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Posted on 06/24/2005 9:11:00 PM PDT by TheWriterTX
My children and a neighbor's son were energetically playing on my front lawn. With the garage door raised, I sat, phone, cigarettes, and drinks nearby, watching them tromp on my grass and race up and down the sidewalk. The weather was customarily warm, the air sanguine, the quiet of the street punctured by occasional loud barks of laughter from my son, daughter, and their friend.
The little ones asked if they could call on my next door neighbor's children. With a nod and a wave, I watched them go to the door. It had been quiet at Bonnie's house all day, so I was not surprised when my neighbor's son announced that no one was home. My daughter, ever delighted by the beautiful perennials in Bonnie's garden and potted plants on her porch, plopped down to admire the flowers. My son and his friend dashed back to their bikes and started "racing" again.
My neighbor, Terry, drove by, and I gave him a leisurely wave. Anthony fell off his bike, so I hurried over to check on him. With the resiliency of youth, his pained yelp was almost immediately replaced by a desire to "go faster," and we righted his bike so he could continue his adventures.
I returned to the garage and grabbed a quick slip of soda. I took a moment to light my cigarette and put the lighter back in a safe place. I stepped from the garage because my "radar" had gone off. It was nearing a minute since I had actually held my daughter in my sight, and a part of me was instinctively anxious. I looked towards Bonnie's front porch, no more than five long paces from the corner of my garage….
And she was gone.
My strong voice bellowed her name down the gentle tranquility of the street. I firmly expected her to appear from behind a potted plant or perhaps the corner of the house. I expected to hear her pretty little voice call "Mommy" in reply.
It didn't happen.
Now I was shouting her name at full volume, my tone insistent. Tossing the cigarette down, I rushed across the lawn to Bonnie's house, then to the side of house, then past the next house.
She didn't answer. She wasn't there.
I asked my son and his friend if they had seen her, had she gone into the house while I had my back turned. Blankie? I reasoned. A toy, perhaps? Demanding that the boys follow me, we searched the house, calling to her. I opened doors, closets, checked under beds, seemingly silly places.
No baby girl.
Back outside, for another mad dash up the street, this time passed several houses in both directions as an unfamiliar ache crept up my guts, clogged my lungs, and filled my throat. I called on God, I uttered profanities, I repeatedly screamed her name with a desperation that resonated in my ears. Had a car gone by? I thought crazily. How could someone have stopped and grabbed her from the front porch without my noticing? It couldn't be, I reasoned. She had to be here…somewhere!
But she wasn't.
This is not possible, my mind raged. This cannot be possible. This is not happening….
But it was.
I charged for the phone and called the police. Perhaps five minutes had elapsed since I first realized she was missing, but every minute was another minute something terrible could be happening to her. I devolved into a creature that embodied everything I despised: horrified and helpless, I begged the police to come and continued screaming her name on the sidewalk, as if by some miracle my voice alone would compel her to magically appear before me.
I fluctuated from despondent and hysterical, pacing like a wounded lioness, to methodical and composed as I answered the rapid fire and determined questions of the dispatcher.
The boys ran around and shouted to her, looked through the house again while I stayed on the sidewalk. As the seconds ticked by, my need to be with her grew immeasurably, my guilt incalculably, and my heartache exponentially. Another neighbor, Kathy, came home, glanced over, and went inside. Little did I know Kathy also ran for her phone and began calling neighbors, sending up the alarm that my daughter was missing.
No more than a minute later, the police arrived. An officer and a separate car with a tracking dog screeched to a halt in front of me. Into the house we went, checking every toy cluttered room, past undone laundry and lunch dishes, vainly looking for her. I fumbled through the photo album to find a recent picture, my throat now harsh from crying. The police were preparing my daughter's information for an "Amber Alert."
My neighbor, Terry, who I had waved to earlier, received Kathy's call. He dropped everything and ran out of his house. Meanwhile, next door, my neighbor Bonnie, her children, and my daughter came from the back of their house to the kitchen for some juice. Bonnie's son noticed the police car lights flashing and they all made haste to the door.
Terry sighted my daughter, scooped her up, and brought her into my kitchen and arms. I dissolved into waves of sobs, clinging to her as if to make us one. She seemed to sense my need, because she curled into me and hugged me back, letting me kiss her and rock her to ease my own hurt, not hers.
In my mind, I had discounted the possibility of her going into Bonnie's house because I presumed Bonnie wasn't home. But that was exactly how it happened. They heard the doorbell ring, came from the back of the house, and when they opened it, my baby girl was sitting on the front porch. Being accustomed to playing at Bonnie's house, she breezed right in. All the time I was tearing myself apart in anguish, she was watching a movie in the back of the house and happily playing with Bonnie's children.
I now have a shock of gray hair to show for this experience. But if this is the only price I had to pay for it, I consider myself extremely grateful and wholly blessed. And my "radar," I discovered, now goes off almost instantly. ***
© 2003 Linda Prussen-Razzano
COPYRIGHT © 2003 BY THE AMERICAN PARTISAN.
I know this type of nightmare! My kids disappeared while I was at school/work one day. Their dad packed them up and ran off. No note, no calls, nothing to let me know they were ok.
Took me 3 weeks to find them. The most horrifying 3 weeks of my life!
Did you miss the part where she said she thought the neighbors weren't home.
When a small child is missing time is of the essence, especially in todays world. If the child is found safe next door, it sure isn't going to upset the police that they were called. Better than the case in New Jersey where it took four hours to notify the police that those three boys were missing.
Well, I think she already confessed she was a helpless mess of goo, or something along those lines. I usually have to be the voice of reason with my wife in these circumstances, but I'm freaking on the inside too.
It is funny now but 30 years ago we were at Myrtle Beach. There were thousands of people and my nephew went missing. I still remember my poor SIL running in frantic circles, wanting to run find him, afraid to leave. The lifeguards assured us that they would have seen him if he was drowning. As is my usual MO, my answer was to escape, I couldn't stand the fear and the tension. I just grabbed my son and took off because I was so upset and started looking and ended up walking 1/2 a mile asking everyone on the beach if they had seen him when I looked up and saw him on a fountain. An older couple had found him and taken him to a central place and put him up there so he could be seen. I gave the couple profuse thanks but I wish I had been able to talk to them after things had settled down and let them know how thankful we were. I made the boys run all the way back to where the rest of the family was and I'll never forget my SIL falling to the ground and giving way to the tears she had been holding back.
When a small child is missing time is of the essence, especially in todays world.
I'd at least check every house in the street before I called in the cops.
This response was hysterical.
Oh please.
Your children have NEVER been out of your sight for five minutes?
BTW...most child abuse goes on within families. So unless you can trust your wife 100%, your child minder 100%, and your family 100%, you'd probably better stay awake 24/7 for the next 18 years.
I'm a helpless mess of goo when my car doesn't start and I'm late for an appointment. I don't call the fire brigade for a jump-start.
You do it your way, I'll do it mine! I called the police about 20 minutes after I found my kids missing. Of course it took me that long to figure out that my daughters new school clothes were gone!
There are 7 registered sex offenders within walking distance of my house. If I had known that when my kids disappeared...I would have called within seconds of finding them gone!
Are you two playing tag team tonight or something? Why don't you just run along to a thread where you have some real intellectual input. Just because you can't relate to the article, and missed the point, that doesn't give you the right to beat up on other FReepers.
She's almost four now and teaching her little sister the ropes.
Sorry? Tag team? I really don't know what you mean?
Are you mixing me up with someone else?
Do you always call the moderator when you disagree with somebody?
The Rescue and Police teams have NO EXCUSE for failing to search that vehicle. That father should have never been put in that position.
End of story.
Finally you get it. In five minutes someone may spot a stranger carrying the child. In four hours, someone may find the child dead in a ditch. BIG difference.
BTW..this article is TWO years old.
And, secondly I think that calling the police to a matter (after five minutes) is a waste of their already limited resources.
Kids with devilish personality at a young age, turn into winsome charmers. I suggest you may need to cops on standby when she turns 18...for your own sanity! :-) (I say that with the best wishes and will in the world, but I'm sure you know that *S*)
I would rather waste the officers time and resources, than find my child dead because I hesitated when it was a matter of life and death.
I would rather, then, that Momma didn't think that finding her cigarettes was more important than keeping a watchful eye on her child.
But this isn't a perfect world.
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