Friday, June 1, 2012

Attorney General's Missing Children's Day.




Missing Children's Day on Channel 11, Little Rock

Attorney General hosts annual Missing Children's Day Ceremony

I spent the better part of Monday and Tuesday writing a speech for the Arkansas Attorney General's Office for Missing Children's Day. I put the link above in case anyone wanted to watch it. Channel 11 out of Little Rock did a nice piece and I, even though I look calm and collected was, as always, somewhat jittery. It gets me every time thinking that the worst of the worst happened to my daughter. She didn't deserve any of that. AT ALL.

But, in the past 13 years I have learned how to talk to the media, I have learned how to hook a wireless microphone (clipped on the back of my skirt and mic wire up through my jacket to my lapel) to myself. I can say the things I need to say without fear, I can talk about missing children and the things to do to prevent it all day long. Sad that I know all the statics in regards to missing children because I wanted to be a rock star when I grew up and I'm not kidding. I know, everyone wants to be a rock star but I was so certain that I sent a letter to Mutt Lange when I was twelve and he wrote me back (oh, how I wish I still had that letter) and expressed my desire. He told me to work hard, form a band and never give up. As with all the "rock star" dreams of a twelve year old, I put it aside and went on living my life.

Anyway...back to the past 13 years of knowing how to say the right things in front of a camera when you are speaking in terms of your beautiful little daughter who has been brutally murdered by a predatory monster. I know what to say and how to say it. 13 years is a lot of practice. But, one thing I was not prepared for yesterday was the face of one man. This man knows something very personal about me that I would rather be erased from his memory, from my memory. And there he was in that room full of people, ready to sit down to hear what I had to say. I was terrified. How could I talk about it with him looking at me, knowing what he knows, what he had to do to me, what he had to say knowing it would forever change and possible destroy my life forever?

It was Sheriff Mike Oglesby. Oh, he isn't the Polk County Sheriff anymore he's now a US Marshall and rightfully so, but when he told me "that thing," that life altering, heart ripping, thing he told me, my life changed forever. The Rebecca I was five moments before he walked in the door and told me "that thing" he knew is now forever dead. Not saying that he is responsible because he had to say it, had to put an end to the agony of me waiting for my missing child to come home safe. The knowledge he possessed when he walked in the door to tell me must have been an awful burden. I cannot image facing the mother of a 12-year-old girl and telling her "that thing."

He said it slow. While I was trying to run away from him, I saw his face, the grim look of death etched deep in his brow. And I tried to make my own door through the back of the room and only ended up in a corner like a caged animal. I had no other choice but to listen to his words of icky death from the pits of hell and when he said them it seemed to be in very slow motion...

"Beccccccccckkkkkkkkkiiiii, she's deaaaaaaaaaaad and Karrrrrrrrrrrrllllllllll Robertsssssssss hassssssss admittttttttteddddddd to killlllllllllllllllling herrrrrr."

All slow and the room spun.

So, yesterday when I saw him. My heart gave a big leap. He knew I had collapsed that day. He had heard me scream ,"Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!" He knew. He knew it all. And I had to give a speech and speak about how in the past 13 years, I have finally found hope and peace and love again. How through the last 13 years I had come to hate God and then decide I still loved Him. While I gave my speech I looked at Sheriif Oglesby a few times in the back of the room, I could see the outline of his head, but the light was too bright in my face and I couldn't tell if he was crying or not, but most everyone else was crying. I can only assume he got somewhat choked up. I mean, I would have.

I have thought about this a lot in the past 24 hours and after seeing the band Aerosmith last night (it was a busy day) and watching these real rock stars perform I have come to a conclusion about my own life. We are all equally important, whether we make money to perform music to make people happy or we stand up and use our own experiences to help others cope with their own losses. Even if it is one person, even if it is making 17,000 people smile because your music is classic. It doesn't matter. We are all here for a purpose. And I had to smile at something Bill, this wonderful man who God put in my life, put on my FaceBook today and I quote: "Your speech was perfect today! Little Rock's Channel 11 did a great report on you and the entire event. I think you're the rock star. Aerosmith who??? :)"

I'll take that compliment, and even if he's the only one who thinks that, I guess that makes me a rock star. :D And I didn't need Mutt Lange after all.