The Missing Girl

In rural Radford, Tennessee, in the 1950s, a white family is killed in an automobile accident. Upon hearing the news of her parents’ and grandfather’s deaths, Jessa runs away with her dog, creating problems for her town, especially for the sheriff, her parents’ friends, and the Black community that falls under suspicion. Racial distrust shapes the town’s response to Jessa’s disappearance, and as the weeks stretch out, the weather poses increasing challenges for Jessa as she shelters in a hollow tree while attempting to provide for herself and her dog, Cassie. Help appears from an unexpected source as a family mystery is revealed.

The Missing Girl and the second book, Jessa is Back, are placed right in the midst of “the good old days” and serve as a reminder of the unabashed nature and danger of white supremacy in the 1950s. These provide us an opportunity to examine the parallels in events unfolding today.

I never considered writing as a career choice when I was growing up in Tennessee – our home was full of books, pictures, poetry and music, and I was regularly read to (my favorite was Winnie the Pooh).  Early on, I was swept away by the natural world and knew I wanted to be a biologist.  I so loved the trees and flowers and all the little creatures!  My husband David and I met at a marine lab, and our similar interests led us to doctorate and subsequent postdoctoral training that prepared us for research and teaching positions in the Pacific Northwest. 

The South and the Pacific Northwest are my two realms.  In the Pacific Northwest, we live a nearly self-sufficient life with our animals and plantings in a wild canyon of the Snake River.  But living in the Northwest gave me the time and clarity to look back into the world of my childhood.  Much of what I recall is gone forever, but current events forced me to confront parallels with the white supremacy of the 1950s and convinced me that I had to write.  It began as a daydream story that showed me that plot – that elusive element – flowed naturally, drawn along by the characters who crowded in to people my story.  These stories are wholly fiction, and at the same time, woven from my life’s experiences and love of the South and its people.