Last Monday, the photo editor of the Burlington Free Press sent me out on the most memorable assignment of my life as a photographer.
I tagged along with Michelle Gardner-Quinn’s best friends, Julia and Hannah, while they made and distributed missing person fliers around Burlington.
I was immediately smitten with both of them. I realized quickly that besides the fact that Michelle was missing, they were dealing with some very heavy issues. In the hours we were together, they were inundated with phone calls from media, family, friends, detectives, etc. And despite a few small break downs they were so incredibly positive and full of hope that Michelle would come back. I loved listening to their wonderful stories of Michelle and felt so privileged to be along.
One of the highlights of our walk was when we all stopped to watch a beautiful monarch butterfly on a dahlia, we were so close, but it didn’t seem afraid. We all decided that the butterfly was
a sign of hope and we all felt comforted by the thought.
On Wednesday night I received a call from the girls telling me about the overwhelming presence of the national media frenzy over the days. I was honored that my very own Burlington Free Press was the most positive of all their encounters.
They invited me along on Thursday to search for clues in the Burlington Intervale and even though it was pouring rain, I was so happy to help in any way I could.
It was an overwhelming sadness to hear the news that they had found Michelle on Friday.
Hannah and Julia asked if I could make a poster of the butterfly and a couple of the other
signs of hope we found for Sunday’s memorial service and it was the least I could do. It was a truly beautiful service.
Afterwards, the girls were taking down the posters and Julia said something that I will always remember. She said that the butterfly we saw wasn’t just
a sign of hope, but Michelle herself!
Even though I never met Michelle, I know I would have liked her through the wonderful friends she had.
Here is a poem from the service that touched my heart:
Do Not Stand At My Grave and WeepDo not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the uplifting rush of quiet birds circling in flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.
~Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004)