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Carl Thress | Thursday, September 08, 2011
I was working on a blog post to commemorate the 10th anniversary of 9/11 (actually a repost of something I wrote on 9/12/2001), but that is going to have to wait. When I logged onto Facebook tonight, I saw posts from two friends, sharing this newspaper report about the husband of one of my favorite high school teachers. My teacher apparently went missing on Sunday, and her husband was found dead today of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.
Things look bleak. I’m trying to hold out hope, but the dots are pretty well connected, and the picture I see horrifies me. A woman who loved teaching and helped encourage and inspire me in my writing is very likely dead at the hand of her husband. And frankly it pisses me off.
See, I know more than one person dear to me who could have just as easily ended up “missing” at the hand of someone who was supposed to love and cherish them.
Earlier this evening, I watched Telling Amy’s Story, a documentary (on PBS) about a woman who was murdered by her abusive husband. It was a powerful film and really hit home when I saw that report on Facebook tonight.
At this point, all I’m doing is speculating. My teacher is still missing and could well turn up perfectly fine. So for now, I’ll try to remain optimistic. I’ll sign off here, say a prayer, and hope tomorrow brings better news not only for my teacher but also for anyone else who finds themselves in similar straights.
Police confirmed the identity of a body found in Somerset County, Maryland, as that of Alice Davis, my high school English and creative writing teacher. After hearing the news tonight, I wrote a tribute. You can read it here: A Tribute to Alice Davis
Stepping down from my soapbox and depositing two pennies in the jar...