It would probably shock the average American to learn just how little we know about those who go missing in the wilder parts of this great nation of ours. A tangled knot of jurisdictions and separate government agencies means that there is no singular place to collect that data, no easily searched resource that tells us just how many of our fellow citizens vanish into the thick forests of the Appalachians, the cold, stony reaches of the Rocky Mountains, the dense mists of the Pacific Northwest. And when someone is swallowed up by these elemental places, our brains struggle with the sheer vastness of both the land itself and the overwhelming myriad of possibilities. Did they vanish on purpose, seeking some kind of freedom from our plugged-in, switched-on existence? Was it an accident? If so, what kind? After all, there are so many things that can kill you once you’ve left well-traveled paths. Something as simple as a broken shoelace can lead to a stumble which becomes a fall, hands scrabbling over slippery rock. Wild animals are not the lovable cartoons we grew up with, but genuine threats. Did the missing person meet up with one, finding themselves plunged into the primal nightmare of becoming a food source?

And of course, we can never discount that most dangerous of animals, our fellow man. Lord Byron wrote, “There is a pleasure in the pathless woods / There is a rapture on the lonely shore / There is society where none intrudes / By the deep Sea, and music in its roar.” But we know all too well that sometimes, society does indeed intrude, and we picture the lonely hiker, their excitement at seeing another human slowly curdling into terror as they realize that this is not a friend, not a fellow seeker of peace and tranquility.

This is why these stories have such a hold on us. So many questions, too many possible answers, and the reminder that the woods may be “dark and deep,” but what can happen to you inside them is often far from lovely.

—“Without a Trace,” by Bill Naracott, Outside, May 2017

 

 

LUMBER BARON’S BABY GIRL

VANISHES, SEARCH ON FOOT,

BY AIR UNDER WAY

BY THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

Tavistock, North Carolina

On Sunday, September 12, an afternoon constitutional in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina took a tragic turn when the three-year-old daughter of Mr. Mason McTavish of Tavistock, North Carolina, seemingly vanished into thin air. The family, consisting of Mr. McTavish, his wife, Mrs. Anna McTavish (née Miss Anna Ashby, formerly of Wichita, Kansas, daughter of the late banker Mr. George Ashby and his wife, Mrs. Amelia [Thorpe] Ashby), and their young daughter, Miss Ruby Anne McTavish, were accompanied by the family’s nanny with the intention of having a picnic in the mountains surrounding the McTavish home, Ashby House.

The child was discovered missing at approximately 2:30 P.M., and after a brief search by the family, the sheriff’s office was alerted. A thorough search is now under way, involving authorities from multiple jurisdictions as well as civilian volunteers, several of whom have offered to fly their personal aircrafts over the site where the child was last seen as efforts on the ground have been hampered by torrential rainfall overnight.

At this time, the Tavistock County Sheriff’s Department says they have “no reason to suspect criminal activity” involved with the child’s disappearance, but Mr. McTavish is among the wealthiest men in the state of North Carolina, and, as such, kidnapping has not been conclusively ruled out.

The Atlanta Constitution,

Monday Morning, September 13, 1943

 

 

Changeling (change-ling): Noun

Definition: 1) A child put in place of another child. In folklore, various magical beings (witches, fairies, trolls) are often responsible for the switch.

RELATED LINKS: BRIDGET CLEARY

1928 WINEVILLE CHICKEN COOP MURDERS

DISAPPEARANCE OF BOBBY DUNBAR

Internet commons entry for “changeling,” accessed October 4, 2023