Pamela and Roe vs Wade.
“For you created my inmost being, You knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Psalm 139: 13,14
Emily,
When I found out you and Clark eloped, I was overwhelmed. My initial reaction was mixed with feelings of happiness and worry. How could she get married so soon after Pam was found? Is everything alright? I thought you and Clark got married hastily in an attempt to comfort you. I have wondered about that since then, and your letter to Pam which you posted yesterday has finally silenced my worry. I know it is none of my business at all, but I am really happy that you and Clark have one another. :-)
The police found Pam while I was still dealing with my head injuries, doctors, memory loss, trying to finish up school online, and grieving that I wasn’t able to graduate June 2007 with all my friends. One of my doctors, probably the best one I had, called my mom the morning of September 13th to tell her to turn the TV to the local news. The Dr had seen information about Pam on the news, and she knew from what I had told her that this was the same girl. These “remains” were once Pam’s body. The Dr didn’t want me to find out in a harsh way.
For years after my concussions, I’ve slept differently. Used to be a light sleeper, now I sleep like I’m comatose. So when the Dr called, I didn’t hear the phone ring. I heard mom crying when she came into my room, and I thought it was part of my dream. I had been having nightmares since May 2007, so my mother crying fit right in with my terrors. When she was able to wake me up, she told me “They found Pam. Dr. Berntson didn’t want you to find out in a bad way. She saw it on the news. They found Pam.”
Can you believe that I didn’t cry, Emily? I still can’t. I laid in bed for a bit, then got up and started to clean. I cleaned for hours, starting with my room, then the other bedrooms, the living room, the kitchen. My mom stopped me before I started cleaning the bathrooms and made me sit down and eat. I was suppose to work a retreat that weekend, but I couldn’t stomach it.
I don’t remember the day I actually cried about it all, but I do remember that once that day came I didn’t stop crying until I went back to that same Dr. The Dr told me in July 2007 that I was not “clinically depressed” and I shouldn’t let anyone try to convince me otherwise. She said “You’ll know if you ever become depressed. Please tell someone though. You can come back to me, and we’ll try the EMDR again. If that doesn’t help, I know a really good psychiatrist. She can help you.” Funny the things I can remember from my hazy period. In October 2007, I went back to the EMDR Dr, to thank her for calling about Pam and let her know that I was pretty sure what I was feeling was depression. I had 7 out of the 10 symptoms for severe depression. I wasn’t suicidal, I didn’t have an eating disorder, and I didn’t think I was completely without worth, but other than those three… depressed.
Even though I can trace back my depression to the uncovering of Pam’s remains, I am thankful she was the one to push me over. Sophomore year of high school, Pam disappearing pushed me over. It took my superficial life and shook it all around. Before she went missing, her domestic situation chilled me to the core and made me feel more anger, justified anger, than I had ever felt. I believe God worked through Pam, as well as others, to help ignite my spirit. I’m sure she ignited yours, Em.
After Pam left, I talked with a priest for spiritual guidance. In amongst good advice, he told me to pray for the intersessions of St. Dymphna. She is the patron saint of runaways. When I suffered my concussions, I found out that St. Dymphna is also the patron saint of neurological diseases, like migraines.
I thought about writing something yesterday for Pam and Roe vs Wade. I feel like the two go hand in hand for me now. One thing I can remember Pam telling me was that she was thankful she wasn’t aborted. I had never heard anyone say that before… since then I’ve heard it multiple times from adults and friends my age who found out their parents considered abortion. Pam disappeared on the anniversary of Roe vs Wade. I know there must be tons of things that wouldn’t have happened, couldn’t have happened, and might have happened instead if Pam had not lived passed the womb, but I feel that many terrifyingly wonderful events have happened in my life, stemming from Pam entering it and escalating with Pam leaving it.
Thank you for posting yesterday, Emily.
Prayer for life by Pope John Paul II
O Mary, bright dawn of the new world,
Mother of the living,
to you do we entrust the cause of life:
Look down, O Mother, upon the vast numbers
of babies to be born,
of the poor whose lives are made difficult,
of men and women who are victims of brutal violence,
of the elderly and the sick killed
by indifference or out of misguided mercy.
Grant that all who believe in your Son
may proclaim the Gospel of life
with honesty and love to the people of our time.
Obtain for them the grace
to accept that Gospel as a gift ever new,
the joy of celebrating it with gratitude
throughout their lives
and the courage to bear witness to it resolutely,
in order to build,
together with all people of good will,
the civilization of truth and love,
to the praise and glory of God,
the Creator and lover of life.
Amen.
Today is the five year anniversary of Pam’s missing. She was officially listed as missing January 23, 2005. Five years later it seems we haven’t gotten very far from where it all began. Perhaps that’s because I don’t know how the police department handles things, perhaps it’s because we’ll probably never really know, or perhaps it’s because, even though it has been five years, it still feels like yesterday.
I suppose it gets easier. As time moves on, a person has to as well. Things change, people change, times change… and you have no choice but to go forward and hope that memories still stay with you. It seems as more time passes I start to remember little things that didn’t stick out when she was with us.
I think I have learned more about Pam since she’s been gone. Of course I knew her, but I didn’t know everything. Being able to learn of her life before Fayetteville, and even her life in Fayetteville, seems to be a blessing and a curse at this point in time. While I can sometimes talk about it and wonder and be calm… other times all I do is get upset. I suppose it’s natural, since it happened when I was “so young” and I was forced to grow up. I was tossed in to an unnatural world of reporters, detectives, random friends of hers, family, teachers, people who “understood”… now I look back and it just seems so surreal. I know it happened, know I was there… but now when I replay it, it seems like a movie, or a special on TV. It feels like it wasn’t happening to me. Maybe because I blocked out things, maybe because I just became this void of nothingness… I don’t know. Maybe I don’t like to talk about it moreso because of how it affected me rather than because of what happened. Is that bad?
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to post from the book today. I’m afraid of posting something has a million grammatical errors that Allison hasn’t gotten to yet, or something that may not be as appropriate as I wish it to for today’s anniversary. I didn’t want to post the end of the book, but I decided to post my last letter to Pam. Along with that, I’m posting the poem I read at her memorial service in Fayetteville. I think this will work, and I think it explains so much about the book. Writing this book has been a project for Pam; it has been a project to share her story, the way I knew it, give insight to her case through interviews and newspaper clippings, and to ultimately continue her life in some kind of way. Publishing this book will make sure that Pam is remembered, not just by me, but by everyone. Everyone who may read this book will know her as I did, miss her like I do, and I hope they will make sure to attempt to prevent anything that they may. Does that make sense? I sincerely hope so.
Dear Pam,
Today is October 27, 2007. It’s your nineteenth birthday… or at least it should be. It has been too long since I wrote; as always my dedication faltered and reality took me away from you. Reality took you away from me, though… officially. I am not alone in this world as I once thought I was, however.
Would you believe me if I told you Clark and I are married? I imagine you would. I just always knew… and now I have a lifetime with him to show that those three years of waiting were worth it. We married on September 20, 2007, just eight days after the police found you on Fort Bragg. I told Clark I didn’t want to wait. He had proposed September 4th, and we hadn’t told anyone, planning on informing our families a year later, and marrying after school. I realized, however, that I didn’t want to wait any longer. I already knew he was who I wanted to be with; also, officially finding you… it made me realize how little time we could have. So, we married at eleven in the morning, walking down to the courthouse. Not as romantic as it could have been, but we’ll have a “real” wedding someday.
We had a memorial service for you September 22, 2007. I read a poem that I wrote for you. Almost everyone was there. Your dad, your grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, teachers and friends. Your grandparents had a funeral in Washington that Clark and I were going to attend, but we were unable to due to finances.
Did I tell you I put a sign on my dorm room door once I found out you were…gone? I had some girls ask questions, and some who just completely ignored it. They didn’t want to have to deal with anything at the beginning of college. It’s so strange to me how cold they are; I wish you were here, though I know we would be at different schools if….
There’s so much I want to tell you Pam, and could tell you, but I think this is my final letter. It is not healthy to cling to the past so much. Especially now….
I have my life with Clark to look forward to. I have school, I have travels, I have my life, Pam, and I know you wouldn’t want me to stop living again. That first year you went missing, I went missing as well. I think I’ve finally found that piece that was lost. It was truly discovered when you were found, as sick and twisted as that may be.
I found myself, Pam, and I have you to thank for that. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you. So, wherever you are now, I thank you, and send my love, my memories… and in a sense… my life.
~Emily Herring Dunn
The stars are bright and the moon is high
But little angel I don’t see you in the sky
Tonight was the night I was told you were gone
Two years after that bright red dawn
I don’t know how to tell others just how I feel
In unworthy words this seems unreal
After letting it pass and trying to forget
You come into the limelight with that old regret
Little silver angel with your eyes so wide
Have you found that safe place to hide
Please send your spirit so I know you’re all right
Keep me company in this lonely night
All open arms just seem too cold
I just want the memorable faces of old
I want to be comforted, to set my soul free
More than anything I want you here with me
Little silver angel with your eyes so wide
Have you found that safe place to hide
Please send your spirit so I know you’re all right
Keep me company in this lonely night
~And then I saw that butterfly
A silver mist high in the sky
The warmest feeling took hold of my heart
I knew right then it was your brand new start
You were at peace, in heaven, with Him
Away from the pain, the world, from them
Just be patient and I’ll be there soon
I’ll come to you under some distant moon
Little silver angel with your eyes so wide
Have you found that safe place to hide
Please send your spirit so I know you’re all right
Keep me company in this lonely night
