent of a missing child. I wondered when the first case of child abduction might have happened here in United States.  It didn't take long to figure out the obvious, for the history geek. 

 The first child to 'go missing' had to be Virginia Dare, right?  Of course, she took a whole colony with her.  The Lost Colony of Roanoke, in 1588, is the first case that made the news. I imagine John White, her grandfather, had a feeling of utter despair when he saw the deserted beach off the coast of the Outer Banks.  How terrified he must have been when he realized he had no idea what had become of his daughter and granddaughter. , who was born after arriving in Virginia.  He went to his grave never knowing the whereabouts of the loves of his life.
The next missing child in history (and there were countless, I'm confident) that I studied as a child was young Frances Slocum.
Frances, shown above, had a happier ending.  At age 5, Frances was abducted by the Miami Indians in 1778.  Taken from her Quaker family farm in Pennsylvania, she survived the harrowing experience.  For sixty years, she lived and married among the Indians.  Her mother had begged the Indians to leave her son, whom they originally found hiding under the stairs with Frances, because of a disfigured leg.  Not wanting to deal with his handicap, they ripped Frances from her mother's arms.
It wasn't until her brothers search led them to Peru, Indiana.  It was there that they were led to a woman near death in her late sixties.  Having found their lost sister, they wanted to bring her back to live among her relation.  She declined, being more Indian now than white. Frances had nearly forgotten all of her memory of the English language, but she didn't have some memory of the day she was abducted.

Most abducted children are not returned unharmed.  Sadly, most are killed within the first few hours after being taken.

The most publicized case of child abduction in the United States happened in 1932.  Charles Lindbergh III, son of famous aviator Charles Lindbergh, was abducted from his crib in 1932. 

 A ransom note was left for the parents, and like any parent, they responded.  At that time, forensics and modern tools of criminal investigations were lacking or non-existent.  Sadly, the child's remains were found, not far from the family residence.  There was a trial, and the accused was put to death.  Some feel the wrong person was arrested and charged, but that is a topic for another day, another blog.  This case prompted many a parent to have iron bars installed on all windows of the home, to protect the sleeping children within.

In the years to follow, thousands of children across the country went missing.  Our attention was drawn to the case of Etan Patz, which puzzled police and his parents for decades.  This month, a jury will be chosen to hear the case of his alleged killer, even though a body was never found.

The most recognized face of the horrors of having a child taken right in broad daylight came with the story of Adam Walsh.
In 1981, this bright, happy, only child of John and Reve Walsh, was taken from a Sears department store in Florida.  I remember the news broadcasts about this beautiful child.  Sadly, his story ended in tragedy.  His severed head was found in a canal, putting an end to the search and dashing his parents' hope of finding him alive.  His body was never found, and the animal who killed him made a deathbed confession to the murder.

If you grew up during the seventies, you undoubtedly were drawn to the faces of missing children each time you bought milk at the grocery store.  A national campaign to bring awareness of children who had been abducted by stranger or family were placed on the back of milk cartons.
Some of the missing were brought home, thanks to the efforts of the National Missing and Exploited Children agency.  Sadly, there were more that were not given a happy ending.  The milk carton campaign led to flies in sale ads and Amber Alerts,

We are drawn to the Lacey Peterson and Caylee Anthony trials.  It is just heartbreaking.  
It is a sad fact of our society.  There are ways to protect the innocents from stranger danger.  Have your children fingerprinted, at the very least.  Parents are having their young children carry cell phones with panic buttons for protection.  It is our worst nightmare, but as parents and grandparents, the safety of our most precious ones is worth whatever must be done.

While writing this book, I am gaining a greater appreciation for the police who investigate and work the cases, the organizations that are in place to aid parents in finding their missing children, and the media outlets who get the word out there.  THANK YOU!


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