I always feel so many emotions when I am at the finish line watching runners cross. Today was no exception--the finish line was full of emotions. And as Paul Harvey would say, "Here's the rest of the story..."
The race ended in a large park that has a shallow little stream running through it, with bridges over the stream with a lot of open area and a playground in the middle. After the race, while Chod was hanging out in the "runner's only" area downing chocolate milk and ice cream sandwiches (that is a major plus in having FatBoy as one of the race sponsors), the rest of us headed to the playground to let kids unleash some energy.
It was decided that Karisa would take the 4 tired and hungry children back to the suburban (with the help of Mom, Tameka, and Dad) and I would ride with Chod.
Within minutes I noticed my mom and Karisa looking for someone. I asked who.
"We can't find Bentley. He was with us and then turned around and ran back here."
We all started scouring ladders and slides, but couldn't see him.
So we spread out. I headed to the southeast corner of the park, Dad walked the perimeter of the park, Tameka headed back into the crowd of people, Karisa watched the other children, kept an eye on the playground, and they said a prayer.
No Bentley.
I asked a group of women and children if they had seen a 3 year old boy wearing a gray Utah State shirt with a bull on it. The one replied that she had, but not for a while--wasn't he wearing blue jeans? I bumped into my mother, father, and sister-in-law and recruited them in the search.
No Bentley.
I headed over to the race announcer area and the ambulance and police cars. My head was spinning. I kept trying to remind myself that everything would be okay, but I couldn't think straight or focus. I couldn't find anyone in uniform, or even anyone that looked official. My heart was beating and I thought I can't lose him. How can this be happening? How long do I wait before doing something? The longer we don't have him the worse it gets. A marathon finish line is not a place most child abductors hang out, right? Where can he be?
That's when I pulled out my phone and called 911.
I reported a missing 3 year old, and gave his description. The dispatcher assured me that there were a lot of officers in the area and they would find him. He told me they would be calling me back shortly.
I saw the ladies I had asked earlier, they asked if I had found him and I responded, "No, I just called 911--but I think I might lose it." They were so nice and told me to sit down and it would be okay. I responded that I was going to find my mom and she could take care of me. They reported they had walked along the stream but didn't see him.
Then my phone rang. The dispatcher said he had been found on a bridge and the EMT's had him in the first aid tent.
"WHERE IS THE FIRST AID TENT?"
She told me it was by the finish line.
I met Tameka and we hurried over. I saw a man on a gurney with an IV and asked if that was the first aid tent. But I couldn't see my Bentley anywhere. They said it was and I said I was missing my little boy.
Then an EMT pointed and asked, "Is this your Bentley?"
A very nice lady was holding him, and her husband and kids were standing next to her. She explained that he had fallen off the bridge and I might need to check his leg for scrapes, although she thought he was more afraid than hurt.
My Bentley! I thanked the lady, wiped the dirt off his face, and we headed back to call off the search.
Pretty sure I had more adrenaline pumping through me at at that point than Chod had during the race.
We went on a ride with the future Uncle Ty and Boone and Crockett (his team).
Headed to the pumpkin patch
and found the perfect pumpkin.
Precariously perched plum picking. Deidra was standing on a bench...a little trick they learned from Grandma and Papa and the Christmas tree.
Had a picnic while taking dinner to the corn crew.
Lincoln thinks this harvest stuff is A-O-K.
