by Ed Smart
There were so many times we wanted to believe that Elizabeth was near, and every one of those leads ended with a roadblock. The thought that we would have to go through this emotional roller coaster yet again was becoming too hard to bear. Every time we heard about human bones that were found in the desert, or sacrificial cultists from all over the world, or body parts in the foothills, or some psychic with a vision of where Elizabeth was, we held our breath, hoping it would not be our daughter. It became all-consuming and made it impossible to move forward. We were stuck between living and dying.
We faced numerous challenges when Elizabeth was kidnapped. One of our biggest obstacles was that we simply did not know how to deal with the investigation and the investigators. We weren't faced merely with the challenge of losing our daughter. We were challenged daily by the media, the police department, the investigation, and the abundance of theories. Ricci did it. The father was involved. Elizabeth was a runaway. None of it was right, none of it helped find Elizabeth. Any one of those theories could have beaten us down, but they didn't. We are not pointing fingers at anyone. Everyone involved in the case and the investigation had a job to do. To this day, there are skeptics questioning what really happened. Those are the same people who question the notion of faith and the power of prayer, which is what we are really trying to get to. It would be a mistake for us to write a book that paints a picture that Elizabeth magically came home without any challenges, trials, or tribulations. We faced them on a daily basis. We supported every effort that was being made to bring our daughter home.
We didn't release Brian David Mitchell's sketch for several months. That turned out to be a blessing. When Mary Katherine stepped forward with the name, it was coincidentally around the same time Brian David Mitchell and Wanda Barzee had fled Salt Lake City for San Diego. If the sketch had come out in October, they might not have ever returned to Salt Lake. Was it divine intervention? We'd like to think so. We believe that this was in the Lord's hands.
Chapter 17
NOVEMBER 3, 2002
ELIZABETH'S FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY
THERE WAS NO WAY to truly celebrate Elizabeth's birthday with her missing. The only way we could cope with her absence was to try and observe her birthday in a way we knew she would have loved. We took the children on a trip to Disneyland, one of Elizabeth's favorite places. We were supposed to be in California to do Larry King's show anyway, so we decided to make it a family trip. Normally the Magic Kingdom would have been just what we needed; without Elizabeth it was a bit somber, though we did manage to have some fun. We went on every ride that Elizabeth would have loved. She loved all roller coasters. If the ride was fast and twirled, she loved it. People there stopped us to say hello, tell us that they were praying for Elizabeth, and to keep the faith. We also took the children to Knott's Berry Farm. We tried to have a fun-filled few days before we had to face the cameras and head back to Utah.
The world is filled with good people. Wherever we went, people reached out to us. They wanted to let us know we were not alone. We were accessible, because we're just regular people. Once, on a trip to St. Louis, a woman started up a conversation with Lois. For some reason, she asked where we were from. Lois told her we were from Salt Lake City. The woman talked about her sister who lived in a town in Utah. She proceeded to say that her brother, who lived with her, was getting a divorce and she felt so bad because she never got to see her sister's kids and that she didn't have any children of her own. The woman suddenly turned to Lois and said, “I don't even know why I am telling you all of this. I don't even know you.”
“Oh, you might. I am the mother of Elizabeth Smart.”
She said, “I thought you looked familiar.”
The woman reached out and hugged Lois as tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt terrible for unloading her story. “After everything you've been through, my troubles seem so insignificant.”
But her troubles were not insignificant. They were clearly weighing this woman down. Someone's molehill is another person's mountain. Elizabeth's disappearance gave everyone a little perspective on life. No problem feels insurmountable to us these days. We know without question that we can get through anything.
Thanksgiving was especially hard. We went to Lois's Mom's, and there were two empty seats that year—Lois's dad's and Elizabeth's. We didn't physically set two empty places at the table, but the absence was felt nonetheless. Thanksgiving is a time for reflection and giving thanks for all of the goodness we have in life. Even though we had been struggling through the toughest six months of our lives, we still had much to be thankful for. We had a missing child, and yet we still felt blessed. We were thankful for each other and thankful for our families. We had so many people helping us and reaching out to us. People were supporting us from all around the world. It was life-sustaining. How could we not be thankful? When we talked to the children about what was in their prayers this holiday season, one of them said they were praying for warm weather so Elizabeth wouldn't be cold. The children never let Elizabeth out of their thoughts or prayers, especially as the holidays approached. Holidays are meant for families. The holiday season has always represented a time of great joy in our family. This year, the holidays were not joyous in the same way they had been in the past. There was a gaping hole in our family, and an even bigger hole in our hearts. We tried to put on a smile.
At the beginning of the holiday season, Elizabeth and Mary Katherine would always participate in the annual harp concert that takes place in November. This year it was held at Utah's Capitol Rotunda. It was dedicated to missing children, with a special tribute to Elizabeth: One hundred harpists, age five and up, tied light blue ribbons on their harps in her honor. Mary Katherine had always been a part of this recital, and this year it was especially poignant because she played Elizabeth's harp. In a way, it felt as if Elizabeth were there with her. At the end of the concert, a medley of songs was played in sync with a montage of photographs of Elizabeth spending time with her family, riding horses, and playing the harp. We were both fighting back tears and feeling the loss more than ever. The end of the concert was perfectly choreographed, with video footage of Elizabeth bowing along with the hundred harpists in the room. Elizabeth's teacher, ShruDeLi Ownbey, her friends, and other harpists from all over Salt Lake had organized this concert to honor her. One of the pieces was a spiritual medley that included selections, played by Elizabeth's peers, called “Motherless Child” and “Wayfaring Stranger.” It was very emotional. In our minds, some pieces performed that night belong to Elizabeth. They were signature pieces that Elizabeth often played. Over the nine months Elizabeth was missing, whenever we would hear harpists play those pieces, it was unbearable. Tears flowed down every cheek in the room. We were sobbing throughout the entire concert. It was a bittersweet moment—she should have been there. In a sense, she was, yet she wasn't. The ensemble was playing for everyone in the room, but we felt a special connection, a humbling experience, that those harpists had come together and were playing for us—and Elizabeth, our missing angel. Oh, how much we wished she were there.
Just before Christmas, we flew to New York for a taping of The John Walsh Show. John was doing a show that featured the parents of missing children. After the show, Ed took John aside and asked if he could talk to him in confidence. John assured him that he could. Lois and Chris Thomas stood in the hallway with Ed and John as Ed explained that Mary Katherine had come up with a name of the man she believed took Elizabeth. He said that we had a composite sketch but the police were hesitant to make it public. John expressed his concern over the reasons the police had given us for not circulating it. His suggestion was to just come out with it. John Walsh is not the kind of man who holds anything back, and he offered to do another show featuring the new lead information. He could not have been more supportive, though his advice was the exact opposite of that the police had been giving us. When we left, we felt very positive about sharing the news with John. He assured us that he would do the right thing
with the information. We headed back to Salt Lake to get ready for Christmas.
Christmas was the hardest holiday. Elizabeth was supposed to be home by Christmas. Somehow we had truly believed our nightmare would be over by then. We couldn't get caught up in the usual Christmas spirit. It felt like it had to be a quiet Christmas. That was hard for our younger children to understand, but the older children understood what was going on. Going to the department stores and selecting games and toys didn't feel right. It wasn't a priority for any of us. In the past, Christmas in our home had been about fun, gifts, and festivity. This year, we got back to the true meaning and spirit of the holiday—the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. As a way of honoring their missing sister, each of the children wrote a short note to her as a Christmas wish. Here's what they said:
Dear Elizabeth:
I miss you so much. I can't express how horrible I feel about this. This experience has changed my life forever but I can't even begin to imagine how much it has changed your life. You mean everything to me. You were the perfect sister always trying to do good for everyone. I always imagined you growing up to be this very accomplished person who had gone to the best music school and raised a wonderful family. You were definitely on your way to fulfilling your dreams by the way you always had good grades and tried your best in everything. I just want you to wake me up one morning to go help catch horses on the ranch and for this to all be in the past.
Love,
Charles
Dear Elizabeth:
I wish with all my might that you were here. You are the greatest sister in the world. I wish you were at Disneyland and Knottsberry Farm. You are the best at basketball, snowmobiling, and so fun to ski with. I love you Elizabeth.
Love,
Andrew
Dear Elizabeth:
I miss you so much. I wish you were here to celebrate your birthday with us. Elizabeth, you're the best sister I could ever have in the whole world. I love you so much. I don't want you to get hurt at all. Elizabeth, I miss you playing games with me, the harp, reading to me, and sleeping with me.
Love,
Mary Katherine
Dear Elizabeth:
I miss you so much. I wish you were back home with us. I miss hearing you play the harp and biking to grandmas. I love you so much.
Love,
Edward
I love you Elizabeth . . .
William
The Festival of Trees is a local Christmas event that raises money for the Primary Children's Hospital, a hospital that provides services for people who can't afford them. Every year people donate beautifully decorated trees to the hospital, which the hospital in turn sells to raise money. Some of Elizabeth's close friends and their mothers asked us if they could donate a tree in her honor, and we were very moved by the gesture. These friends decorated a beautiful tree with white angels that each girl had embroidered her own name on, silver harps, and blue ribbons. They decorated a small replica of Elizabeth's tree and brought it to our home. We used that tree as our only Christmas tree that year. We were so appreciative of their sincere thoughtfulness. Some of Elizabeth's harp friends also donated a tree. We went to tour the Festival of Trees and were moved by yet a third tree in Elizabeth's honor donated anonymously. We cried as we walked through the South Town Expo in Sandy. People all around knew who we were and were so kind with words of love and support. We truly felt the Christmas spirit of goodwill toward men. Anonymous friends had made sure that each of our children were remembered by dropping several gifts off on Christmas Eve for their surprise and delight on Christmas morning.
Instead of gifts for Christmas, we decided to give each of the children Christmas Boxes. The idea came from a story Lois read when she was a child. It was the story of an empty box. When the child in the story opens the box, he wonders why it is empty. He is told that the box isn't empty. It is filled with a gift he can't see or taste but he can feel—it is love. We filled five boxes for each child with items we thought were meaningful. Photos of each child as a baby, of them growing up, of the entire family, and photos of Elizabeth. We also enclosed a note in each box telling our children how much we loved them. As hard as it was for the children to not celebrate Christmas as we always had in the past, they loved receiving their boxes. Edward, our eight-year-old, even after receiving other holiday gifts, came to us on the night of Christmas and said that his box of love was his favorite gift.
Here's the letter that went to each of our children in their Christmas Boxes of Love:
Dear Children:
2002 has been a year which we could never have anticipated. Trials of heartache, growth and a test of our faith pushed us beyond anything we have experienced in this life. Life will never be the same. We have learned how precious life is and how important each of you are in our lives. The most precious gift in life is represented in this box. It is not something that you can see, smell, or eat. It will not wear out or decay with time. It will not be forgotten and is not tangible (physical). It has been shared with us by our Heavenly Father and His son our brother Jesus Christ. That gift is LOVE. He demonstrated and shared this time and time again by:
1. His willingness to serve each of us in fulfilling our Heavenly Father's Plan
2. His willingness to atone for our sins
3. His willingness to be an example of righteousness showing us the path, which will lead us into eternity where we can be united as a family.
Each of you, Charles, Elizabeth, Andrew, Mary Katherine, Edward and William, have been sent and entrusted to us. How different our lives would have been without you. There isn't anything in this life more precious.
As we have cried, grieved inside and pleaded for Elizabeth's return, we have remembered those differences that make us each individuals and made Elizabeth what she is. It pains us to have her gone and we look forward to being together once again.
As we love each of you as parents our Heavenly Father loves us more than we can comprehend. We have learned that the way we live makes the difference of whether we will be together eternally. We hope this Christmas will always be remembered not only as one that Elizabeth is missing from, but one that so much love and support has been shown to us. Please know that you are most important in our lives and that in the eternal perspective nothing can be more important than love.
Love,
Mom and Dad
Christmas, 2002
For Christmas we normally travel to Palm Springs, where Ed's family has a condo. We thought it would be a good idea to stick to tradition for the children, so we left the day after Christmas. It is a time when we swim, hike, and horseback ride. We do an annual hike up one of the local mountains, which has turned into a contest between the children to see who can get up the trail first. It's a rough trail. It's rocky, slippery, and usually hot. Elizabeth was always the one leading the pack. One of Elizabeth's best friends, who also has a home in Palm Springs, decided to come on the hike with us. Her name is also Elizabeth—they are a month apart in age. We were so happy to have this Elizabeth with us, but it was a bittersweet reminder of what was really missing.
Our Elizabeth has a tight circle of friends. It was very hard to lose the presence of those girls in our lives. They lost a friend as we lost a daughter and sister. They came around from time to time to see how we were doing, to bring us cookies, and notes and cards of encouragement.
Just before the end of the year, John Walsh appeared on Larry King and announced, unbeknownst to us, that there had been a break in the Elizabeth Smart case. Walsh went public with the news of Immanuel. At the time, we were shocked that he had shared this information so quickly and without our knowing that he planned to do so. In hindsight, it was a blessing. It set us on the course that would ultimately bring Elizabeth home.
Chapter 18
IN MID-AUGUST, we received our first ransom letter. It was postmarked from Charlotte, South Carolina. The letter stated, “I have your daughter. Don't try to contact anyone. Don't try to trace this.
You won't be able to find me. I'll contact you again in the future.” It seemed so far-fetched, but we handed the letter over to the police.
From mid-October until November 4, the day after Elizabeth's fifteenth birthday, the same man claiming to be Elizabeth's kidnapper emerged again, this time on the Internet, asking for a $3 million ransom for Elizabeth's safe return. He was using the screen name of “elizabethsmartkidnapper.” The man said either he got the money or he would harm Elizabeth. We had been the recipients of many hoax letters, but we always checked them out just to be certain they were not real. News of someone in an online chat room claiming to be Elizabeth's kidnapper surfaced. The Internet was an ugly place to read about our daughter. There were people with nothing better to do than talk about us: our family—that we were hiding something. It was brutal. It made us so sick to hear what some people were thinking about us, our case, and our daughter. While the majority of the communications we received from around the world were filled with loving thoughts, prayers, and hopes for the safe return of Elizabeth, one bad letter would set us back for days. If there wasn't a return address on the letter or card, we learned, it was usually not a favorable letter and we didn't open it.