Thursday night at 10:30 pm I received a phone call from Lizzie's mother, Berta, who informed me that Lizzie had been found and is safe. She is currently staying at her stepfather's house in San Francisco. This evening I received an email from a police officer from San Rafael with whom I have been communicating regarding the case:
Mr. Oates,
I returned to work today and found your e-mail. I assume you heard that Ofcr. ______ of our department located your daughter in the downtown area of our city last night. He recognized her from a flyer. She was subsequently returned to Berta. She was cited for running away from home. Although this is not a criminal violation, there are some consequences associated with it. Such as community service.
Ofcr. _______
Wow! This just blew me away! The most awesome thing is that the Officer recognized Lizzie from a flyer that he had seen, a flyer that had to have been placed by a Kossack! I have to say that you have all really made a difference!
I felt a little embarrassed the other day that the story of my daughter's disappearance was receiving so much attention, but it also cemented the realization that there are a lot of good folks out there. I have to tell you that the responses, the advice, the offers of assistance, and the support that we received deeply touched everyone who knows and loves Lizzie.
I have been in touch with many of you offline, and am sorry that I haven't replied personally to everyone, but the response was overwhelming. There were so many warm sentiments, sensible suggestions, and offers of help, and it is just so wonderful to know that this effort makes a difference.
Like many of you I have grown cynical and a tad irritated over the cruel antics I have witnessed over past few years, and in many ways for this very reason I have somewhat lost touch with my own humanity. (isn't it ironic?) Sometimes I feel like I'm fighting windmills and I forget to nurture and listen to the very ones that I am committed to. When struggle produces only alienation and separation, something is out of balance. I yam that I yam, and I will continue to voice my opinions and fight for what I believe in, but not without considering first the effect that my actions have on those that I love. This week I feel that the circle of those that I love has widened immensely.
At the risk of sounding a bit "group-huggish", I must say that I will never forget your responses. I was holding my self so in check by Thursday that I felt like a piece of granite. When I saw MaryScott's diary that morning, I suddenly began to cry uncontrollably. Whatever you wish to call it, it is love that spurns one to take an such an interest in the welfare of another human being. And in my book, that makes each and every one of you so much richer!
As for Lizzie, she is now in an environment that is safe and nurturing, but I can't say where her head is. It will take some time to get things sorted out and I must say that I am trying very hard to not rely on my habitual expectations. I have saved Thursday's diary with all of its comments and will some day present it to Lizzie as I feel certain that the diary will be very important to her in the years to come. Believe me, you have made a significant difference in her life.
I have rambled on quite enough, and I hope that this diary is not considered as inappropriate. In closing, please let me say once again that you folks are all great! By the way, if any of you are planning a trip to our reddest of states, please get in touch with me (My email is in my profile). Its really lotsa fun down here and there are plenty of good folk around.
Love to you all.
Stuart
Epilogue
This Alabama summer has been intolerably hot but tonight finally cools and the humidity drops. The cicadas still chorus their cyclic drone, oblivious to this foreshadowing of the shortening of summer days. The week has certainly been a hot one for me. Aside from the drama of trying to locate my daughter I am notified that I am cordially invited to attend a computer- generated audit of my place of business by the State of Alabama Tax Department. As if this isn't enough, I arrive home Friday afternoon to discover that our air conditioner has succumbed to the "ten year curse" and will only return to life if I pay the HVAC gypsy $5,000. All I can say is that this is a Red Stripe Friday. Yep, time to slice up a fresh lime and pull out two or three of those seductive Jamaican sweeties. While I'm at it, I just might break out that fat Cuban that my good friend Richard gave me this morning. Is that "Box of Rain I hear"? Turn it up... a little more... This ain't no time to drown in sorrow, man. This is a time to celebrate the fact that I am living and that I still have 10 fingers, ten toes, and two of everything that I am supposed to have two of. Its f**king great to be alive! So keep yer funny bone and the faith will folllow!
Salaam Y'all