Category Archives: Michelle Le

Happy Birthday, Michelle

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Clinical group photo taken May 26The trial has been draining.

 
I told Marc and Violet I would try to blog every day, but then when it started, I discovered it was much easier to simply leave the courtroom without having to explain or describe the range of emotions that comes with being in the gallery among our family and all of those who love her. Truth be told, the most exhausting parts of the trial are when the evidentiary facts are being excruciatingly repeated in bone dry format – cold and clinical. Or when the defense is painting a suspected murderer to be a saint, and our family has no choice but to listen on to their shameless attempts at garnering sympathy, including their callous and merciless attacks on who we love. They forget, I suppose, that we lost Michelle because she was murdered in cold blood.

 

I suppose they forget that while they are defending a monster who has “future dreams and life goals”, it is because of her that Michelle will never get the chance to live out her future dreams, pursue her life goals, get married, become a mother, spend holidays with her family and laugh with her friends. Her short living years were quickly and brutally ended, but I suppose they forget that.

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But despite the trial unraveling, today is Michelle’s birthday, and those long courtroom days are not my focus. The DNA forensics, bloodwork and details surrounding her murder, both pre-meditated and following the damned act, may have everything to do with Michelle the victim, but there is always Michelle, the person. Beautiful Michelle Thi Le was 26 when she was killed; today, she would have been 28 years old.

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So, today, I will try my hardest to focus on Michelle – the loving, hilarious, carefree, joyful Michelle. The one who kicked ass in board games, who wore big ol’ owl glasses growing up, the one who acted as the Queen when we all played pretend in her backyard playhouse. The one who helped me through my first heartbreak, who taught me how to drive (why anyone thought this was a good idea is still beyond me), who rollerbladed and biked around Mira Mesa when we were all kids, who was a dedicated Beta Phi sorority sister, who saw life through such rose-tinted glasses and always sought the absolute best in people – even if one of those people were to murder her later. Life is painfully ironic at times.

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I miss her so much, it physically hurts today. Most of the time, I still think she will appear around the corner, laughing as she does, making fun of me and all of us because we’re such worrywarts. Being happy go-lucky as usual. Sometimes I really wonder how people grieve and move on. On days like these, it seems almost impossible.

298390_10100635514241173_2856124_n28 years ago today, one of the most amazing, loving, caring, selfless angels was created. I hope she knows that her life and death have inspired so many people in numerous ways. And because of her legacy, her death will never be in vain. Today, though we are without her on this earth, I am envisioning with all my might that she is watching over us as we acknowledge her birthday each in our own ways, being with each of us all, somehow.

I love you and miss you more than anything, Michelle. I know we all do, and that brings some sense of comfort. At least we are not alone, even when the fog of grief is thick. I hope you’re having fun up there, or wherever you are. Happy Birthday, love. Love, love, love you.

Posted in Krystine Dinh, Michelle Le, missing adult | Tagged | 2 Comments on Happy Birthday, Michelle

The Day is Here – We Love You, Michelle

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On May 27, 2011, 26-year-old nursing student Michelle Hoang Thi Le went missing from Hayward, California, just hours before she was going to meet a friend for a weekend trip. Immediately, our family and her friends launched a national search campaign to find her. After 113 exhausting days of searching for her, our amazing volunteers found her on September 17, 2011. Though we didn’t find her alive, like we were vehemently hoping, we had our answer. We had no choice – that answer had to be enough. We laid her to rest and tried with our might to get back to living a different life without her.

It is hard to believe that a year ago today, we found Michelle, after 113 days of searching for her. It’s also hard to believe that the day has come to ensure there is justice for her murder.

The trial is beginning.

I am apprehensive and anxious. And I can’t sleep. The past three weeks have been nerve wracking, to say the least. Every night, my nightmares have revolved around murder, death or being chased by some impending crisis. I’d rather stay awake.

Since she went missing on Friday, May 27, 2011, life took a screeching halt and turned another direction, down a road that we were never prepared to travel. Our search center was our second home; our search teams became our second family.

All that most people see in the news is about her disappearance, the murder, her accused murderer and, now, the trial. But there was a life she had before May 27, 2011 – one full of dancing, playing, laughing, and loving with her friends and her family. Time is slipping by so fast, it seems, and it becomes a challenge to keep that story about the living, breathing Michelle we all know and love. I didn’t want her to become just a memory, a frozen face in pictures. I want to continue telling her story over and over again – about who she was, what food she liked, what she liked to do – everything just to remind myself and others that she existed here, with all of us, before her life was robbed from her.

Our family, her friends – everybody had their own special relationship with her before that day. I can only speak on my own behalf, but I know she spread her light to so many others.

To me, Michelle was a big sister. I looked up to her for as long as I can remember. I miss everything about her.

My favorite memories revolved around Michelle, Michael (her brother), and my brother – all of us within four years of each other in age. Growing up, we would all play “house”, which eventually progressed to video games, Pokémon, card games, board games. You name it, we played it. I remember it was like a kid’s dream come true when Michael and Michelle moved in with our family when she was 14, so the four of us cousins – we all grew up together in a zone that seemed like constant playtime.

We grew older into our teen years. I remember Michelle giving me boy advice in middle school, her tweezing my eyebrows for the first time at twelve, her helping me write my first “crush” letter, burning our sappy love song CDs. My mom even banned us from going into each other’s rooms past 10pm, because we’d be found early in the morning groggy and sleep-deprived from talking until dawn. I remember we even got our first jobs together and scheduled our shifts with each other so we would be able to lounge at La Jolla shores during the day and work at night. I remember choreographing stupid dances to hip hop songs.

We grew up in a huge family with many cousins, most of them boys, so she was my main confidante even into our 20’s. I remember talking about our future weddings and joking about what we would say when we made our maid of honor toasts. I remember talking about me moving back up to the Bay Area so we could hang out here together. I kept my word and I did – only 3 days too late, on May 30, 2011.

She seemed to live as though she knew the secret – that life was short and precious; that relationships mattered most and everything else was just stuff. Most people don’t reach that realization until much later, but Michelle – she always knew. Michelle was joyful, carefree, lighthearted, beautiful inside and out. She laughed easily, joked often, forgave liberally and gave constantly without expecting anything in return. She loved to shop. She was your BEST bargain shopper and had a seriously awesome, fabulous closet. She loved to dance and going out with her friends. She loved to eat, and then judge all restaurants on Yelp. She loved to read. She had 3 tattoos – a compass, a sparrow, and her mom’s signature on her left breast, over her heart. She hated heels and always opted for sandals or boots. She would loan her friends anything they needed or wanted – whether it be a car to get to a job interview or a scarf on a cold day. She gave and gave, and even took her passion for helping and put it toward a career in nursing.

She was in an accelerated nursing program and was only 6 months from graduating from Samuel Merritt University when she was killed. She was only 26 years old.

I remember so much more than words can ever write, than pictures can ever express. I want to capture all of the details in a box, with memories I can pluck out to re-live all the playtimes, shopping dates and conversations we had. But that’s not possible.

Since September 17th 2011, after we found her, we’ve seen grief settle in the veins of each of our lives, spreading its symptoms like a virus. Some of us have lost relationships and friendships after a change of that size and impact. Some of us have grown closer to others who were complete strangers before. Some of us continued to live her legacy because that’s the only way we knew how to cope with our loss – by keeping her name alive. Some of us pretended it never happened, imagining that she’s on vacation or on a very long leave. All of those who loved her – we were all challenged to press ‘reset’ to a new normal.

One of the most important steps of building her legacy and ensuring that her death was not in vain is to make sure her killer is not roaming the streets free with blood on their hands. And we have to take that step – now. Whether or not we want to face the tragedy again, it’s time to. For Michelle.

We cannot thank everyone enough, still, for bringing her home to us. We know that there are many families out there who have missing loved ones, and we were fortunate enough, at least, to be reunited with ours. Please stay with us while we begin the legal process to ensure justice in her name.

She was a granddaughter, a daughter, a sister, a niece, a cousin, a friend, a puppy mom and she is missed everyday.

I love you, Michelle.
We love you, Michelle.

Posted in Krystine Dinh, Michelle Le, missing adult | Tagged | 9 Comments on The Day is Here – We Love You, Michelle

The Glass Half Full and Child Safety

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It was expected to be 106 degrees in Patterson, CA yesterday. Packing lightly, I left my apartment to pick up Danielle [LaMar] from the BART station – ready to head down to the inferno we all call central California. Our three hour mini-roadtrip, though hilariously misdirected as we crossed Sacramento County when we were supposed to be going south, was smooth sailing as we caught up on each other’s lives and the latest in both of our family’s cases.

My first time doing a KlaasKids Print-a-thon was in Patterson nearly a year ago – the October right after we found Michelle. At that time, I was adjusting to a new normal as I started involving myself with the organization that helped find her. That October, I promised myself, Michelle and KlaasKids that I would be involved with this team for the rest of my life.

It was a strong commitment to make, to say the least. Recently, with the trial coming up, I have been reflecting on this new normal that I’ve made and how rapidly and dramatically my lifestyle, hobbies and attitude have changed as a direct result of her death.

I have always believed in optimism – making and seeing things better and brighter. Michelle’s murder presented what was possibly the most challenging situation to be optimistic about; it was senseless, cold, brutal violence that gashed into our lives and made us realize how dark and evil human nature really can be. We, as a society, see robberies and crimes every day on the news, hear about weird zombie cannibals on bath salts, maybe mingled briefly with others who have faced tragedies of their own – but until you taste the same sense of bitter anger, confusion, hopelessness and desperation for answers, you feel shielded from all the world’s woes.

Then there are families who are brave enough to hear about the world’s woes, and not only acknowledge, but face the fact that they should be preventative about protecting their children. Not by avoiding, but embracing, the conversation about child safety.

Danielle, Marc, Violet and I headed to the Patterson festival ready to meet and help those families.

Also joining KlaasKids was Tabitha Cardenas, who lost her own 4-year-old son in early 2011 in Patterson. I had a chance to meet Tabitha last October; she is truly a strong woman with a beautiful smile that seems to defy all that happened to her and her young boy.

At print-a-thons, there is no darkness. Parents line up with their little ones whose ages range from a couple months old to 18 years old, ready to get them fingerprinted and ID-ed. We meet children and teens of all sorts of personalities – from super hyper to rebellious to autistic or with a mental disability – but all children have the same thing in common. They are all lovely, young and trusting – all with the potential to be lost or kidnapped.

These parents wait in line to do one of the best things they could do for their children – prepare to talk to them about child safety. They watch proudly as their child gets fingerprinted and laugh as their sons and daughters smile broadly at our camera. They know that it’s better to be safe than sorry, that the conversation about child safety isn’t something to avoid – that it could be fun and educational.

At the end of the day, we fingerprinted over 260 kids and met dozens of families and parents in the sweltering heat of Patterson. Over 260 kids went home with their bio sheets, safety tips and DNA kits. Hopefully, over 260 kids will have the conversation with their parents about child safety and crisis prevention.

I left the print-a-thon with a spoonful more optimism.

KlaasKids’ print-a-thons have historically helped over a million children. We can only hope our families’ stories helped 260 kids at Patterson; heck, we’d be happy if our families’ stories helped even one more family out there.

A year ago, I was in a dark place. Now I find myself in love with our organization, our searches and the volunteer heroes that we get to interact with on a daily basis. If the abductors, kidnappers and murderers expected our families to back down and whimper at our losses, I hope they know that our optimism overpowers whatever power they think they have. That our loved ones’ legacies far outweigh their pitiful, rotten existences.

Now that’s looking on the bright side of things.

As Danielle and I head back to the East Bay, the temperature drops to a thankfully cooler 88 degrees. The sun is shining brilliantly as we wish those 260 kids the happiest – and safest – futures that they could have.

Posted in KlaasKids Foundation, Krystine Dinh, Michelle Le, Print-A-Thon, Sierra LaMar, Uncategorized | Tagged | 2 Comments on The Glass Half Full and Child Safety

Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 30

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Krystine Dinh is one of the most knowledgeable volunteers at the Sierra Search Center. She is a problem solver, an organizer, and a good friend. When Krystine is present people gravitate to her to talk, walk, or simply sit in silence. Unfortunately Krystine’s knowledge and empathy were not easily achieved as they were born of personal experience.
On May 17, 2011, her devoted cousin Michelle disappeared while taking nursing classes at Kaiser Hospital in Hayward, CA. That event thrust Krystine and her family into the arena that none of us are prepared to enter, yet are expected to master. It’s never easy to stare into the abyss, particularly when the wind is forcefully pushing at your back and especially when one of the people you love the most is unexpectedly missing and thought to be deceased. So, how do you reconcile the chaos of violent crime with an orderly world and a life plan that now litters your path like shards of broken glass? One way to do that is to draw upon your experience and instinct and get busy trying to achieve that elusive reconciliation.
The first time I saw Krystine was on TV. She was facing a bank of television cameras responding to the disappearance of dear Michelle. She seemed cool, calm and collected: as if she’d been doing this all her life. Her words reassured and she spoke with confidence. “Pretty good for somebody who is totally freaking out because her best friend and confidant had disappeared” I thought.
About a week later I met Krystine, her cousin Michael Le and Michelle’s entire family. She had moved to the Bay Area to begin a new job the day before Michelle vanished. She seemed smaller in person: more fragile. The rest of the family lived in San Diego and had caravanned up to the Bay Area to find Michelle. They needed help.

Instinct is a gift. It is different than intelligence, but equally as important in achieving success. Instinct helps you to get your bearings in the storm and assists in navigating against a difficult tide. Michelle’s family remained united in the midst of a ripping tide, but it was left to the kids, the first generation Americans, to navigate. Krystine belied her years and took the helm. She never wavered in her resolve, she never lost her cool and she commanded the respect of all.

It has been less than a year since Michelle disappeared. It took four months to find her. It has been less than eight months since Michelle’s remains were discovered. Yet Krystine and her remarkable cousin Michael come to the Sierra Search Center whenever they can. They have fought through the pain and the agony of loss and have emerged stronger and more focused for the experienced. Now they share the benefit of their experience with those facing a similar situation.
Krystine Dinh is one of the most knowledgeable and experienced volunteers at the Sierra Search Center. With her help we have conducted sixteen volunteer searches. We have deployed 6,134 searchers on 556 search assignments and blanketed a 20-mile radius around Sierra’s home. In all we have expended 30,936 hours and fed and supplied the entire enterprise on primarily donated food and supplies. Wow!
Violet says that Krystine reminds her of me. In a certain sense that may be so. However, Krystine is much younger, much prettier, and probably much smarter than me. She’s also a woman and she is Asian. You know, in many ways Krystine reminds me of Violet.
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Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 6

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On the Other Side

 

This routine is familiar. I woke up at 6AM, prepared to make a long drive to a search center that promises an even longer day. Media trucks are parked outside, but our family is not the one they’re looking to hound now. A long line forms outside with volunteers eager to help. Most are not familiar faces, but their presence is calming. The emotions that come with every search are difficult for me to comprehend – filled with anxiety, but unbeatable hope, exhaustion but perseverance. But this time, I’m on the other side. I’m a volunteer – one of the many- simply looking to make even an ounce of difference in the effort to bring Sierra home.
 “Whatever it takes”, I tell myself – the same phrase I repeated in my head over and over when Michelle went missing last May.
 The first time I met Sierra’s family, I was speechless. What is there to say that would suffice? They are facing a nightmare every minute of the day; they wake up each morning wondering where Sierra is and every night hoping Sierra is alive, fed, safe, warm, trying to find her way back. And on top of all of that, they have to use whatever brain power they have left to coordinate a national effort to bring Sierra home.  I came to the LaMars’ searches knowing that it has only been six months since I faced the same emotions, fought with the same demons – hoping that I would be strong enough now to help others be strong.
 And now I remember. I remember that searches give you an acute sense of how many compassionate people exist – their hearts big enough to give love to people they have never met.
 It amazes me every time. Today, more than 650 volunteers of all ages to came to Morgan Hill to help search, flier and promote fundraising efforts. 70 search teams were dispatched, extending the search radius to 20 miles from Sierra’s home.  Teenagers helped make signs and tie bows. Restaurants, grocery stores donated large amounts of food and water. The most passionate volunteers found themselves in significant roles within the Search for Sierra – whether that be making phone calls or braving poison oak as searchers.
 At searches, everyone is working toward something much, much bigger than themselves. And despite the ugliness that surrounds Sierra’s disappearance, searches remind you that there remains so much good in the world.
 I am in awe of the community that is pulling together for Sierra. I hope this sends a loud, clear message to the abductors, sex offenders, human traffickers, perpetrators, kidnappers, murderers and rapists – that they will not and cannot take our loved ones without a fight. That, if you take one of ours, we are not staying silent.
 From what I have learned, Sierra is a fighter – always sticking up for her friends, speaking her mind, relentlessly showing her loved ones that she cares for them. So, I pray that her community continues to show up for her the way she would for all of them. Together, we can and will bring Sierra home – whatever it takes.
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Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 5

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Michael Le is the coolest guy in the room! But it wasn’t always so. When I met Michael he was an anxious, nervous, shy man-child wearing Vibram Five Finger Shoes. He had a deer in the headlights look because his sister Michelle had been missing for nearly three weeks, since May 27, 2011. On June 7, Michael and his family learned on the evening news that Michelle’s disappearance had been reclassified as a homicide.
 Michael’s paternal family were boat people: immigrants who fled Communist controlled Vietnam following the Vietnam War. His maternal family were recipients of the Orderly Departure Program, which allowed people wishing to leave Vietnam after the war to do so in a safe and orderly manner. Both families immigrated to the United States intact and settled in San Diego, CA where Michael’s parents met and married. Michael and Michelle lost their mother to cancer in 1999 and lost their father to indifference before they were even born.
 Son Le immigrated to the United States, the oldest of six children, when he was seventeen years old. Like generations of first born Asian men before him, Sonny received deferential treatment and was allowed to chart his own path. Unfocused, indifferent and caught between two cultures, Sonny became a nomad prone to ancient superstitions as he embraced 21stCentury electro-technology. He has a tendency to disappear for long periods of time and then reappear suddenly as if he had never been away. Sonny deferred his paternal responsibility to his younger sisters and allowed his children to become way stations in his nomadic wanderings. 
 In 2002 Michelle and Michael were living in the San Francisco Bay Area with relatives while Michelle pursued her dream of following in her mother’s footsteps and becoming a nurse. She was six months away from achieving that goal when she disappeared from a Kaiser Hospital in Hayward, CA last May. The extended family began commuting from San Diego to help Michael search for his sister.  
It was during one of these commutes up Interstate 5, which runs from North to South through California’s central valley, that I received the call from one of Michael’s uncles. As we had so many times before, Violet and I watched Michelle’s drama play out on the evening news. She kept encouraging me to help the family, but I deferred, reminding her that the family needed to call us, not the other way around. I believe that my wife was driven by similarity. She too, is a first generation Asian American whose family of nine traveled half ways across the world to settle in the land of golden hills and Champaign dreams.
Our first meeting occurred in a dingy motel room in Hayward. My first piece of advice to the family was to get a new room. Having stayed in hundreds of hotel and motel rooms I understand the importance of maintaining standards of comfort that did not exist at this location. Ultimately, I believe that we reflect our environment which is why it is better to surround ourselves with beauty rather than squalor.
I accompanied the family to the Hayward Police Department where Sonny, surrounded by family, stepped in front of waiting television cameras and read a statement rejecting law enforcement’s theory that Michelle was a homicide victim. He declared that the family still believed that she was alive and that they would search for her until she was found alive. Off camera Sonny looked me in the eye, and promised to move heaven and earth to find his daughter.  Two weeks later he traveled to Vietnam for an extended visit.
Michael and his cousin Krystine, who had just moved to the Bay Area from San Diego, assumed the burden of responsibility, a daunting task for kids in their early twenties. They recruited volunteers to distribute flyers. Although Michael was shy, and he spoke haltingly, he organized small fund raising events and tried to repair the family’s relationship with the police. Finally, when we reached the point where volunteer searches were feasible the family secured a Buddhist Temple that we could use as a search center on weekends. 
 Michael was a ubiquitous presence at the search center. At first he stayed in the background, a lanky lad gracefully shadowboxing or teaching the temple children how to dragon dance. Although he was surrounded by family, and his girlfriend Thuy was never far away and was always watching his back, Michael seemed alone, isolated, attempting to slay the demons in his head as he reconciled his frightening new reality.
 The search for Michelle was very different than the search for Sierra LaMar. We only had a weekend search center, not an entire donated school. Hayward was as indifferent to Michelle’s plight as Morgan Hill has been responsive to Sierra’s. Whereas we have registered thousands of volunteers from Morgan Hill, only a handful of people from Hayward offered assistance. Instead the response came primarily from volunteer SAR teams, the Asian community and those who admired the steely determination of Michael’s tight knit family.

Eventually a core group of volunteers gravitated toward Michael and went with him on ground searches. He became more comfortable and began hanging out in the mapping room, sitting in on briefings and debriefing sessions. Very quiet and never displaying the wild range of emotions typical of family members, including myself, in dire straits, Mikey began to fit into his new role of brother-protector.

As days turned into weeks and then months the family assumed more and more search related responsibilities. KlaasKids is very good at creating a search and rescue effort. We can work with and provide direction families and their communities. We can create relationships with law enforcement and work with the media, but we do not have the resources to devote our full time all the time to a single search. Therefore, we are constantly teaching and instructing. We seek out people to assume critical search related roles and basically hope to Hell that they are up to the task. Michelle couldn’t have been in better hands. Family passion never wavered and their commitment never waned. Unfortunately, on September 17, they learned what we had believed from the beginning. It was during the last scheduled search that Michelle’s remains were discovered. The Hayward Police had been correct all along. She had been the victim of a twisted mind and a vengeful heart.

Throughout, Michael never lost his public composure. The deer in the headlight gaze deferred to focused contemplation. He had developed a passion for search and rescue as he found his voice and his direction. He determined that Michelle’s death would have meaning and announced that he was forming his own SAR team. He organized meetings and team trainings. He has overcome his shy nature as he developed a quiet forcefulness that commands respect.

When Sierra LaMar disappeared I received another call from a desperate family. Again, I explained that certain milestones would have to be achieved before we could launch a major search and rescue effort. Again, my words clashed with a sense of urgency that wants to recover their child, not achieve “certain milestones.” When I called Michael and asked him if he would work with Sierra’s family on preliminary roadside searches he didn’t hesitate for a moment. I could hear the excitement in his voice. He met with them, he consoled them, he took them into the fields to search for their daughter and he led them.

 Now when I see Michael at the search center every day he is not shadow boxing and he seems to have slayed or at least reconciled his personal demons. He stands in front of hundreds of anxious volunteers and quietly commands their attention as he explains basic SAR procedures. He briefs and de-briefs search teams all day long. The shy, lanky man-child I met last year has evolved into a man of purpose and a leader of men who wears Vibram Five Finger shoes. Michael Le is and always will be the coolest guy in the room.
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Michelle Le Memorial Comments

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It was a summer of conflicting emotions and fast paced events.

When I first met the Le family they seemed isolated, desperate, and hopeless. Their precious Michelle had disappeared. The Hayward police said that she was a victim of murder, yet she was nowhere to be found. Ultimately, the family led by brother Michael, cousin Krystine, and uncle Eric rejected that premise and promised to spare no resource in rescuing or recovering Michelle.

What began in isolation quickly morphed into collaboration: first with KlaasKids and law enforcement; ultimately with the Buddhist Temple, Safeway, Websleuths, countless local vendors, media representatives and a dedicated cadre of volunteers. One might wonder what drove these diverse groups and individuals to reach out to this family that had gathered in solidarity from all over California and whom most of us had only just met.

Was it their refusal to go quietly into the night? Was it their willingness to unblinkingly look the devil in the eye? Or, was it the face of a seemingly lost soul smiling angelically from missing flyers on telephone poles, storefronts, and media reports. Perhaps it was all of these things, but maybe it was something even more. Maybe, just maybe we were nurtured by the grace of angels.

Events were scheduled and searches were organized. Michelle’s family found strength in fellowship and resolve in the solidarity of purpose. Timelines were established, evidence was analyzed, and strategies were devised. Search teams were dispatched, time and time again, with little regard for personal comfort as a larger purpose drove us all. We looked and looked and looked yet again, but try as we might the angelic face that smiled from billboards and late night dreams continued to elude our grasp. But it mattered not, for we had climbed onto the wings of angels as the bright light of informed choice overwhelmed the darkness of despair.

Searches continued and an arrest was made. The Hayward PD provided us with new information, fueling hope, but the truth continued to elude our grasp. And then, seemingly, another angelic intervention. On the last afternoon of the last scheduled search for Michelle, a dog with the namesake of another stolen child owned by the mother of that child, led us to a tragic conclusion. The search for Michelle was over. She can now be put to rest with the dignity and respect that all good people deserve.

It is now autumn, and soon the leaves will be falling from the trees.

Son, my heart breaks for you, because I understand the agony of losing a child to the forces of evil. However, I am here to tell you that time will give you the gift of being able to recover a life of purpose, meaning and love. Eric, your leadership and intelligence positioned you perfectly as an interim Incident Search Commander. I would follow you anywhere. Michael, when we met you were a boy, but today you view the world through the eyes of a man who has experienced more than his youth would suggest. And Krystine, you put a promising career on hold to hold onto a promise you made to your beloved cousin, and you can always take solace in the knowledge that it was a promise kept, though not as you would have wished.

The experiences that you have recently suffered have the ability to sharpen your focus and make you stronger, better people than you otherwise might have been, because now you are guided by the spirit of angels.  

You might ask how I know these things to be true. The answer is simple: the angle on my shoulder has told me that the angel we were seeking was guiding us all along.
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A Father’s Hope

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 KlaasKids has been helping the family of missing nursing student Michelle Le ever since her case was reclassified as a homicide. For the past two weeks we have offered advice, counsel, experience and our hearts as the family struggles to reconcile fear and confusion with a desire to recover their daughter. Today is the third day of the Michelle Le volunteer ground search, and despite my misgivings that anybody would show up early in the morning on Father’s Day, we have already dispatched more than 90-volunteers and it is not yet 9:00 am.

Instead of waiting helplessly for 26-year-old Michelle’s case to run its course, the Le family decided to become pro-active, and that’s when they called KlaasKids. KlaasKids Search & Rescue Director Brad Dennis flew into San Francisco from his home base in Pensacola, FL last Wednesday night to organize and facilitate the search effort. We instructed the family to secure a facility that could be, used as a staging area, to send a press release requesting search volunteers, and to keep an open line of communications with the jurisdictional law enforcement agency, the Hayward, CA Police Department.

Our design is to create an infrastructure that will endure beyond our departure.  To that end, we have been training family members as we dispatch volunteers. It is an enormous task, because there are so many moving parts including, but not restricted to: indoor staging locations with electricity, adequate parking, and plumbing; map acquisition and office supplies; projector for PowerPoint presentation; bottled water and food; administration and media relations; volunteers and directors.

So, here it is 10:00 am and we need to vacate this building within the next two hours. More than 100-searchers are in the field and all need to be de-briefed upon their return. Brad is flying back to Pensacola tomorrow morning and the search will be put on hold for at least a week. Where it goes from here is anybody’s guess, but have confidence that Michelle’s family will rise to the occasion.

Personally, I get great satisfaction from a job well done. There are many missing persons in the San Francisco Bay Area, but the only one people are talking about is Michelle Le. Coverage of her disappearance has dominated local television and radio. Approximately 450 volunteers have responded over the past three days and we have eliminated many high probability search areas. We have created a strategy for the future and the Le family understands the dynamics of our operation.

Will any of this bring Michelle home? I don’t really know. However, I do know that without KlaasKids involvement and our mentoring things would have gone quite differently for her family. Now, they have the tools to match their determination. They have the infrastructure to support their need. And, they have the structure to support their vision.
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