Andrea Joseph

This past Saturday, I joined nearly 200 others in the search for a woman missing out of Marina. Her photo had been all over the news and in newspapers for a week, as family members sought to find out what happened to Carie Munoz.
Volunteer searchers were put into groups of 17, which included two official guides, and given a specific area of Marina to comb with one goal in mind: To find the missing mother. The only difference between me and the 16 strangers in the group to which I was assigned was that I knew the missing 29-year-old.
“Lulu” – as I knew her – was the adorable little sister of one of my best friends, Jolie, whom I met in fifth grade following my family’s relocation. Our families know each other and Jolie and I often spent time at each other’s homes, where siblings would try to join in.
When the search was organized, there was no question that I would be involved. Jolie was there for me when I struggled through my nephew’s death last year and was there when I spoke at his funeral, prepared to shoulder some of the pain. And, as our friendship has been for nearly 30 years, I was prepared to be there to support her and the rest of the family should my shoulder be needed.
And it was.
I can’t express the heartache that came over me when I heard Jolie on the other end of the phone line: “Andi, they found her.”
The search was over.
Lulu’s body was found not long after the search began, in a brushy area just off a main intersection. The investigation continues, but for her family, the grief has just begun.
Some people would say, “At least they found her and can have some closure.” That’s a sad, but perhaps appropriate way to view all that’s happened.
When I was preparing to continue my education at Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo, a student by the name of Kristin Smart vanished. It was May 25, 1996 – just a few months before I began classes. Kristin Smart was a well-known name when I arrived on campus and her disappearance remains a mystery almost 20 years later. She has never been found.
While I was a student at Cal Poly, two other female students disappeared: Rachel Newhouse and Aundria Crawford. Their faces on the “missing” flyers posted near my apartment, on campus and at area bus stops, remain seared into my memory. Rachel and Aundria’s bodies were found buried in shallow graves on the property of the man who was later tried and convicted of their murders.
And of course there’s Sierra LaMar, our local teenager who disappeared in March 2012. Although she remains missing, a Morgan Hill man has been charged with her kidnapping and murder.
Though the circumstances surrounding Lulu’s disappearance and death are uncertain – whether she herself was responsible, or someone else was – it has still brought so many memories into the forefront of my mind. I thought about Kristin and Rachel, Aundria and Sierra – young women I never knew, but who each touched a part of me with their stories. And I’ve thought about their moms and dads and siblings, some who have gotten that so-called “closure” and worked through their grief, and others who perhaps still have hope.
But now, for my friend and her family, the grieving process will begin, plans will be made and the focus will likely turn to the young daughter Lulu leaves behind.
And just like the four other women I feel a connection to for various reasons, Lulu’s beautiful smile and expressive eyes will forever remain etched into my mind. And I will do whatever I can to help ease Jolie and her family’s sadness and lift them up when they feel paralyzed by burdens.
Now and always.
Andrea “Andi” Joseph is the Lifestyles and Business editor for South Valley Newspapers. Reach her at aj*****@sv**********.com.

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