The sadness of anniversary dates...

Josh with brothers Jacob & Isaac 1996 (photo by Pat Jarrell Shortt)

By the calendar, tomorrow, September 13th, marks two years since Steve and I were told that our son, Josh, was murdered. By the days of the week, I think of the second Friday of September and remember sitting in our family room after hearing on the news that Matt Johnson - one of the last known people to have seen Josh - had been kidnapped. There were anxious calls with sisters Sue and Marty, as well as friend Lynn, speculating if Josh had also been kidnapped as we searched for answers about his disappearance. I remember sitting here, working up the courage to call Tim Horne at the Orange County Sheriff's Department to see if there was any connection between Matt's kidnapping and Josh and then when I did make the call, was unable to reach him. All of us were on pins and needles trying to get to the bottom of a connection, feeling very emotional and maybe even on a psychic level, knew there had to be a connection but were getting no answers. It had been nearly two months since we last saw Josh. We were consumed with worry. By the time I actually did get Tim on the phone late in the day, he was upset with me for interrupting his interrogations and since he had never met or spoken to me, only to Steve, he insisted on speaking with Steve, which added insult to injury to me. He explained that he was not going to jeopardize an ongoing investigation by giving out unauthorized information to someone he didn't know and promised he would call if and when he had any information for us pertaining to Josh.  Later that evening he called back to apologize for his abruptness. He said he had been up for several days with little to no sleep trying to get a break in the case and he was very sorry for taking out his frustration on us and wanted to assure us he was intensely searching for Josh and felt he'd have some answers for us very soon.

The next morning, Steve and Isaac hit the road for Smith Mountain Lake to go work on the sailboat. I had plans to go to my friend Cely's house to work on making pottery along with a few members of my parent group from work, Georgia, Amy and Rob. I knew it would be a good distraction for me. Just as I was heading out the door around 9:00 a.m., Tim Horne called. He said he wanted to come by because he had a few more questions to ask about Josh. I asked if Steve needed to be here and he said it would be helpful if he were but if he was out of town, Tim still needed to come talk to at least me. He said he'd be over within the next 15 or 20 minutes. I called Steve and told him Tim was on his way over because he had more questions. Steve was near Danville, VA and decided to turn around and come home.

I called Cely to let her know I would be late, put on a pot of coffee, let the dogs out and decided to go sweep the front porch while waiting for Tim. I began sweeping and knocking down cobwebs and had my back to the road when I caught a glimpse of someone's car pulling into the driveway. A minute later, Tim approached the front porch, introducing himself and apologizing, again, for his abruptness the day before. As I reached out to shake his hand, I noticed someone following 20 feet behind him and before glancing up I instantly thought it was a fellow officer. When I actually turned my eyes to see his companion, my smile dropped as my mouth opened. He had brought our pastor, Ray Warren, along with him. My knees buckled as Tim and Ray helped me and I kept saying, "No...no...no...no..." I knew if Ray was with him it was the worst of all imaginable news.

They helped me into the house and Tim began to tell me what he knew. He had been up all night, but it wasn't until much later that we learned why.  Tim said that his investigation took him to a grave near Jordan Lake but the body was too decomposed to make a positive ID. He came to me to get the name of Josh's dentist because they were going to have to confirm identification by dental records. I held onto hope that it was all a mistake and this wasn't Josh they found as I gave him the contact info for Dr. Lenise Clifton. He called her from our house and then left to meet her at the dental office while Ray stayed with me. 

Things tend to get a bit fuzzy for me from this point on. I know I tried to reach Sue, Sherry, Marty and Lynn and nobody answered their phones. I left messages and kept trying. I felt a bit peeved at Marty for not having a cell phone when I desperately needed to reach her. I had no idea how long it would take Steve to get home and I wanted to scream, faint, crawl into a hole or get drunk - any of it - all of it - the whole time hoping for good news but my gut was telling me, "This is very bad."  I vaguely remember finally reaching Sue on her cell and just telling her to get everybody over here as soon as possible.

Somewhere in between, Georgia, Amy and Rob showed up at the house with Cely to check-in on me. Apparently, someone from the church had let them know I had received heartbreaking news. They came to keep me company until family arrived. I can't remember who arrived first, my sisters or Lynn, but I remember everyone being present. I don't remember if Lynn got there with Devin or came alone. Like I said, much of this is blurry to me but they are details that aren't really important.  I think Steve arrived either just before or just after Tim Horne returned and delivered the news that confirmed Josh's dental records. I can't remember.

What I do remember is my family, friends and church rallying to love and support us that day, as well as the following weeks and months that followed. They still do. I have little memory of the week that followed or of Josh's memorial service. I remember Pastor Ray calling friends for us. I remember calling my friend Pearl and not being able to finish the conversation, but she showed up at my door all the way from Florida the next evening with her son, Rick and his wife, Jen. I remember Andy, Carla, Philip and Marla being with us everyday for a long time, holding us up, making sure we had nourishment. I remember Gail and Samantha showing up on Sunday morning with food and hugs, stepping in to take Isaac and provide him entertaining distractions while we laid in bed, exhausted and in tears. I remember wishing my mother was able to be with me and hating the cancer that consumed her body and prevented her from making the trip from Florida to be where I knew she wanted to be and glad that she exerted her influence to send my dad in her place. I appreciated the presence of all our siblings being present, along with several cousins - Debby, Patty and Debbie, as well as aunts Carol and Judy and uncle Ben. Our friends the Fortners, Susan and Andrew Schrank, Carole and Charles Ensign, came from parts around the southeast to be here for the memorial service but I remember very little about spending time with them. And there were my co-worker, Linda, and boss Mark, who checked on us every day, as well as Cindy, Rob, my FAN-PAC, and tons of other friends both far and near, too many to mention here, but whose presence and kindness brought us great comfort. Through all of the sadness the one thing that has been demonstrated to us repeatedly is that we have a network of people who love us and for that, we feel truly blessed. We know you can't heal our pain, but you have done a good job of sharing it with me and Steve. Maybe it's this distribution of the pain to all of you that lifts enough weight from us so we are able to get up each morning and carry on with our lives and taking care of Isaac and Jacob.

Today, on this second anniversary of the date we received the horrifying news, I want to thank each of you for hanging in there with us. We might not be good at always letting you know this, but we love you very much and thank God each day for having you in our lives. You have been our strength and encouragement on days when we felt our weakest and as though we couldn't go on. Thank you for being there. Thank you for not letting Josh's memory die with him. Thank you for feeling that despite his personal demons and struggles, he had goodness and potential. Thank you for feeling as indignant as we feel when idiots in the media focus on the negatives in his life. Thank you for helping us remember that Josh was a likable, fun-loving person who could make us laugh and enjoyed simple things in life, like country music, fishing, riding a bicycle, playing board games, taking walks, sharing time with family, helping neighbors, or eating a bowl of pinto beans with cornbread. Mostly, thank you in advance for standing beside us as we wait for the slow process of justice for Josh. Two years seems like an eternity when you are waiting for trials to begin. Let's hope they begin and end, soon.

Love to all...julie

Memories from a vacation gone right and wrong...

And old high school friend of mine, Al, recently sent me the story about Kulula Airlines, a South African low-fare airline that seems to have a keenly developed sense of humor. On a recent flight, passengers reported hearing the pilot on the PA system say, "Kulula Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight." The airline doesn't just knockout one-liners over the PA system. They also have painted their aircraft in a lime green color with directional indicators all over the outside of the plane, much like what you might see on a blueprint. I especially like the arrows pointing to "the big cheese (captain, my captain!)" and "black box (which is actually orange)." Of course, the giant imprinted "flying 101" could cause passengers to lose a little confidence.
The airline story caused me to remember an incident Steve and I experienced in 1986 when we made a trip to Cozumel. It was our tenth anniversary and we were in the midst of building our first home together. I worked for an advertising agency and found a really sweet deal through the Hotel and Travel Index (HTI) for under $400 each that included roundtrip airfare, four nights/five days stay in a suite at an oceanfront resort, three meals a day, and two diving trips. Awesome! A few years earlier we both were certified as SCUBA divers and loved the sport, so thought it would make a great diving trip.

Culture shock set-in shortly after we touched down in Cozumel. Of course, it was preceded by extreme fear as the airplane's landing gear touched the tar mac with brakes on. We felt like we were in a mile long skid when we made a rapid, sharp turn at the end of the runway to avoid hitting the thicket of palm scrub. All passengers were thrown into a deep lean to the right as the plane made what felt like a 90-degree turn. There were plenty of cheers when the plane finally came to a halt, safely at the terminal.

Collecting our baggage and moving through Customs was a breeze, but an uneasy feeling began to set-in when we noticed all of the airport security. It was something out of a Hollywood movie set. There were short, native men standing around everywhere, dressed in what appeared to be a navy blue version of our orange prison jump suits, holding automatic weapons while eyeballing the perimeter of  a 10-foot tall barbed wire fence that surrounded the airport. Steve and I gave questioning glances at each other, wondering what we had gotten ourselves into.

Our Cozumel vacation package included what was advertised as "limousine shuttle to and from the airport." We saw our driver waiting near baggage claims holding a sign indicating he was from our resort. We had to wait while other passengers collected their luggage and we all walked to our "limousine" together. It was only us and two college girls from Miami. When we walked out of the terminal with our chauffeur, we passed a stretch limo and walked over to a 20 year-old VW van where he began loading our luggage. The four of us stared questioningly to one another, unable to speak. Our driver escorted us to the open van door and motioned for us to "have a seat." All of the seats inside the van had been removed and replaced with pieces of plywood nailed on top of milk crates secured to the floorboard. Steve helped me in and said, "Well, I guess you get what you pay for."

It was a bumpy ride, in more ways than one. We chatted with the college students who were staying at a resort different from ours. Their package also include "limousine shuttle to and from the airport." The four of us tried to laugh about our predicament and enjoy the scenery along our drive. There was some road construction, which was interesting because there was no heavy equipment being utilized. Workers were clearing the road with pick axes, shovels and rakes. Other construction workers were sawing trees by the roadside and we found it interesting that they were using donkeys to haul away the fallen trees. It was a site to behold and gave us great appreciation for the modern conveniences we have at home and also gave us a visual for what life was probably like in the early days for our own country's settlers.

Our driver took the two students to their resort first. He made a turn off of the narrow pavement onto a dirt road through the palm scrubs and we drove for about a half mile, wondering the entire time if we were being driven to the middle of nowhere to be robbed and abandoned. Stupid us. Anybody could have held a sign with our resort names written on it. We didn't even ask for any I.D. from the guy! All of a sudden the scrub opened up and we were in front of what appeared to be a bombed out building. The front looked more like ruins than a resort. The girls were really scared and we were frightened for them. When we pulled up, another man ran to greet the girls and help with their luggage. We quickly exchanged names and contact info for each resort as a safety measure, just in case the girls found themselves stranded. Then we were off through the scrub down the lonesome road again, heading for our resort - at last. It wasn't very far down the road from the girls' resort, but again we turned down another dirt road through the scrub brush. This time, we came to a guarded gate resembling a border patrol. The attendant was armed with an automatic weapon which he used to wave us through the gate. It was an unsettling feeling as we approached our destination.

Our resort didn't look as shelled as the previous one but it was clearly in serious disrepair. This time, an American met us out front to help with our baggage and check us into the resort. Once we walked through the ruins of the porticoes, the other side of the building was like heaven! The flooring changed to terra cotta tiles and a beautiful garden landscape that opened up to the crystal clear ocean. The beautiful white sandy beach was painted with colorful cabanas and sailboards that we could see across the two swimming pools. Our room was facing a garden and was like an oasis retreat. The service and food were amazing. There was even a domesticated Tucan who begged food from the guests as they dined on the lanai.

The diving trips were phenomenal! When we set out on the converted shrimp boat for our first dive trip we passed the resort where we left the girls. It was even more stunningly beautiful than where we were staying. We never heard from the two girls and imagine they had an incredible vacation, too. Of course, the converted shrimp boat ran extremely slow, which was frustrating for a boat filled with anxious divers. Once we anchored, our dive master grouped us by four's and instructed us to meet him at the anchor. He dove into the crystal blue water and we could see him swim all the way to the anchor. We all began jumping in, one after another. But when I hit the water, I surfaced to locate Steve and that was a mistake. I could see that the deck of the boat was a good 15 feet above the water line and I began to panic that I would never get my fat rear-end back on board. One of my other dive buddies who had already made two dives offered me word of comfort. He said, "Don't worry about it! See that crane and line? They throw that overboard for everybody. You toss your fins and mask into the bucket and they lasso your tanks and hoist you up to the ladder."  Oh, yeah. The ladder that was 10-feet above the water line. Easy. HA! So, I let the air out of my BC vest and began my descent into heaven underwater. I had a few minor problems on the dive with my BC vest. My air tank kept leaking into the vest forcing it to inflate slowly, which caused me to start rising towards the surface, so my entire dive, I had to keep squeezing my arms together to push the air out of the vest. It was quite an adventure.

I've gone a long way around in sharing our vacation adventure to tell you about the airplane. The most frightening and yet, funny experience happened while we were waiting in the airport to depart. Our plane was delayed because the plane scheduled before us was delayed. We flew Mexicana Airlines and were waiting for the AeroMexico plane to leave. The technicians working at the airport kept running out to the plane checking something at the door hatch. This went on for over an hour. Finally, they allowed the departing passengers to board the plane. As they closed the door, two of the technicians took rolls of duct tape out of their back pockets and sealed the door shut. No kidding. When they finished, they walked down the rolling stairwell, pushing it aside so our plane could move up the tar mac for us to board. The technicians were shaking their heads and wiping the sweat off their foreheads and necks, laughing and talking in Spanish, saying what I can only imagine to be words of congratulation about having come up with such an ingenious idea. All of us passengers waiting to board the next plane laughed in disbelief - and fear. I told Steve if our door didn't shut as soon as the last person boarded, we were taking a boat home. Fortunately, that didn't happen.

Sadly, about a month later, AeroMexico flight 498 crashed in its descent to Los Angeles when a second, smaller aircraft collided with it mid-air. There were no survivors. Steve and I couldn't help but think of that AeroMexico plane on the tar mac at Cozumel as we watched a ground crew tape shut the hatch with duct tape. We were glad that it, at least, had made it safely to its destination.