Belvedere St.
Halloween 2014. The kids are over excited. We are ready to celebrate. My son (10) is an alien, my daughter (4) is a princess and my wife is a beauty queen.
We are heading to Belvedere St., San Francisco. For those who don’t know, it is The place to be. The street is closed for the occasion, and the whole neighborhood is transformed into a gigantic horror castle. Scary!
Thousand of people are here. Everybody wears a costume, even the dogs. There are kids everywhere, screaming and yelling. Trick-or-treating is the law. You better have multiple bags to carry the harvest of candies and chocolate bars. Some neighbors give representations in their garage, some others sing. Kids have fun and so do we.
Where is Emmie?
One hour into the party, it’s Friday night, our attention vanishes. My wife asks: “Where is Emmie?”. I look around, grab my son and like a tornado, we run from door to door, asking strangers if they have seen a little princess.
There are hundred of little princesses out there. It’s literally impossible to find her.
Hopefully she will show to somebody our phone number we’ve written on her arm. But 20 minutes after, still no phone call.
911
We decide to call the police. Unfortunately, they can’t do much. At this point, we imagine the worst has happened. In average, in the US, 911 receives one call like this every 40 seconds…
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