You're going to have to bear with me tonight as I write this post. It's been an emotional 5 days and there are so many things I've been thinking tonight, but all I seem to be able to do right now is cry.
If you live in San Diego, or are from San Diego, you obviously know what has been going on. If you live in Rancho Bernardo, the sirens, noises of helicopters over our houses, search dogs in our backyards, and constant news vans on our streets is a constant reminder.
Let me begin by telling you how precious my town is to me. I have such pride for Rancho Bernardo. Our family ties are strong here. My grandparents were one of the first families to "settle" Rancho Bernardo. We still have the newspaper with their story and pictures in front of their new house, surrounded by green hills, which would one day become a suburban sanctuary. My grandparents were extremely involved in the community. My grandpa was the "father" of the town. He established traditions in this town, that are still recognized today, such as the annual luminaries lighting the streets on Christmas Eve. Everyone in our town knows someone in my family. I cannot run one errand without someone asking me about my grandma, or telling me a funny memory of my grandpa, or telling me how much I look like my mom, or making me promise to hug someone. I have always lived in this town. Every street, every landmark has a memory or a story. There are etchings on trees, benches overlooking the lake, hand prints in cement all over this town from me. It is my childhood, it houses my favorite memories, it is my home.
Our little town of Rancho Bernardo has been shaken by the recent tragedy of Chelsea King, a 17 year old angel from Poway. We knew something was wrong when the commotion started. For the past 6 days, we've grown accustomed to the overhead noise of police, news, and FBI helicopters. We learned more of this crime everyday, finding it a little too close for comfort. Thousands of volunteers came out daily for the search and rescue. The hope was that Chelsea was just hurt and hiding under a rock, or passed out from cold and the constant rain. When we learned that a man, convicted sex offender, was in custody, everyone started feeling a little tense. We all just wanted answers. But at least they had a lead. It started at the RB community park, right down the street. A couple days later we heard the sirens. Mom and I deeming ourselves the "siren chasers" decided to run outside and see what was going on. We ran a little ways down across the street to the caution tape and news anchors. That night we learned that right across the street, in our precious little neighborhood, a convicted sex offender had been living without any of us knowing. He is a registered sex offender, being harbored by his family, using a different address under his name. Everyone was surrounding the news vans, and the question at hand was, "why did no one know he was living here?" Why was he given a plea bargain and put back on the streets when the psychiatrist deemed him a danger to society? Why did his parents think a loop hole was appropriate, and why are they not in a cell next to him? Why did we not know he was living in a neighborhood with children in every house, on the same street as an elementary school? Still...we felt hopeful. We were gonna bring Chelsea back home. Prayers were being said by a city full of believers. We went to bed to the now familiar sounds of sirens and helicopters, feeling somewhat comforted knowing there were people still hard at work to bring this child home, sleeping a little easier knowing at least for tonight our neighborhood was protected and safe.
As I was making myself lunch today with the news in the background, I heard the words no one wanted to hear: "A body has been found." No. Pleaseeee no! Our precious angel was with Heavenly Father. It was like the whole town was deflated. The search center was packed up. Hope was gone. All day we've all just felt sick. And how can you not think about her parents and little brother? It just doesn't make sense. Things like this don't happen in this town. Our town is that Norman Rockwell painting everyone loves.
The air is quiet. The helicopters are gone. The sirens are silenced. And there's a family without their baby at home.
But I will say this- Besides the San Diego firestorm of 2007, I have never in my life seen a community pull together like this. Everyday, thousands of volunteer searches went out onto the trails and in the brush looking for Chelsea. Whether it was in the heavy winds and rain, or in the hot sun, the people came. Her parents looked to the community to keep them pressing on with hope. But hearing her mom and dad speak everyday, hearing the hope in their voices, and the courage of her father, I think they kept us hopeful and kept us going, the searchers searching, the prayers being said.
Tonight, over 5,000 people attended a candlelight vigil in memory of Chelsea. The crowd prayed, listened to some of her favorite songs, and walked silently throughout the streets of the community. She has become everyone's daughter, sister, and friend. Her dad said at the vigil, "One of the nicknames that I've always called my daughter is my Angel. She's my angel forever. I want to thank you. Chelsea wants to thank you." When someone shouted, "We love you," he responded, "We love all of you."
What stands out the most to me is how her parents said Chelsea wanted to help the world. And she has. She has helped put a sick man behind bars, who can no longer hurt anyone. She has helped bring safety awareness to our kids and teens. She has reminded us all to tell our parents and kids how much we love them, and to never take one day for granted.
I think tonight it was said best: "A note to everyone out there listening-you're not going to come into our town and hurt our women and children anymore." This man thought he wandered into a town built upon the sand. What he got was a community built upon a rock. We protect our own. We use the strength of prayer through someone who is greater than us. Justice will come. Peace will come. We will never ever forget Chelsea or the King family.
"While we are mourning the loss of a friend, others are rejoicing to meet her behind the veil."
I know that families are forever. The Kings will all be together again one day. But for now, her family has their baby watching over them, and heaven has one more angel.
