Last Thursday morning when I sat down to my computer, multiple e-mails with the subject header, “Have you seen Melanie Gould?” filled my inbox.
The news was disturbing. Melanie Gould, a fellow Iditarod musher, was missing from her home in Talkeetna, Alaska, and had been since May 31st.
Very little information was provided in the articles, but one specific detail made my heart sink - Melanie’s 12 dogs were found at home alone. Like her friends who set up a Facebook page to coordinate information between the public and search teams, I couldn’t imagine Melanie leaving her dogs without making any provisions for their care - this was a very bad sign.
I felt helpless reading about Melanie’s disappearance from thousands of miles away at my parents’ home in Indianapolis. For two days, I checked the public Facebook page often, hoping for some positive news.
At the same time, Indianapolis news stations were on location in Bloomington, IN, covering the case of another missing woman, Lauren Spierer, a 20-year old Indiana University sophomore who disappeared on June 3rd.
Finally I decided that even though I was far from the wilderness of Alaska, I needed to do something. But what could I do to help Melanie?
Computers open up whole new worlds for their users, and they spread valuable information about missing persons far and wide. But they also lull us into complacency; so much news and information is coming at us from around the globe that we often ignore the neighbors right in front of us whom we can help face-to-face.
I don’t think there could be anything more painful than someone you love - human or animal - going missing.
When I was a child, my mom taught me to always let others know where I am going. You never want people you love to worry, she would say. To this day, I always leave a note on the kitchen table, even when I’m just running out to the grocery.
People disappear. Many of them don’t have the option of leaving a note.
Just as I was thinking about driving to Bloomington to help the massive search efforts for Spierer, a quick blurb appeared on the local news about another person who recently went missing. Morgan Johnson of Plainfield, IN disappeared on May 20, 2011.
A friend of Johnson’s appeared on the news, asking for volunteers around the Indianapolis area. Unlike the loved ones of both Gould and Spierer, Johnson’s friends and family have had a difficult time recruiting the media attention they need to get the word out. Because of Spierer’s high profile case, they finally got a few moments on air.
Saturday I spent the afternoon hanging fliers around Indy.
The information on the notice reads: “Morgan Johnson, 27, is missing. A very responsible young man, his family and friends are very worried as this is not in his character. Morgan takes seizure medications and does not have them with him. Morgan is a black male, 5’8” and 155 lb. He drives a 1995 white Pontiac Grand Am.”
As I walked the streets of just one neighborhood posting signs on light poles, trash bins, and store windows, I began to realize how lonely and massive the world must feel to a person whose loved one has vanished. The scale of a search is daunting.
I ended the day annoyed with my lack of progress - I had a lot more ground to cover.
That same evening, I checked the Facebook page for Melanie one last time.
After 11 days, she was found.
Very few details have been released about Melanie’s time in the wilderness. I don’t know what happened, and I’m not about to waste time speculating.
It’s a huge relief to know she is alive, safe, and in relatively good physical condition.
I pray that the loved ones of both Spierer and Johnson will soon receive wonderful news as well.
( 2 Votes )
