Missing Molly: A Year of Heartache, A Year of Hope

By Elizabeth Tragash
June 2001

When Molly Bish vanished from a beach in Warren, Massachusetts on a tranquil summer day last June, parents throughout the state and beyond were impacted. The safety net that we had tried to create for our children was torn to shreds on that day.

That incident heightened my compassion for the mother who was not as fortunate, the mother who would spend another night pacing the familiar corridors of hell. I did not yet know Magi Bish, but I could feel her pain as if it were my own. I had only spent a few long moments in her shoes and I could not fathom how painful it would be to lie down each night and awaken each morning to walk through another day, not knowing where my child was, not knowing if she were safe.

I followed the media, watching as the lines of sadness and fear etched themselves deeper upon the faces of a devastated mother and father as time crept by without a trace. I looked at Molly's picture and saw a face that could be my own daughter's. I saw the face of a child, cherished and missed by her family and friends. I saw the glimmer of youthful trust and innocence before it had been stolen and shattered.

I could not turn away from those faces. I vowed that I would find a way to do something to help bring this child home. It began with writing this article to commemorate the anniversary of Molly's disappearance, to keep her face and her plight before our eyes. It has become a journey in which I am learning about Molly through her mother's eyes, seeing the strength and grace of a family reaching beyond themselves to transform their tragedy into the work of rebuilding a safety net to envelop all of our children.

Reaching Out

When I first spoke with Magi Bish, it was nine months and two weeks after Molly had disappeared from her post as a lifeguard at Comins Pond. When she saw Molly's belongings lying beside an empty chair on the sand, Magi knew in her heart that something was terribly wrong. In those terrifying moments, her journey through a parent's worst nightmare began. She describes the months that followed as being trapped in a horrible movie, likening her experience to that of prisoners in concentration camps whose children were wrenched away from them, victims of the utmost human cruelties.

Still, as Magi shared her journey with me, I was struck by the quiet strength that emanated from her voice. She spoke of how her faith in God has sustained her through the deep, unspeakable sadness that has penetrated her family. She attends church weekly and also visits a local monastery where friends join her in prayer, commemorating another week that has passed since Molly disappeared.

Magi spoke with a quiet awe about the remarkable human spirit that has been manifested in the countless acts of kindness that have been extended to her family by both friends and strangers. Each of them is welcomed as a "partner in the search." " I could write so many stories for a "Chicken Soup" book," she laughed, sharing how so many people have donated time and resources to assist with the search and the establishment of the Molly Bish Foundation.

Rebuilding the Safety Net

Magi explained how the family's involvement in establishing the Foundation grew. In one of the bleaker moments, when the pain of waiting became overwhelming, Magi reached out to Team H.O.P.E. (Help Offering Parents Empowerment) an organization that was founded to provide support to parents of missing children. "It is," she adds, "an unfortunate 'club' that we have joined, but we all bond together and help each other." 

Mark Klaas, whose daughter Polly was abducted in 1993, called Magi and offered the support of a fellow parent. Klaas responded to his own tragedy by establishing Klaas Kids, an organization whose goal is to promote safety awareness through education, resources and legislation. Klaas sent materials to help the Bish family launch their own effort to provide Child Identification Kits and safety programs. It was a lifeline that Magi and John gratefully accepted.

When Magi spoke of the family's work in educating children about safety, I could hear the loving concern of a devoted first grade teacher, a vocation that also serves as a lifeline for Magi. She spoke of her desire to help children become more aware of safety issues but not to scare them. She described child exploitation as "more of a seduction than an abduction," pointing out that predators are not likely to approach children as "monsters," but are more likely to prey upon them in the guise of trusting adults. "They are smart, but we have to be smarter," she adds in her gentle voice.

It is with the same concern that Magi speaks of the identification kits that have been given to over 4,000 children since the Bish family began their mission. These kits include a child's photograph, fingerprints and dental impressions, which can help identify children who have been victims of accidents as well as abductions. "We hope they never have to use them."

Milestones: Healing Hands that Hold Us Up

The second time that I spoke to Magi was shortly after the body of a young girl had been found in Hooksett, New Hampshire. Her voice reflected the multitude of emotions that she had experienced that day. There was the fear of what the phone messages from the police and press would reveal, the hope for closure and the relief that the search had not yet ended, that hope had not been extinguished. Still, she expressed compassion for the parents whose search had ended in tragedy.

Magi spoke of the toll that the search has taken upon each member of the family. There is the pain of the predictable milestones, the holidays and birthdays in which there is an empty place and aching hearts. There are other less predictable milestones, like the sight of a group of girls walking across a field to softball practice, heralding the beginning of another season in which a key player is missing and missed.

One of the first milestones was Molly's seventeenth birthday on August 2, 2000. It was a choice between feeling sad at home or with others. The family characteristically chose involvement, holding a party that was a celebration of Molly's life, of hope and faith. Magi expressed concern for Molly's friends who had lost a lifelong friend and the sense of security that had enveloped them. The party was an opportunity for the family to reassure them that they will never give up their search and to model that the adults will always be there to help them as well.

The party was a mixture of laughter and tears, games, stories, hugs and dancing amidst the lingering refrain, "We will never let you go." Each of the approximately 300 guests left with a yellow balloon and a pledge to honor Molly's spirit by performing an act of kindness or an act of safety. For Magi, the party was another example of how "so many people were there to hold us up when we just wanted to fall down."

That circle of people continues to grow, sustaining the family through the painful passage of each milestone that marks the first year without Molly.

The Core of Family, Community and Compassion

I visited the town of Warren, Massachusetts, on May 6, 2001 to attend an International Missing Children's Day event in which ham radio operators around the world exchanged information about missing persons. Pictures of hundreds of missing children and adults were posted, each face another gaping hole in the safety net.

It was also a time to meet Magi and John, to see the love that flows between them and their children, Heather and John Jr., to feel the light that emanates from their granddaughter, Mikaela.

Magi brought me to the house to show me the table that is overflowing with pictures and mementos of Molly, who she lovingly refers to as "Moll." She describes her as  "silly and goofy," a good student and athlete and a friend with a kind heart. A mother recently approached Magi to tell her that Molly was her son's only friend. A teacher's aide wrote Magi a note sharing how Molly had befriended a learning disabled student, brightening his day with friendly notes and her warm smile.

Molly's compassion for others was evident as a young child when at the age of ten she wrote a note to the family of Holly Piirainen, also ten, who was abducted in nearby Sturbridge in 1993. "I am very sorry. I wish I could make it up to you," she wrote, reaching out to heal the hearts of strangers.

Seven years later those strangers would be reaching out to comfort her family.

Waterbugs and Dragonflies

Magi pointed out an assortment of dragonflies resting amidst the pictures and stuffed animals, explaining their significance. One day a large dragonfly landed on John's shoulder. Everyone tried to brush it off but it continued to rest firmly on his shoulder. Shortly afterward Magi learned of a fable written by Doris Stickney about a waterbug who climbed atop a blade of grass, finding himself in a different world where he had been transformed into a beautiful dragonfly. He flew down to the pond to let his family know that he was in a wonderful place. He could not penetrate the waters with his words or with his wings but he knew that someday his family would join him and then they would know that he was safe and happy.

Perhaps the dragonfly that clung to John's shoulder was Molly coming to visit, trying to let us know that she is safe.

I drove home listening to Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli performing a powerful rendition of "The Prayer." It is a song that Magi listens to when she wants to feel close to Molly, a prayer that asks for,

A world where pain and sorrow will be ended and every heart that's broken will be mended.

Help us find a place, guide us with your grace, give us faith so we'll be safe.

The journey is not over, hearts are still broken, but the network of hands that hold and heal keeps growing, working together to create a place where we can all be safe.  

© Copyright 2001 Pedlar Publishing • 508-987-5886

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