The Mysterious Disappearance of Tara Grinstead
Tara's Last Night Home
Ocilla, GA October 22, 2005
A few crisp leaves, the first to sense the coming chill shuddered on their branches and then let go. Some tumbled softly to the ground, others landed on a jack-o-lantern grinning in mock malevolence outside the prim white house on the corner of Park Street.
It was late by the standards of Tara Grinstead's neighborhood, 11 p.m. on a Saturday night in October, cool and clear, a good night for sleeping and most of the neighbors on the schoolteacher's peaceful residential street were taking advantage of it. Not all of them, of course. There were a few lights on in neighboring houses, but not many. Her next-door neighbors were asleep. Joe and Myrtle Portier, "Mr. Joe and Miss Myrtle," Tara called them, often waited up for her, watching for the lamp in her bedroom to be doused. It was their private signal that Tara had again made it home safely. Not that night. That night, the Portiers had retired early. Their lights were off.
No one really knows for certain precisely what Tara did after she pulled into her little carport that night. Neighbors would later say that they heard her dog barking, but that was hardly unusual. Whenever Tara returned home, she would be greeted by the excited yelping and barking of her young German Shepard the history teacher had named her Dolly Madison who spent most of her time in the fenced in yard behind the carport.
By all accounts, Tara doted on that dog. She never passed the animal without stroking it, and by all accounts Dolly was equally devoted to her. She was equally devoted to her pet cat, Herman Talmadge named for a former Georgia governor and U.S. Senator who was besieged by personal tragedy and censure for the Senate for financial misconduct --though Herman, by all accounts was far more reserved in his demonstrations of affection. It was his habit that only after she walked into her bedroom would he come out from under the bed and rub up against her leg. That was how small gray cat told her that he loved her. He loved only her, but he was sparing in the way he showed it.
By all appearances, Tara maintained her regular regimen that night. A creature of habit, she turned on the nightstand lamp, her signal to Joe and Myrtle Portier, even though she knew they were already asleep. She plugged her cell phone into its charger and changed out of the clothes she had worn that evening to the Sweet Potato Festival in the nearby town of Fitzgerald. She dropped them on the divan beside her bed. Later, they would be found there, partially hidden under a pile of other garments, many of them still on hangers.
Perhaps she was preparing for bed. She had every reason to be tired. In fact, earlier that night she had said as much when she left the dinner party at Troy and Missy Davis. "I'm going to watch the video of the pageant," before she turned in for the night she told them when she'd left their house. They understood, of course. They knew just how hard she'd worked with the girls in the Miss Sweet Potato pageant helping them dress, doing their make-up and hair for the pageant.
And like most of her friends, they knew just how tough things had been for the high school teacher and former beauty queen recently. Tara Grinstead had been maintaining a grueling schedule, working full time as an 11th grade teacher, a job she was uniquely dedicated to, plus carrying a hefty class load while studying for her studying for her 6-year education specialist degree, the last stop before beginning work on her doctorate. What's more, she had also thrown herself completely into the task of getting her students ready for the pageant.