Friends and loved ones still grieve, wonder, rage: Where is Amy? ("Due to high winds please return carts to corral in parking lot," pleads a sign outside the Safeway.) Sam Lightner, the climber whom Steve drove to Dubois to meet on July 24, corroborated Steve's account of his whereabouts that day; still, no third party as yet has provided firm independent corroboration of the two climbers' account. Gravel pings the Toyota’s undercarriage, and the tires crunch and skid among the dry ruts. But truth be told, that's a transmutation Lander won't have to worry about any time soon. Passing motorists were stopped and questioned. A rutted side road used by firewood cutters heads off into the trees toward Freak Mountain. Who do they think they are?”, “I see Steve driving around town, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the music on the radio. The car turned out to be Carpenter’s red Fiat. Through the Maverick Bar where the town’s old guard gathers. Two or three dozen psychics have offered their services. Jo Anne Wroe, 12 years younger than her husband, quiet-voiced, is a dark-haired version of her three tow-headed daughters. Bechtel stammers that he’ll take the polygraph test tomorrow, given a lawyer’s go-ahead. No Amy. Dean Chingman, a young Indian from Ethete, on the Wind River Reservation, went missing in early November. They might shape themselves into massive anvils and shoot lightning down to the high plains. But Bechtel is going nowhere. “As much as Eaton makes an attractive suspect, I don’t think we’re ever going to learn anything from him,” he wrote in an email to Runner’s World. We were back exactly where we started.”. Maybe her marriage wasn’t as hunky-dory as it seemed…”, “Maybe she just flipped out, and one day 10 years from now she’ll come to herself, like that Tacoma schoolteacher who disappeared, and now it turns out she’s been living all this time up in Alaska…”, “Those mountains are bigger than you or I could ever imagine. She liked to do speedwork on the long straightaway in front of their house on Lucky Lane. But it’s also day four when Todd Skinner, scouring a remote canyon, comes upon footprints in a cave by a creek. He was born May 6, 1945, in Emporia, to William and Elizabeth (Brown) Bechtel. More thoughts on the relationship between climbing and power. Steve Bechtel says he returned from his rendezvous with Sam Lightner about 4:30 that afternoon to find the house empty. The runners would puff up a series of switchbacks not far out of town and then jump into Frye Lake and finish up with a picnic. A cheery wave. Armies of volunteers pitch their tents. He vows that the Amy Wroe Bechtel Recovery Headquarters will remain in full operation, even if he’s the only volunteer. Amy got the running bug in sixth grade. These are friends of the Bechtels who turned out instantly on the night of the disappearance; who left school, abandoned jobs, and aborted climbing expeditions to rush to Lander and search the woods. In 1996, she ran the Boston Marathon in 3:08:33. Steve has a younger brother, Jeff, and an older sister, Leslie. A large photograph of Amy in kindergarten, part of the hallway display that Jo Anne calls her "rogues' gallery," shows a canny, appraising child of five, looking out from under a shock of white-blond hair. “Those people don’t know me, they don’t know Amy, so it’s just gossip,” he goes on. It emerges that when Amy lived in Laramie, she was dogged by a stalker of sorts, a middle-aged man who harassed her as she waitressed at a campus coffeehouse. He's Lander born and bred, with such an engaging lack of bluster or antagonism that it's easy to overlook the fact that he keeps his cards very close to the vest. “Real small,” he repeats softly. A woman and two children disappeared in 1980, and her blood-spattered car was found 30 miles outside of town; the bodies were never found. Cruel hoaxes. The streets were suddenly dense with For Sale signs. Dee from MPCN A few weeks before the race, Amy's parents and siblings met with the FBI and the Fremont County sheriff's office and poured out their anxiety. He calls her parents, his parents, Amy’s sister Jenny. He usually wears a ball cap. It’s people in Berkeley or Brooklyn who vanish. She gave a quick wave goodbye. The rest of the team spent two months on the Tower, waiting out storms in hanging tents or on narrow ledges, before completing an ascent in which they relied on no climbing aids—only their hands, their feet, and safety ropes. The car was unlocked. Both sides mistrust and denigrate the other’s search efforts. Bechtel exhorts the runners to keep pushing, keep searching, keep distributing posters and flyers. No, we did not have an abusive relationship. At 9, Steve calls Amy’s parents in northern Wyoming. It has to. He is often out of town, giving motivational speeches to various organizations, corporate and noncorporate. Thousands of man-hours have been expended on generating publicity and following up on the hundreds of tips that have come in. Whisler and Skinner come home from the movie. Scores of rescuers, fit and mountain-wise, live within a rifle shot of city hall. After a bit, he spoke with Todd Skinner and Amy Whisler next door, but they hadn't seen Amy since midday. A bustling half-hour as Steve assembled his climbing gear, then headed out to drive the 70-odd miles to the mountains around Dubois. Amy continued her training after she and Steve moved from Laramie to Lander in January of ’96. And always, the piney mountains just outside town have seemed some kind of antidote to human poisons and sorrows. There’s less bumping into one another that way, less hysteria. Someone in northern California wanted a nanny. The FBI's National Crime Information Center listed approximately 35,000 adults missing at the end of 1997. Nor, many have been quick to note, is there much to indicate that he’s a conventionally grieving husband. "This sounds strange, but we hope that she's been abducted," he says. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io. Scores of rescuers—fit and mountain-wise—live within rifle shot of city hall, and Amy's disappearance prompted an all-out response. Despite extensive investigative work and media portrayals, her case remains unsolved as of 2019. Horses joined the hunt, and then the cadaver dogs and the national guard. There’s evidence of a campfire. But people said it was impossible for her to become the runner that she is. It is the end of August, then early September. “Amy Wroe Bechtel Recovery Headquarters.”. That it was midafternoon. Amy drove her white Toyota Tercel station wagon to the Wind River Fitness Center, another of her part-time employers, and taught an hour-and-a-half kids' class in weight training. No, I am not going to take a polygraph test, because the test is flawed and a waste. NOLS stayed and prospered. Still, Lander retains a sense of itself as a friendly, essentially innocent sort of place. I think her thinking will change, has changed.". “It’s enough so that, given the remote chance that there’s more than one abductor, one might turn against the other to collect the reward. Its most famous resident was an old buckaroo, Stub Farlow, whose image atop a sunfishing bronc adorns Wyoming's license plates. A search plane buzzed overhead. It was a Rolls-Royce of an operation—nothing haphazard or skimpy about it—and it yielded not a flicker of Amy Wroe Bechtel. Which way would she go? “She had these skinny legs. Todd Skinner and Amy Whisler headed south to their winter climbing headquarters in Texas. We may earn commission if you buy from a link. No solid evidence that she hadn’t been as happy as any young woman might reasonably hope when she drove into the mountains that afternoon. No drug use. The authorities quickly became interested in Steve and in a small number of men who had exhibited particular interest in Amy or her running career, but no one has emerged as anything approaching a clear suspect. Lately, Amy’s been running on the trails across the river from the Sinks Canyon campground. Amy swings by number 9 Lucky Lane and switches into her running gear: Adidas trail shoes, a yellow tank top, black shorts. “I’d watch Amy and Steve work out in the gym together, and they never touched or kissed like other couples.”, “Those climber boys, they’re all tight with the sheriff until he starts asking hard questions, then they start crying about polygraph tests and how rough they’re getting handled. If there is a moral to their adventures—and you hear it from the Lucky Lane climbers again and again—it is that tenacity buys victory, that you can hang for a long damn time four miles above sea level and still make the top, that hopelessness, failure of will, can be lethal. That she is being kept by someone infatuated, obsessed with her. Missing persons awareness & research page. Dots to be connected. “I knew by then never to underestimate Amy,” he says. But only for one semester; next fall he’d have to give the scholarship back to a faster woman. publicity—came and went. In February 1994, a local teenager was shot five times in the head and torso in the Sinks Canyon parking lot by a drug dealer who thought the victim was a police informer. Amy was popular, though not chummy, with members and co-workers. I've got about a million things to do, and it's my only day off." And like Amy, he progressed through sheer doggedness. "No prisoners / No Mercy!" "We were stuck at the base of the mountain, walking in place.". "Steve doesn't have the natural build of a climber," says Mike Lilygren, who was his college roommate. “A guy from Texas. Destination Unknown. During the day, traffic is sporadic but not infrequent. This isn’t like her. "It's not within me to be angry at someone for having feelings or thoughts and for dealing with them by placing them on a piece of paper," Casey Wroe-Lee told the Star-Tribune. But he won’t take a lie-detector test. Amy’s family and law-enforcement officials again press Bechtel to take the polygraph test; again Bechtel refuses. “My fondest hope right now is that Amy left me,” Bechtel says, turning from the window. He’s reaching in to get it just as Amy runs up. Round, scholarly glasses, a scatter of pimples and a fuzzy brush cut lend him a soft, boyish air. A 25-year-old personal trainer and former star distance runner at the University of Wyoming, Amy had apparently gone to the mountains to map a course for an upcoming 10K hill race near her home in west central Wyoming. The Bechtel case was on the docket of a grand jury, convened in Casper in late November. The first cold touch. Eight years ago Sunday, she was last seen in Lander, the central Wyoming town where she had moved with Steven Bechtel, her husband of 13 months, to join a community of ardent high- country athletes. The Forbes 400 Richest Americans list has been published annually since 1982. Her third novel will be titled My Russian. They see no runner, but as they pass the Burnt Gulch cutoff, Wendy turns to her guests in the backseat. Positive mental attitude. Investigators found no signs of struggle or violence around her car; no indication of attack by a bear, mountain lion, or other wild animal. His initial response was that he would take it, but the next day he had a lawyer, Kent Spence [son of famed defense attorney Gerry Spence], and he refused the test.”. Not far out of Fort Washakie, there is a little cemetery on a hillside where the Shoshone say Sacagawea, the heroic guide and interpreter for the Lewis and Clark expedition, is buried. No note. When asked about his anger at the cops, at Nels, he said, "I don't really have the energy to get pissed-off at anyone these days.". Biography Early life. Her wallet was not in the car. She’s still up there, you can bet on it…”, “Amy’s running up there and a car’s coming, the driver drunk probably, and hits her. But if history is any guide, the majority will return on their own or will otherwise be accounted for. and Steve Bechtel, Knowland pushed for a stadium for the fledgling Oakland Raiders, a ragtag football team playing its home games at a junior college field near the decaying downtown center. I’d give the money gladly and never ask anything more.”. And so her life, and the lives of those who care most about her, are suspended. But the impulse fades, and she drives on to the end of the canyon. "Let's say someone says, 'Check out a yellow mobile home off the highway ten miles from Lander,'" Steve says. Swenson’s cousin, it turns out, owns the fitness center where Amy worked—works—part-time. Very quickly, everyone seemed to have an opinion: the skinny, insistent drunk at the Gannett Grill who said the husband did it; the hacker on the 12th hole who was sure that someone with the wiles of a Ted Bundy had taken her away; the customer at a restaurant who said Amy was at the bottom of a nearby lake with a chain around her neck; the store owner who wondered if "maybe she just ran away." Thundershowers were forecast for the afternoon, but the morning sky was cloudless. At times, the in-without-knocking, post-collegiate communalism wore against Amy's need for privacy and order, according to Jo Anne Wroe, her mother. Early storms arrived, left. Bechtel’s voice and manner betray neither false hope nor desperation. Primarily Addicts and mentally ill or others who don't get appropriate attention. If she had been attacked by a mountain lion or a bear, searchers should have found disheveled underbrush, scraps of clothing, blood, remains. She does not age. Go figure. We hear from our audience every day about how much they love our long-form journalism. The vast majority of violent crimes against women are committed by a friend, an acquaintance, or a relative of the victim. Yet, in the months since Amy disappeared, Steve Bechtel has spearheaded one of the most exhaustive recovery efforts ever waged on behalf of a missing person. The keys were under Amy's to-do list on the passenger seat, next to her $120 sunglasses. That's where you could go to relax, to breathe in deep, to listen to your best self. They follow the cone of headlights on the highway and then the winding dirt road up the switchbacks in the darkness. Dee from MPCN There are no yellow ribbons anywhere on the Wind River Reservation, which begins a few miles north of Lander. King is 41 years old, squarely and solidly built, with a spiky haircut that looks like something his 13-year-old daughter urged on him in the interest of with-it-ness. He has since remarried; after seven years, a missing person is legally considered dead. Why were they so focused on Steve? Todd Skinner and Steve blamed the cops. They drove downtown, turned right at the Safeway, and followed what's known locally as the Loop Road, a 30-mile affair through the Shoshone National Forest. When they asked him if anything was wrong, Steve, who later said that he was starting to worry at this point, replied with a casual white lie: "No.". Those sickos hole up there in the canyons…”, “Hell, it’s just some punk, some guy breaking into cars in the campgrounds, and he comes on Amy’s car up there at the gulch with her wallet inside. It was both a "wallet toss" search—covering the distance that someone could discard a wallet—and a "critical separation" search, in which volunteers, depending on the terrain, maintain only enough distance between themselves so as not to miss anything: The "critical separation" might be ten yards on a sandy plain, ten inches in a rainforest. But no such clinging strained their relationship. No pets. She jumps back into the car, turns left off Lucky Lane and follows the highway through downtown Lander. Jim made a little joke: "She looks like she's running away from something.". Steve confronted Carpenter and shot Ellen. “I just know it had to be Amy,” Gibson says. A runner with blond hair and skinny legs heading toward Burnt Gulch near Frye Lake. Quitting is not an option. There’s no time to read them, but he figures the FBI is trying to railroad him. In mid-November, Skinner was asked about "Amy as the summit," about never giving up. It is a punishing time. “We know you were responsible for your wife’s disappearance. EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the 12th and final installment in our year-long examination of the adventures of Knox County farmer Harvey Devoe, who kept a diary for the year 1861, which has been annotated and published by historian Alan Borer and is available through online retailers. The sheriff’s deputy arrives at 10:45. Those were the mantras at Lucky Lane, even during the best of times. A few agents leave the room. More than 30 psychics contact Bechtel. THE THEORIES SWIRL LIKE AN ICY WIND THROUGH LANDER. Amy speeds up slightly, watching the odometer hit 6.2 miles near the middle of the lakeshore. "OK..." His voice quavered. “There’s this overwhelming sense of void and chaos about this affair, but Steve keeps pushing against it,” reflects Ed Sherline. If by some miracle—or some nightmare—Amy were still alive up there, the snow would only add to her misery. We leave unholy messes wherever we go, despite our best intentions. No volunteers working leads, no climbers sleeping on the floor, no reporters phoning. Beneath Lander's just-folks exterior is a town that, like most others, has not been able to fence itself off from trouble. Up along Frye Lake, where the cutoffs and logging roads branch out. Only her white Toyota station wagon parked on a turnout high on the rugged road through the wilderness. Steve Bechtel, however, is pessimistic. "We never really started climbing anyway," he added. Brush, who earned his bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering in 1942, established the endowed Harvey F. Brush Chair in the College of Engineering in 1989 to support a faculty member focused on interdisciplinary research and education. Captain Larry Makeshine, at tribal police headquarters in Fort Washakie, heard about Amy's disappearance soon after it happened, but Fremont County authorities never contacted his office directly. For probable cause they cite an unnamed witness who claims to have seen a pickup truck similar to Steve Bechtel’s racing through a Loop Road campground on the day of the disappearance, with a distraught blond woman in the passenger seat. He lives in the same house in Lander he was moving into with Amy the day she disappeared. “I’m working three part-time jobs, but it’s not enough. For a few hours the passions, enmities, and suspicions—the sheer helpless rage at Amy’s having vanished without a trace—seem to subside. The talk turns to the case of Kari Swenson, the Montana biathlete who went for a run one day in the ’80s and was kidnapped by renegade mountain men for “breeding” purposes. 5.6K likes. "That's unusual," Wendy recalls saying as they drove by. Amy liked her half-time job, even though it entailed a good deal of desk work. Check out our entire suite of free newsletters here. Norbert John Bechtel, 75, died November 3, 2020, at Hutchinson Regional Medical Center. She’s not by any chance there with you, is she? There was Steve, greeting friends, being hugged. In mid-October, the FBI and the local investigators, having dropped their demand that Steve Bechtel submit to a polygraph test, asked him to come in for another general interview, but on the advice of Kent Spence, his attorney, he declined. Or she is wandering in an amnesiac state but will someday recall her name and her history and reclaim them in triumph after a strange, long time in which she was lost to her searchers and to herself. A fancy new anesthetic gets the same buoyant description as the details of sawing through a limb. They said they didn't want to cause a stir, to have the families' choppy sorrows upstage an event that should focus exclusively on Amy. Soon after, Nels restated—for a reporter from the Casper Star-Tribune and on a Wyoming public radio news program—his fervent wish that Steve would take a polygraph test. Two days earlier, Amy had been certified as a trainer. Back to Lucky Lane, complain to Skinner and Whisler, what the hell’s the deal? By midafternoon, thermometers would crawl toward ninety. Although brew pubs and espresso cafés are gradually easing out the tack shops and cowboy bars, there are still a half-dozen places along Main Street where hunters can get their elk butchered in the fall. A kid found a bottle in the river near Main Street in Lander. Regrouped. She thinks that people are generally good. In fact, Amy's original plan for July 24 was to drive three hours north to her parents' home in Powell, Wyoming, to pick up furniture that her father, Duane, had been refinishing for the young couple. Over the espresso counter at the Sweetwater Grill, along the deli line at the Breadboard sub shop. Besides, an unofficial team of 10 of Lander’s best climbers is already searching. It has no downhill ski area and no prospect of one. Her to-do list was long: run & lift, recycling, call phone co., electric, gas, insurance, get photo mounted or matted, flyers for race, get more boxes, mow lawn, call Ed, close road?, have Karn do drawing. This is Burnt Gulch, the place where Skinner and Whisler found Amy's Tercel. Lander is one of those pleasant, historically undistinguished western towns that borrows most of its reputation from what it is near and what it is not. Clouds big as counties would bunch up to the northeast, where the Owl Creek Mountains meet the Bighorns, and just west, in the Wind River Range, Lander's backyard. What happened instead was something strange and nightmarish, the kind of nightmare that begins with innocuous moments that become harrowing only in hindsight. Steve, in shorts, bareheaded, raised his hands and quieted the crowd. The editorial headline: "Have Big-City Problems Invaded Our Secure Little Mountain Town?". The group has mailed out or directed "satellite" volunteers to mail out more than 80,000 flyers. And if he doesn’t find Amy, then the methods he’s developed will help some other family find their lost girl.”. He was convicted of the 1988 rape and murder of an eighteen-year-old Lisa Marie Kimmel. Bechtel is rumored to be withholding information from authorities. Nothing—except Amy's absence and the wallet's absence (she never carried it running)—seemed awry. Therefore the search centered on the upper sections of the Loop Road, which begins as a paved highway flanked by ranchettes on the immediate outskirts of Lander. The cops expressed surprise at this, claiming that Steve and Todd had told them the mistake wouldn't really matter, since a correct local number was also printed on the poster. There was a brawl after the Lander-Riverton football game a few years ago. In the early nineties, the rock climbers began to arrive, drawn by some of the most accessible and difficult walls in America—notably the two-mile-wide dolomite, sandstone, and granite cliffs of Sinks Canyon, nine miles from town, and a higher area known as Wild Iris, with its 200 bleach-white climbing routes (featuring difficulty ratings from 5.9 to 5.14), 26 miles from town. Beneath Lander's just-folks exterior is a town that has not been able to fence itself off from trouble. No gear, no wallet, no signs. Nels said that Steve denied the journals' currency, that Steve said they were written in high school. To gain faith—faith that the snow, the cold, will vanish. After college, she continued to compete in both regional and national competitions. That is the first terror-dream when a person is missing, and it is linked to a second: that of dying in such a way that one is never conclusively missed, never completely mourned. Its lead story: Police Chief Dick Currah was pressing the city council to crack down on street parties. Labour has a three-point lead over the Conservatives, according to a new poll, putting Sir Keir Starmer above Boris Johnson for the first time.. They see Amy underneath a fir tree. “We’re going to show you a side of Steve Bechtel you’ve never seen before,” he says. After graduating in 1995, she set her sights on the marathon. She tended to listen rather than confess. Perhaps her foot eases off the gas and she thinks, just do the regular run, an easy 40 or 50 minutes, get back to town early, surprise Steve with something nice for dinner. One hundred and forty-six runners stretched and shivered and high-stepped in a parking lot not far from Sinks Canyon State Park. When she showed up as a walk-on on the team at the University of Wyoming in Laramie, cross-country coach Jim Sanchez was almost embarrassed for her. Maybe Amy has changed her mind for some reason. "But he will never show them he is.". “I’m not done yet,” he says. As always when mapping out a course in a car, the distance seems appallingly long and difficult. “Uh-huhhh…Uh-huhh…Where was this?…Uh-huh…What time did you say?…With a guy…The guy had a beard…At the Chimes motel…”. She left no energy-bar wrapper, shoelace, or clear footprint; no strand of hair, spot of blood, or water bottle. Wearing black shorts and running shoes, she stopped at an art gallery about 2:30 p.m. to discuss matting one of her photographs. After a moment Rick McCullough, an FBI agent, comes in carrying a thick folder of papers and files. He talks to Bechtel, Skinner, and Whisler, and decides to play it by the book, start operations at first light. Bechtel starts writing up the phone call. There were only a car, some keys, sunglasses, and a to-do list, with four of its 13 items checked off. Die Strong!" The race’s last mile will be relatively flat, a treat for the runners making it this far. Nels Wroe, Amy's brother, and his wife, Teresa, who is the director of a center for domestic-abuse victims, were shocked at what they felt were indications of violent tendencies in the writing, of obsessive thinking on Steve's part. She ran a pedestrian time at Boston, but Sanchez recognized that she was just getting started. But it’s no longer sustainable for us to give it away for free. Call it 2:30. The climbers’ eyes kindle and narrow. Amy." But officials place the man in Bangor, Maine, on the night of July 23 and appear to discount him as a suspect. Two women, including Steve's sister Leslie, stuff envelopes with canary-yellow flyers—a photo of Amy, her vital statistics, the date and place of her presumed abduction, a phone number to call, a heading: HAVE YOU SEEN AMY? ATVs scampered over the land. Any outright oddnesses or furies seem to get channeled into climbing, and what's left over is small-town camaraderie (potlucks, fireworks on the Fourth), lots of rock-talk, and the edgeless high jinks of a platoon in the movies, of the spirited kids on the team bus. In order to keep Amy in the public consciousness, a $50,000 reward is announced. They're the things you think about.". Amy's sisters, on the other hand, remained publicly loyal to Steve. Steve Bechtel was never charged in the case and still lives in Lander; he’s remarried with two children and operating a gym in town. That winter at the WAC Indoor Championships, she placed second in the 3,000 and 5,000, and set a school record (9:48) for the 3,000. Twenty miles to the southwest, a thin new crown of white graces the high granite peaks above Sinks Canyon and the serpentine Loop Road through Shoshone National Forest, where, sometime on the afternoon of last July 24, Amy Wroe Bechtel went on a routine training run, then vanished from the face of the earth. A separate room at the back of the garage is the Lucky Lane climbing gym. Bechtel leaves Dubois about 3:30 and arrives back at Lucky Lane around 4:30. Open the door and no Amy. We have trackers, air spotters, and what are called cadaver dogs, which supposedly can catch scents even under water. "She's a very trusting person. When they announced plans to marry, a friend joked, “Yeah, now you guys can breed a master race.”, At 8:15 the neighbors sit down to a rushed, distracted dinner. It upgraded and modernized its sewer and water systems and remodeled Main Street with tasteful streetlamps, flower boxes, and litter baskets. Mattresses cover the floor. Maybe Amy’s eyes flicker as she drives past the campground. Still, the piney mountains have always seemed an antidote to human poisons and sorrow. He’s sitting alone in the kitchen at 9 Lucky Lane. Your mind on the task, on the problem and nothing else. With just over 7,000 residents, Lander bills itself as “the fifth most livable small town in America.” The National Outdoor Leadership School is headquartered here. All that effort, all that skill, all those talented and motivated people—none of that really meant a thing. It would be lip-cracking dry, under a ferociously blue sky. Its snowfall, relative to much of the mountainous West, is sporadic and undependable, and its periodic winds are the kind of hellers that make it sad to go outside. Quitting is not an option. "We're trying to get to that point.". 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