The Gap

September 13th, 2000. That was the date on the calendar. For many people, the day would have no significance beyond its reality as yet another twenty-four-hour cycle in the year. But every day is significant to someone. For somebody out there, September 13th is a birthday or a wedding day, but for sixteen-year-old Sarah Coulson, September 13th is the anniversary of the day she was abducted. In particular, September 13th, 2000, marked ten years since the day that had changed her life.

Ten years ago, a six-year-old Sarah Coulson was only a tiny first grader. She and her family lived in a house on King Street that the family continues to call their home. King Street is a long, cozy street bookended by houses on each side of the length of its stretching path. Some of those houses are older than others, some less than spectacular to the eye, but that isn’t and never has been important because King Street exists in Elliot Falls.

The town of Elliot Falls is a peaceful, friendly place where everyone knows and trusts one another. In fact, it has long been a tradition in the town for everyone to greet and befriend any new and unfamiliar faces. In Elliot Falls, there is no such thing as a stranger. One would be hard pressed to find a single house with a locked door or curtains covering the windows. It simply isn’t necessary. Crime in Elliot Falls is like a monster in Loch Ness—it doesn’t exist. Even local law enforcement encourages neighbors to drop by one another’s homes when the owners are out and surprise them by leaving them some homemade baked goods. Being neighborly and open is the key to the prosperity of Elliot Falls and there is nowhere else in town that these values are exemplified than on King Street.

King Street is a popular choice for young families to plant their roots because of its proximity to the local elementary school. The length of a walk from King Street to Elliot Elementary ranged anywhere from two to ten minutes depending on if one lived at the beginning or end of the street. This means that there are few houses on King Street that do not contain families. The few homes that are in exception to that notion are typically elderly empty-nesters that are kind to everyone and would happily substitute anyone’s grandparents if asked to. It is for all those reasons and more that the Coulson’s moved into their home on King Street in Elliot Falls in February of 1988.

Adventurous, ambitious, and unapologetically American, Jonathan and Wynona Coulson aspired to live somewhere that would embody the ideals they fantasized about together in their days as high school sweethearts. They craved a white picket fence, a God-fearing, church-going community, and maybe even a milk man like the good old days of their youth. Their daughter, Sarah, had been born just four years earlier as a “wonderful” surprise to the two and the couple wanted to raise her in a place free from the chaos of urban living and the kind of people and values that existed in the cities. They didn’t get their picket fence or their milk man, but Elliot Falls and King Street provided the couple a fresh start far away from their previous lives in a community that believed in the neighborly and the holy—and one out of three isn’t bad.

In 1990, Sarah Coulson turned six-years-old. Her parents, Jonathan and Wynona, decided to send their daughter to Elliot Elementary to begin the first grade after spending her kindergarten years at home learning how to behave in public from her parents.

The Coulson home is located at the far end of King Street, making it a four-minute drive or a ten-minute walk to Elliot Elementary for their family.

Firm believers in learning independence at a young age, Jonathan and Wynona Coulson wanted their daughter to make the short, daily walk down the long street to her school. She might have been hesitant, but all children are at some point or another. The couple wanted to teach Sarah that she cannot, and, more importantly, should not depend on her parents for every little thing. Much like they had envisioned their lives in a nice neighborhood and made it a reality, the Coulson’s envisioned molding their daughter into a successful child that was well-mannered and self-reliant. They wanted her to be the kind of kid they could trust to stay by herself at home when they wanted to go out dancing or go see a movie. After all, they had provided her with a safe, friendly environment to live in, now she needed to learn how to explore it alone so the two could enjoy it together.

From her very first day of the first grade, Sarah Coulson would make that ten-minute walk to school and the subsequent ten-minute walk back to her house every weekday without incident. But on the fateful day of September 13th, 1990, this pattern would be broken in disturbing fashion.

September 13th, 1990 was a rainy day. The sky was gray and decorated with thick, full clouds. Sarah had braved the rain during her walks to school before, but they had been mere sprinkles compared to the shower of that day. Some parents had opted to drive their children to school, but the Coulson’s stood strong by their philosophies. Their own parents hadn’t driven them to school because of a little rain, why would they do the same for Sarah? The couple viewed the weather as a good opportunity for Sarah to figuratively brave the hardships of life she would face later on. And besides, the school was only ten-minutes away, she would surely be fine.

Or so they thought.