Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Now I Am A Getty Girl



I checked my list of images on Google, again. I do that on a fairly regular basis. It's fun (and
sometimes enlightening) to see what the Big "G" picks up that is associated with my name.

Today, I got a big surprise.

There, amidst the standard stock of Ruthie photos, is a new addition. The picture is one that
I forgot about. But when I saw it again...all the memories came rushing back.

The image is a picture of me from fourteen years ago. I had just turned 47 years old and I was
a really rebellious little spitfire back then. The photographer, Fred Field, zeroed right in on
me when I asked a very loaded, pertinent question in a packed room.

And it is obvious from the expression on my face that I meant business.

Now, after a number of years...Getty has decided to claim ownership of it. And I am shocked.

Not everybody goes Getty. But I did.

And of all of the photos that they could have picked...they chose this one. It is the pure essence
of who I still am inside. Yes, I am.

Am I smiling right now?

Yes. I. am.

Isn't that $575.00 license rights tab a hoot?

Monday, November 28, 2016

Christmas Questions About Kyron

Kyron, young man...where did you go?
I am still searching for your footprints in the December snow...

Can you hear me calling?
My voice rising in the light of dawn...
While the Christmas snow is falling:
"Where oh where oh where have you gone?

I wear a cross on a beaded chain
and the heart of a lioness is curled around my sleeve
And when I watch a Northern train
I believe, I still believe, I sure do believe...

You will return again:
(We will trust in God's promise until then)

When the Springtime comes back around this way
You will run and hug your mama Desiree
And wipe all her Winter tears away.*

Composed And Designed With Faith by Me.~*

Someone brought up Kyron Horman's name recently. Out of the murky depths
of my afternoon nap...while I rode with a kind soul up a northbound stretch of
highway 101. Kyron Richard Horman's name was mentioned...again.

Holidays seem to push that young boy legend back in the social consciousness
and the spotlight...again.

And I am haunted by the realization that while children have vanished over the
years, I continue to safely travel via the grace of total strangers. That fact continues
to do a number on me.

This is the way that I see it now: Either Kyron is alive and depending on me to be
in the right place at the right time or I'm on the trail to whomever took Kyron. I
cannot imagine that I am here simply because fate dealt me the luck of the draw.

My words may or may not make sense to you. But you have to consider that on
the day that Kyron disappeared, I hitchhiked through Ontario, Oregon and on to
Boise, Idaho. I stopped at the Stinker's Truck Stop that is located right off of
Interstate 84 and then I was picked back up by a family who had given me a ride
earlier in the day. They ended up calling me several hours later and then they
picked me back up again, at Stinker's and then brought me back to their house.

I almost stayed at that house overnight but I didn't like the vibes and so one of the
people brought me back to Stinker's later on that night. In my mind, for some strange
reason, I keep seeing Terri in her red Mustang, meeting us earlier that day in Caldwell,
Idaho. She pulled up to a traffic light, we yelled some smack to her and when the light changed
Terri laughed and then roared off at a high rate of speed. She looked
someone who had just won a big Powerball lottery. I swear that I remember her pointing out
her custom license tag to my driver.

Did I dream it?

Then I see a boy who looked just like Kyron, wire spectacles and all, sitting in the
cab of a semi-truck in the Stinker's parking lot. But he was wearing a light-colored
t-shirt...not a black one. He was singing that owl song that he liked. I waved at him and
smiled...he smiled back and kept on jumping around like he was restless and bored.
There wasn't an adult in sight until a man walked from the main building to that big
truck that was parked next to the one that I was in.

That's when I heard the driver say an odd thing to the boy: "Hey, I thought I told you
to stay back there."

I saw that he was referring to the tractor's sleeper.

"Get back there, now" said the man.

"He's kind of wild" remarked the man to me. "A real handful."

He made his observation like someone who had just spent his first day with the child. There
was something about his demeanor that didn't connect properly with the hyperactive boy.

Did I dream that, too?

I traveled back-and-forth that day due to the fact that the family that picked me up
decided to invite me to their house. It was a confusing day and I was very tired after
hitchhiking from the Western side of the State.

So now I am not sure if I just fell asleep and had coincidental dreams...or what I think
happened...kinda-sorta did.

But I am sure that when I watched Terri Moulton Horman (or Horman Moulton if you 
want to get technical about it...but not, not that!) I listened to the responses
of a totally guilty woman.

The year is almost over again and I am, I am DEMANDING TO KNOW:

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Another Life In The Line

                                                    SELFIE/EDITS BY RUTH RADER

I came across an article on the KGW-TV channel 8 website today and the following
video message includes my reaction to what I read: