I ll never forget when I was maybe 12 or 13-years-old, I witnessed the look of sheer panic, grief and terror as tears rolled down the faces of my father and mother. What s going on, I asked. Your sister is missing, my father said as he frantically paced back and forth in between phone calls to the police station. My sister had gone out with a friend of hers the night before to the Altamont Fair. She didn t come home.
For hours we were living a nightmare. To this day, I can honesty say that I have never seen my mom and dad completely torn apart like they were on that summer day. When something like this happens, you immediately think the worst. I remember my mother saying out loud that she thought Sherri was dead. This was 35 years ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday.