{"id":1324,"date":"2013-12-04T17:27:16","date_gmt":"2013-12-05T01:27:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/?p=1324"},"modified":"2018-04-03T09:30:49","modified_gmt":"2018-04-03T16:30:49","slug":"endgame","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/endgame\/","title":{"rendered":"Endgame"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"polly-s-poster-cropped-irfan-480\"<\/a>W<\/span>hen Polly’s mother Eve and I were summoned to the Petaluma PD on November 30, 1993 my ability to reach reasonable conclusions had morphed into unreasonable and angry denial. We were in the Chief\u2019s office with Petaluma Police Captain Parks and FBI Special Agent Mershon who told us that they had arrested the man who kidnapped Polly. They watched us carefully for signs of recognition, as we looked at the cold blank eyes staring back at us from the Polaroid snapshot. The kidnapper looked remarkably like the composite on the flyer in a crude unnerving way, but with harsh features. We said that we had never seen him before. They told us that we should get used to the fact that Polly was probably dead because the perpetrator had a long history of violence and had spent most of his life behind bars. \u201cWhat? You dare to tell me that Polly is dead without proof? Has he ever been convicted of murder?\u201d No. \u201cThen fuck you. I\u2019m not interested in your opinion. Go find my daughter, and then we\u2019ll discuss opinions.\u201d Hobbled by a badly strained back, I shuffled out of the station, got into my car and returned to the donated apartment that Violet and I had been using, and in which I was spending increasing amounts of time.<\/p>\n

Confined to the floor by pain, my world was shrinking as the truth about Polly\u2019s fate slowly played out on television. The kidnapper denied that he had kidnapped \u201cthe fucking little broad,\u201d but his sordid criminal history included incidents of kidnapping, robbery, assaults with shotguns, handguns, knives and fireplace pokers. An old girlfriend had committed suicide by shotgun in his presence. He was diagnosed as a sexually sadistic psychopath in 1978. On scene television correspondents breathlessly reported that Polly\u2019s remains had been located seemingly wherever a dog had left its bone. I took comfort in the knowledge that any real break in the case would be conveyed to me by the police, in person and not through the irresponsible speculation playing out on television.<\/p>\n

Words weren\u2019t really necessary when Eve and I were next summoned to the Petaluma PD on Saturday night December 4. We were picked up in separate patrol cars. By the time I arrived in the Chief\u2019s office Eve was already there, sitting with her face in her hands, crying softly. Captain Parks and Agent Mershon, the only other people in the room, also had tears in their eyes. They were sorry to inform me that the kidnapper had confessed and led them to the garbage pile near a rural highway off ramp where he discarded our baby. They recommended that we not view the remains, but instead remember Polly as she was in life.<\/p>\n

I heard his words, but they hadn\u2019t yet pierced my heart. I asked if we could tell our families before the news broke. Within fifteen minutes the Chief\u2019s office was full of Polly\u2019s relatives. I did not cry as tears welled up in their eyes and as they expelled sighs of sorrow with their heads bowed in anguish. I asked if we could inform the volunteers at the search center so that they wouldn\u2019t have to learn the truth on the television. I called over and conveyed the sad news, my voice soft, but never wavering. Then we climbed into our cars and drove home in a slow, silent, caravan.<\/p>\n

The little street on which we lived was covered in winter leaves and as I walked through our front door I remember thinking how beautiful they looked in death. Somebody started a fire, and Violet and I, drained from two months of futile battle, lay down in front of the fireplace. Only then did my emotions fully engage. The rumble began in my core, but quickly found primal voice. I jumped to my feet blinded by tears, a banshee scream escaping from my torched soul. I would have destroyed my home had the men in the room not held me and contained the explosion of my broken heart. Polly was dead and the only thing I wanted to do was to join her.<\/p>\n

\"2<\/a>Finally, the wire had snapped and I plummeted into the bottom of the abyss without a net to break my fall. I had hung my hope on the illusion that hard work would allow me to snatch life from the clutches of death, but death is irreversible and indisputable. It took a 65-day, high velocity descent to learn that the reality of death exists in its finality. When I hit bottom I shattered like glass and shattered glass cannot be easily reassembled. Even if you manage to precisely fuse the shards, the best that you can hope for is a bizarre mosaic of refracting light that bears little resemblance to the original. Instead of strength you have fragility; instead of clarity you have mirrors of illusion.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

hen Polly’s mother Eve and I were summoned to the Petaluma PD on November 30, 1993 my ability to reach reasonable conclusions had morphed into unreasonable and angry denial. We were in the Chief\u2019s office with Petaluma Police Captain Parks and FBI Special Agent Mershon who told us that they had arrested the man who […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1324","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-missing-children","category-polly-klaas"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1324","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1324"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1324\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3188,"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1324\/revisions\/3188"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1324"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1324"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.klaaskids.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1324"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}