Almost Trailside: A True Story

84 Pages·2014·1.03 MB·English

by  Rocco

ALMOST TRAILSIDE
A True Story
Written by
KATHY ROCCO
“Life is a colorful and intricate patterned tapestry bound by golden threads of
love, respect, and understanding.”
Kathy Rocco
ALMOST TRAILSIDE
A True Story
Cover Design by Kathy Rocco
Copyright © 2013 Kathleen Frances Rocco
All rights reserved.
ISBN 10: 1479248959
ISBN 13: 9781479248957
Some character names have been changed.
Dedicated to my sons
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
Ellen Hansen Memorial Prize
Chapter I In The Beginning
Chapter II Thirty Days Out
Chapter III On the Road
Chapter IV Stuck In The Desert
Chapter V Something New
Chapter VI The Meeting
Chapter VII Aftershock
Chapter VIII Coping
Chapter IX The Trailside Killer
Chapter X His Victims
Chapter XI Conclusion
References
PROLOGUE
T
his story is true. It is a factual account of a rare and chance face-to-face
meeting of an unsuspecting young family and a notorious cold blooded serial
killer and rapist. This encounter could have had a very different, devastating, and
life changing ending for all of us… especially for me.
It’s been many years ago now, in fact decades, but the haunting memories of
that fateful day are as clear today as if it occurred yesterday. I could never have
guessed, that twenty years later, I would be in a position to face those chilling
events once again.
No one can stop destiny.
T
his hot summer morning in mid July 1998, the main office at the middle
school where I worked as the school secretary was bustling with activity, as
usual. The five minute warning bell just rang for first period. Summer school
teachers and associates working in the office hurried to gather their supplies and
eagerly headed toward their classrooms. Students arriving on campus quickened
their pace to avoid the tardy bell.
When the flag salute and morning announcements were completed, the busy
office began to quiet.
I was on the telephone with a second call waiting, when Amy, a school
psychologist, appeared in my doorway. I motioned for her to enter. She quickly
sat down in front of me on one of the two chairs I had for visitors then neatly
placed the several files she carried and small envelope purse on her lap.
I was surprised to see Amy so early. Usually she came in mid-morning and
started seeing students shortly after, but something seemed different this
morning. Her pretty blue eyes, that usually sparkled, were dark in a way that was
unlike her, and that concerned me. She seemed edgy, fidgety, nervous…but
something else, too, that seemed to umbrella her in an odd sort of way.
I liked Amy but I didn’t really know her well. She had been assigned to our
school for the last few years, coming in twice a week to meet with individual
students. Sometimes we ate lunch at the same table in the staff lounge but rarely
did we have an opportunity to have a real conversation. Amy was at least ten
years younger than I and a new mother…petite, cute, and perky with a sweet
smile and an adorable pixie haircut. She was a respected member of the staff, a
wonderful role model for students, and well-liked by everyone.
I covered the telephone receiver and quietly told Amy that I had one more
call, if she didn’t mind waiting. She nodded, and stared out the window,
appearing to lose herself in thought. She looked tired. I wondered what was on
her mind.
When I finished the second call, and focused my attention on Amy, she asked
if she could close the door to my office so that we could talk privately. I never
closed my office door, except for those times when privacy or confidentiality
was most important. This seemed like it was going to be one of those times.
Amy placed her files and purse on the little table between the chairs, closed
the door, and sat down again. Taking a deep breath she scooted her chair up
close to my desk. My curiosity was peaked and my pencil poised against my
steno pad ready to take notes.
“I was talking with Becky yesterday and she shared something with me that I
want to talk with you about. I came in early this morning hoping you could give
me some time out of your busy day.” Amy spoke softly.
Becky occupied the office across the hall when she was an assistant principal.
She was tall, attractive, always well dressed, and a hard working woman. We
worked together for six years before she accepted a position at the district office.
Becky was a fun and very bright professional. Sometimes in the late afternoon
when the office was quiet, Becky and I would find some time to chat. I missed
Becky when she transferred.
“Well, of course, Amy. You know I’m always here for you. What’s going on
that I can help you with?” I could see she was on the edge of emotional.
“I’d like to know about my friend, Ellen…Ellen Hansen. She was my best
friend. We were like sisters. I was devastated when she was killed. Becky said
you saw her that day. I’d like to know what happened, how she looked, and what
she said. I’d like to know her last words.” Amy’s eyes began to glisten.
“Amy, I don’t know what you’re talking about but I can see it’s important to
you. I’m sorry that your friend was killed but I really don’t know who Ellen is.”
I didn’t have a clue. I wondered why Becky would tell Amy that I saw her friend
before she died.
“You know…on the hiking trail that day in Henry Cowell Park. Becky said
you talked to the Trailside Killer…that you saw them together. He killed her that
day, and you were the last person on earth to see her alive…the last person to see
her before she died. Don’t you remember?”
A chill ran through me like a bolt of lightening. The hair on my arms stood up.
I began to sweat. My pulse quickened, my heart pounded, my face flushed. Panic
and fear began to rise in me as her words brought it all back in a flood of ugly
memories. Yes, I knew exactly what she was talking about and wished I didn’t.
“Of course I remember. It’s just been such a long time since anyone has
spoken of it.” I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. I set my pencil
down, and brushed the hair back from my face to try and cool myself. “I’ll tell
you what I know, Amy, but it isn’t much. You can probably get more
information from the old newspaper articles.” I tried to sound reassuring. I hated
thinking about it again. It was such an unsettling time. I didn’t relish revisiting it
but I wanted to help Amy if I could.
“I’ve been through the newspapers many times, but that’s not what I’m
looking for. I want to know about her, about what you saw, about anything she
said. I’ve had several conversations with Art Danner and he can’t tell me what I
want to know, either. Only you know those things. You were the last person to
see her alive. Please, tell me how she looked. Did she say anything…anything at
all?”
“Art Danner, I know that name. He’s the one who called me from the Santa
Cruz District Attorney’s Office. He’s the one who told me that the Trailside
Killer was stalking me that weekend.” My stomach churned. I almost felt sick
talking about it again after so many years. I had put Art Danner’s haunting
words behind me long ago.
“Yes, Art Danner was the District Attorney in Santa Cruz in charge of the
investigation. He’s a very nice man. We’ve kept in touch all of these years.”
Amy’s voice broke. “Please, tell me. I really need to know about her. Anything
will help.”
“I can tell you what I saw Amy, but I don’t know if it’s going to give you
what you’re looking for. It’s been a very long time since I’ve even thought about
it.” I took a deep breath and began. I told Amy everything with every detail I
could remember about that dreadful day that changed the lives forever of so
many innocent people. I felt like rambling on, to get it all out, to somehow purge
the awful memory of it from my mind and from my life but I didn’t. Amy
listened intently sitting on the edge of her seat.
“I was hoping maybe she said something, you know…her last words. She
wrote poetry. I’ll share her poems with you sometime, if you like. She was a
good writer. I really miss her. I’ve stayed close with her family. Her mother
recently passed away. I was telling Becky about it and that’s when she told me
your story. That’s why I came to see you today.” Amy’s pretty blue eyes pooled.
“I understand. It’s difficult to lose someone you care about, especially under
those circumstances. I’m sorry I can’t help you further. I truly wish I could, but
that’s all I know about her.” I could see Amy was disappointed. She came to me
full of hope looking for answers, looking for information, but I couldn’t tell her
any more than she already knew. It was obvious that Amy was still saddened by
the loss of her good friend even though it was so long ago.
“It’s okay, really. I just had to ask.” Amy pushed the chair back from my
desk. “I better get going,” she said, with a sigh. “I have students to see this
morning.” She picked up her files and purse to leave.
I moved out from behind my desk and gave Amy a hug. I opened my office
door for her and she quickly departed. I stood there in the doorway for a moment
letting a cool refreshing breeze from the hallway wash over me. My mind was
whirling with the disturbing memories of that tragic weekend so many years ago.
I wondered what might have happened if Ellen would have tried to speak to us
or signal us in some way. I think we all would have been victims of the Trailside
Killer that day.
I needed to clear it from my thoughts so I could focus on my work…but that
was easier said than done.
E
llen Marie Hansen and Stephen Haertle, were undergraduates at the
University of California at Davis. On March 29, 1981 they were hiking together
on one of the trails not far from their campground in the Santa Cruz Mountains
at Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. On that day, Stephen and Ellen both
became victims of David Carpenter, better known as the Trailside Killer and
rapist. Stephen was shot several times and left for dead but was able to recover
from his wounds. Ellen was shot point blank in the head and shoulder and was
killed instantly when she refused to let David Carpenter rape her. It was a
gruesome and calculated crime that changed their lives forever and the lives of
everyone that knew them and loved them.
Ellen Hansen Memorial Prize
T
he Ellen Hansen Memorial Prize is awarded annually to a UCD (University of
California at Davis) woman student whose original creative project best
demonstrates the bravery and independence of women.
The $1,000 Prize is named for the student who was killed in 1981 while
hiking in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Ellen Hansen’s courageous resistance
allowed her hiking companion to escape and survive the attack. Her attacker was
later identified as the “Trailside Killer”.
Ellen’s father, Robert J. Hansen, a UC Davis professor of Veterinary
Medicine, now retired, established the annual award in 1986 as a tribute to his
daughter, and to encourage the creative pursuits of other women students.
Ellen was a UC Davis student and a talented artist, musician, and poet.