Until this Mother's Day that is. I had to call 911 and it was the WORST, most awful thing I have ever had to do. I HAVE called the police before, I have called them when the meth user next door in college was breaking in the door yelling that he was going to kill his girlfriend. I called the police not too long ago about two boys on a Tuesday morning at the gas station trying to hitch rides over to Arizona. But I was never prepared for the call that said: "I have three children missing in the woods for over two hours. We have looked and searched for them this whole time, but there has been no sign of them."
I couldn't say it without crying. I couldn't look over at my sister-in-law, whose 8 year old daughter was part of the three missing. I couldn't envision my children and why they might not be responding without a lump in my throat bigger than those horse pills I sometimes try to swallow without water.
I refused to describe their clothes and refused to talk anymore, I wasn't able to. I just cried for them to get here, get here quickly before dark set in.
It was Mother's Day. The only hitch in the day was that Judd was working, but the kids had a PLAN and I liked it. They wanted to have a picnic outside. It was hot though, so I suggested Mt Charleston, where the high was only supposed to be in the 70s, as opposed to the 100 down here in the valley. The cousins wanted to come along and it was a date.
It was busy up there, so we decided to pull over at some random spot and eat. The kids ventured up the mountain a bit and suggested we eat a few feet up, on a nice even landing. And we did. The kids explored a little and said the top of the hill was soon to be reached and someone had made a type of a hut up there, camp fire and all. It was comfortable. It was warm, I was laying on a blanket, eating every large strawberry out of the fruit bowl. Jena was sitting, amicably chatting about work. The kids were buzzing around us.
Then Gigi said she had not made it to see the camp and she and Ellie wanted to go up. I asked Sebastian, who had not been up yet to go with them and away they strolled, a short little walk ahead.
We continued chatting, Julian eating another sandwich, the others playing around underneath us.
My brother went off with two of them and we laid out in the sun. He came back about 30 minutes later and asked if the other three had returned. They had not seen them on the top. We said no and I slowly sat up, looking at my watch. They had left an hour ago.
Ralph: "It's dense up there, I called for them a few times, but my voice did not echo at all."
I got up. "Seb is good with nature stuff, he'll bring them back."
Ralph: "He would have brought them back already."
We decided to break into three groups and look for them. Ralph and my youngest boy went straight up, my oldest nephew and Thor went to the right, Jena and her younger son went to the left of the cars. I was to stay at the picnic area in case they came back. I stayed 3 minutes. Then I grabbed a bag of Cheetos and went up the mountain, carefully dropping a chip every few feet to mark my way, Gretel-style. Within minutes I was inside dense brush, having a hard time finding my bearings. I kept looking at the Cheetos. I ran into my brother at some point who asked if I was worried. I told him I was getting there. I told him Seb wouldn't lead them astray and he said:"THAT'S why I am worried."
We yelled. We timed our yells at 2 mins each. We had instructed the kids earlier to yell BALMER if they were in distress so we listened for that. Not a peep. Sometimes, when I would get close to one of our other groups I would hear "SEB", the agreed upon call to find them. I ached to hear a yodel, which was supposed to be the signal that we had found them. NOTHING.
We were soon dehydrated and painfully aware that they had run up the mountain without any drinks or any supplies. Seb HAD taken his phone, I texted him. I knew there was no signal, but I hoped a text would go through. It was returned as undeliverable. The reality that they were lost and there was no way to get ahold of them set in.
I saw my brother and he said it was time to call the police or rangers or both. I walked to the closest street sign so I would know what to say as to where we were. We called 911. THE CALL DID NOT GO THROUGH. I could not believe this. I thought emergency calls would go through anywhere. My boys started digging around the car for their phones and started attempting to make phone calls. I walked, I walked around the whole area, anywhere I could looking for people. I described our kids and asked if they would try their phones. I pleaded to every stranger I saw that afternoon for helping me with my kids. We looked and looked for Rangers trucks to come by. I did not want to leave the spot we were at. It had gotten darker and cloudy and cold and all I could do was imagine.
My brother drove around the canyon in case they got out somewhere else. Jena and I were grim. She was wearing sunglasses and it was not sunny. I stayed away from the other kids because I knew I could not talk. The remaining boys kept yelling "SEB" and I cringed every single time. I contemplated how to get ahold of Judd and get him up here. I worried about the night. Jena worried about kidnappings. I worried about injuries. I worried about Seb being hurt and the girls having left to find us only to get lost more. I worried about the little girls and them being scared.
I thought how it was Mothers Day and at Church we had taken a moment to think about the moms we have lost and moms who have lost. My brother looked at me and told me that to panic would do no one good.
We were scratched up. We were bleeding all over. My feet were a bloody mess, since I was only wearing flip flops. Our voices were hoarse and our hope was vanishing.
And then 2 things happened. A car pulled over, the driver walked up to us and just looked at us. I asked him if he had a working phone and he handed me one, wordlessly. I started the 911 call, then handed the phone to my brother.
My son was wearing a sky blue T-shirt with the word Wyoming written on it. He was wearing grey shorts, black sneakers and white socks. He is blond, his hair recently cut super short. He is slight and gentle. And he cares, he cares so much. He would be back if he was able to I said, then my voice cracked. My daughter has long brown hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a Jackson Hole pink shirt and checkered pink shorts. Purple sneakers. She smiles a lot, but she probably wouldn't be smiling now. She would be scared and would need a gentle voice. She is scared of lizards.
My niece Ellie was wearing a purple shirt and black shorts. She is vivacious and could probably be heard. She is stubborn, too and might have wandered off. She is little. She is 8. Gigi is little, she is 7.
And they really really needed their moms. We really needed them back. Gigi is deathly afraid of wolves. Seb pretends he's not scared, but he is. He knows he is responsible for them.
Police was on their way. The car that had pulled over said they would drive to the nearest ranger station and bring them back.
We waited around a little. Then my brother packed bottles of water in a bag, slung it over his shoulder and said he wouldn't be back unless it was with the kids and left with his oldest. We begged him to stay but he left.
I sat by the road, wearily waiting for a car to drive by. Maybe someone had them and was bringing them back. The younger boys were at the bottom left creek yelling. Thorsten's voice extremely loud. He screamed Seb's name incessantly, while Julian was fiddling with his phone. Later I saw that he called 911 and Seb 87 times.
Then a car came driving up the road, drove past us, flipped a U-e, came to our parking lot and stopped. Out came a Hispanic man. He looked at me. I hesitated. I had told everyone I saw about the kids but he just looked at me, then climbed over the shrubs and bushes and disappeared to the right, where there were no trails and disappeared. I wondered about him.
Then 5 minutes later Jena looked in that direction and said: "IS THAT THEM?" And out of the brush emerged first Gigi, then Ellie, trailed by Seb. Gigi started running, Ellie started bawling and Sebastian just stopped.
Are you a Mom? Do you remember that feeling when you first held your new baby in your arm, in awe at the deep love, the unconditional devotion you felt for your child from that first moment? I experienced that feeling again on Mother's Day, holding my sobbing children, nursing their many bloody scratches and wiping their tears.
Apparently Seb had been hit in the head by a large branch and had passed out for what the girls described as about 20 minutes. Once he was able to see clear, they had gotten more and more entwined in the dense brush. Until a Hispanic man suddenly stood in front of them, pointed to the shrubs and said: "Two women, behind those trees." Then walked off. Never to be seen by us again. Seb later said that they were about to turn around since it was just dense brush ahead and no path. They were about to walk into the opposite direction.
And as we held them and nursed them and laughed with them, police cars and rangers descended upon us. And the car with the cell phone guy returned to check on us. And our kids could tell them: "We are safe". And I could thank God and the Angel, who didn't look at all like I would have envisioned.
