Missing

Since my pseudonym is "Island Chica," it's obvious that I have an interest in de ilons. As I've written about before, my interest is specifically in the Caribbean, which is a region I generally adore, warts and all. On St. Martin, an island I've visited five times, an American woman by the name of Leta Lynn Cordes is missing. I don't know what I really hope to achieve by blogging about this, but I'm sad for her family that there hasn't been a resolution. She was walking alone at night to a casino, from a house that she OWNED (read: an experienced visitor), in an area of the island that I find particularly creepy.

Whenever I read about a missing woman, I always think about Kristin Modaferri, a classmate of mine who disappeared in San Francisco when she was 18. I knew Kristin in high school. Not particularly well, but we were on the debate team together and she was friends with one of my high school boyfriends. I remember her coming over to my house once to hang out. She was in San Fran for the summer, working in a coffee shop in a populated area. One day she left work and was never heard from again. Poof - gone. It's been over ten years. What hell.

I was almost attacked/abducted when I was seventeen. I've blogged about this before, so I feel a special connection to women who go missing. That could have been me. That REALLY could have been me. Luckily, my would-be attacker was hesitant, or maybe I was too fast, had too much of a lead on him as I ran out a parking garage.

The experience changed me. I don't go out by myself much at night anymore. Even to the grocery store. Is that sad? You damn well bet it is, but it's the way of our world. I hate that I can't go running on a trail by myself, but I really don't think it's smart to do so. So I don't.

It's amazing when you consider how many missing adults there are in the US. There are almost 51,000 missing adults. Can you imagine? Without a doubt, many of these people just don't want to be found. Others lead high risk lifestyles, whether they are homeless, drug addicts or prostitutes. Then, there are those who got in a car accident. Maybe drove into a lake or dense brush. Maybe fell while hiking. They might never be found.

I don't think Ms. Cordes falls into any of the above categories. Did she do the smartest thing by walking alone on a lonely road at night? No, but many more have done much, much worse and no harm befell them. What I find amazing is that there is no trace of her on that small island. St. Martin isn't miniscule, but it's pretty small. It just doesn't make sense that there's been no trace whatsoever.

We all remember Natalee Holloway. Oh, how I sympathized with that girl. God, the dumb things I did as an 18-year old. The guys I went home with, the shady places I frequented, the untrustworthy people I trusted. I was lucky. She was not. I've been to Aruba twice, and I still love the island. I just went last year, with girlfriends nontheless. All those talks of a boycott were dumb. We all know what happened to that girl, and it wasn't the fault of the Aruban people.

Anyway, I guess my point is that I just don't see a media frenzy about this case. Frankly, I'm surprised. Ms. Cordes isn't young (late 40s if memory serves), but she's an attractive California blonde. The type that makes headlines, I would think. I hope the case doesn't get brushed under the carpet. I hope she's found. I hope one more island paradise that I love isn't tarnished by the acts of one criminal.

I hope they find her.