When I was in jr. high, John Joubert abducted, molested and killed two boys in my town. The boys were my brother's age, and it was a very scary time. Throughout the city, kids weren't allowed to stand outside the school to wait for our parents to pick us up. We were drilled on how to be safe with strangers. This all happened after the first abduction. When the second boy was abducted, we were afraid there was nothing we could do. When the boys were found dead, we were even more frightened, and the full details of the horrors that happened weren't even released to the public. I just thought there was a violent killer sneaking around ready to snatch my brother. The killer was finally found and later put to death. But his death couldn't kill all the men like him.

An eleven-year-old boy was found last night after going missing over the weekend. His death was as horrorific as that of Danny Jo Eberle and Christopher Walden. And now it's not my brother I'm worried about but my own son. It's different. Now it's my job to protect, just as it's every parents' job to protect their children. And I'm scared again, because no matter how careful you are, something can happen. That one split second is all it takes. The ten minutes Hammy was late getting home wasn't just ten minutes. He could have been gone forever.

It's unrealistic to think I can protect him at all times. I do what I can. I instruct him on how to handle situations with strangers. I hope he follows it if he's ever confronted, but when it comes down to it, that moment is up to him. He either listens or he doesn't. He's a trusting boy, and it worries me. It's nice to be trusting, but it's better to have good judgment on whom you can trust. All I can do is try to teach him good judgment and give him the tools he needs to use that judgment. I want to be there. I want to be his guardian angel. I can't.