You ask the questions…


You ask the questions… you chatter amongst yourselves about the blog in the café’s and the doctor’s offices and grocery stores of your little burg, moving your players about the chess boards of your titillated imaginations and say…

“Was it him? Was it her? Was it them? Who are the 4 in flannel? How could these things have happened here? Who was really involved and how could people have done such horrible things? How do two young girls go missing and nobody asks where they went? How does a crime investigation last less time than a L’Oreal color rinse? Were there any more people who suddenly went missing in 1966 without proper segue to justice… or proper burial… or public declaration? Where are the files? Where are the names? Where is the outrage? What really happened before that night on the Clyattville-Nankin  Road on October 9, 1966?”

But the question you should all be asking yourselves is not contained in those listed above. The real question you should be asking is…


Why has it taken 46 years for anyone to ask them at all?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: