by Ed Smart
There were lots of friends who helped in so many ways, but one friend in particular became very important to me while Elizabeth was gone. I believe that she was absolutely guided to help me in the way that she did. It became increasingly difficult for me to function and perform the daily routines of running a home and looking after five children. I don't know how she first heard the news that Elizabeth had been taken, but she found me around ten o'clock that night at Ed's parents. She came up, knocked on the door, walked in, and threw her arms around me and held me. She had the right words at that moment, which offered me some comfort that Elizabeth was being watched over and protected. She had an optimism that helped me cope. She never waited for me to call and ask for help—she somehow instinctively knew what needed to be done. I couldn't tell anyone what I needed. I was numb and unsure myself what needed to be done. It was wonderful to have a friend I could talk to. She was completely removed from the whole situation because she wasn't family, and she could listen without any judgment, regardless of what we talked about. I think that most people simply didn't know the right thing to do—and looking back, I'm not sure there was a right or wrong answer to that.
We believe we were guided and directed in everything that we did during the investigation. There were no coincidences. Everything unfolded in its chosen time. We had switched into survival mode. Our world had stopped when Elizabeth was kidnapped. Everybody was there for us—so when we started to think about Elizabeth, about who was there with her and wiping her tears, it was too much to absorb. I often wondered if I had been crying for Elizabeth or for my own pain. How could I separate the two? Obviously, the tears were for our daughter. We had thousands of people helping us try to get Elizabeth back—and she had no one. We had volunteers hanging posters and donating food, lining up press conferences, and doing anything else they could do in the effort to help. No one was physically there to help Elizabeth or take care of her needs, though I knew our Heavenly Father was aware of her situation.
Praying and reading scripture was a daily practice for us. I also started reading other books that were extremely meaningful and comforting to me. I wanted to understand why this was happening. Ed and I had very different ways of coping. We both wanted the same thing—for Elizabeth to be safe and be returned to our arms—but we dealt with our emotions completely differently. Prayer was the common heart we shared in our coping. We both strongly believed that she was alive and out there somewhere. Regardless of where Elizabeth was, she was in the Lord's hands. If she had been dead, I felt comfort in knowing she was with her Heavenly Father and her grandfather, and that she was in a much better place. I knew that I would see her again, for we are an eternal family.
Let thy heart be of good cheer before my face; and thou shalt bear
record of my name, not only unto the Gentiles, but also unto the Jews;
and thou shalt send forth my word unto the ends of the earth.
—D&C 112:4
Sometimes things happen in life that make us feel as though we are being challenged with more than we can endure. I'm not sure why these things happen, but I believe that bad things do happen to good people. A few weeks after Elizabeth was kidnapped, I was having a particularly bad Sunday. To be honest, there were many, many bad days—but Sundays were especially hard. That is the day that we go to church together as a family. The children had come back to live at the house, and we were trying to get back to a routine. I got all of the children ready for church, but I simply couldn't muster the strength to pull myself together. I was lying on my bed, looking up at the ceiling, feeling lost and distraught. I had been crying and crying. I kept praying in my mind for an answer to why this could be happening. I lay there and said to God, “You have given me more than I can handle.” Scripture tells us that God will never give us more than we can handle, but at that particular moment, I totally disagreed. I prayed for God to take away my pain. And then I heard a voice in my head, clear as anything I have ever heard, say the words “Be of good cheer.” I couldn't begin to comprehend what that was supposed to mean. I remember thinking, “How could I be of good cheer in a situation like this?” I became intrigued with why those words had been given to me. It was enough to get me out of bed that morning. I dressed and went to church.
Later that day, those very words appeared in the text of a book I was reading, Brent L. Top's Why Bad Things Happen to Good People. It was so poignant. I researched scripture that directed good cheer and found two passages in the Bible that refer to these remarkable words: Acts 27:25, “be of good cheer: for I believe God that it shall be even as it was told me,” and John 16:33, “these things I've spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world, ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” God has always sent messages to His disciples to “be of good cheer.” Those words were meant to encourage me to live. Elizabeth was His daughter before she was mine. He loved her many times more than I could even comprehend. So, if she was with Him, “be of good cheer.” If she were to come back to me, “be of good cheer.” Either way, “be of good cheer.” It suddenly made so much sense. I had to start living again, because the alternative was unacceptable. I had to trust in the Lord, believe, and be faithful. After that epiphany, life got a little easier.
I never forgot Elizabeth was gone—not even while I tried to stay busy—but I slowly started to realize that I would have to get back to the routine of my everyday life. Whoever stole our daughter was not going to steal my family. I refused to let him or anyone take over my life, and I certainly wasn't going to be filled with anger. A heart consumed with anger has no room for love. I think Ed and I realized early on in the investigation that anger wasn't going to get us anywhere. It would only make things worse. In a way, the fact that I never felt anger was a miracle. Wallowing in anger would have been counterproductive to the investigation, to our family needs, and to ourselves. Instead of feeling angry, I put my attention, energy, and focus on feeling hope and taking care of my family.
Hope, like faith, is the evidence of things not seen. You can't have faith without hope. Hope is like the precursor to faith, and faith becomes the sustaining power. If you give up hope, you give up faith. None of those things are diminished by the outcome of whatever happens in our lives. We will all have adversity. We can either become stronger and better because of it, or weakened because of it. Our faith can be strengthened through our hard times. Some of the strongest people I know are those who have suffered tremendous misfortune in their lives. Those are the people we ought to look to—I have seen what they went through. I have been through it myself, and I believe I have become stronger because of the experience.
We don't always recognize miracles that happen in our lives, but they happen on a regular basis. I believe that miracles are a part of everyone's life. They are as old as the scriptures. I don't believe that Elizabeth's disappearance was a miracle, but I certainly believe that miracles occurred throughout our ordeal and even since she has been home. Our prayers became more intense and more sincere. Our love for one another was greater. Our relationships became stronger. It is a miracle that we were able to live our lives with our daughter missing. It was a miracle that we were strengthened from the experience. It is a miracle that she was able to survive the conditions in which she was forced to live. It is a miracle that she is doing great being home and getting back to life as she knew it before she was taken.
When facing adversity, you face choices. You either get stronger and better, or you weaken and die. We all had our strengths, and we came together as one family to magnify those strengths. Through our collective efforts, we were able to witness the greatest miracle of all—bringing Elizabeth home. But it is important to say that while the outcome was the best possible answer to our prayers, we would have come out of this much stronger and been able to move forward either way. There would have been a terrible void in our lives, but we would never let anyone forget Elizabeth.
When our children returned home, we
asked for a blessing on our home that a peaceful feeling would guard against any sense that we could be invaded or violated again. The blessing bestowed on our home remains one of the most comforting and meaningful experiences we had during those difficult months. There was an instant calm surrounding us, and the house was filled with love, safety, and protection. It wasn't a sensation that only we felt. Our electrician would later tell us that he felt a peacefulness at our home. He said that it had a different spirit about it that was calming in an otherwise tumultuous time.
A few weeks later, a window washer came to our home, not knowing who lived there. He had been knocking door to door in the neighborhood, looking for work. When I answered, he said, “Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't realize this was your home. I would be most honored to wash your windows free of charge.” We didn't feel like it was right not to pay this man for his services. However it also didn't seem like the time to have a stranger do any work around the house. I asked him for an estimate and his phone number and told him that when the time was right, I would call him to do the work. He left his card. We eventually called him, sometime after Elizabeth came home. When he got to the house, he said, “You know. I was so impressed when I came here. I just felt like I was on sacred ground. There was a very special feeling at your home.” Despite what had happened, we never felt our home had any evilness in it. Happiness does not stem from wickedness.
Chapter 12
Faith is something greater than ourselves that enables us to do what we said we will do. To press forward when we are tired or hurt or afraid. To keep going when the challenge seems overwhelming and the course is uncertain.
—GORDON B. HINCKLEY
THE SUNDAY AFTER Elizabeth's kidnapping, Ed's sister Cynthia stood in front of the news cameras and said, “The person who has Elizabeth was confused. He cares for her and doesn't know what to do. The solution is to put your feelings aside and send Elizabeth back to where she feels most at home. Let her walk out to a public place where people will recognize her.” This request would later become a strange and frightening reality. Our family had been praying that the heart of Elizabeth's abductor(s) would be softened. Every day during family prayer, each of us would individually pray for the safe return of Elizabeth. Our youngest son, William, wasn't able to pronounce the word abductor, so he prayed that the conductor would let Elizabeth go. His innocence was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise horrible situation.
The search center had a plethora of volunteers that Sunday morning, who arrived in droves as the day went on. Later that night, five hundred people gathered for a candlelight vigil to pray for Elizabeth as a community at Liberty Park. We drew some comfort from being with those people who came out to show their support of our family. Support was much needed, as Ed had faced yet another test of his word earlier that day. Police had subjected him to an intense four-hour lie detector test. Since we knew he had nothing to hide, he agreed to the test despite his already frazzled state of mind. It was four hours of torture, but the flickering candlelight during Elizabeth's vigil brought a sense of peace to us after a very long, hard day and week. As the sun set behind Liberty Park, Ed offered a prayer for Elizabeth. We could hear weeping coming from the gathered crowd. The love and support we felt was overwhelming.
The Elizabeth Smart Search Center was originally set up at the Shriner's Hospital, but the constant flood of volunteers turned out to be too much for the hospital. Arrangements were made to move the center across the street to the Federal Heights Ward, where it would be held for about a month. Later the center would move to Lois's brother's office, and then again to Ed's brother David's home, where it would reside for the remainder of the search.
Tom, like Ed, had also been considered a suspect, as were Ed's other brothers, David and Chris. Each of the brothers played a crucial role in the search. Tom's polygraph was inconclusive, but eventually he was cleared from suspicion, as were David and Chris. The Smart brothers were offended at being singled out as suspects, yet, interestingly enough, the police never went to the trouble of interviewing their wives to ask for alibis. They methodically questioned male members of both the Smart and Francom families, but only the Smart brothers were subjected to polygraph tests. Were we beginning to feel resentful of the focus on the extended Smart family? Yes. Of course. Absolutely. But, as always, we would have done anything for Elizabeth. If this is what we had to endure to turn the focus on the real perpetrator, we were willing participants.
The next possible break in the case was when police announced they had identified the driver of a strange car that had been seen cruising our neighborhood two days before Elizabeth was kidnapped. Charlie had been our neighborhood milkman for quite some time, so he took note in the early-morning hours of June 3 when he saw an unfamiliar car driving slowly up and down our street. As he passed the car, Charlie waved to the driver in greeting and felt it was strange when the driver didn't reciprocate the gesture. The attitude and actions of the driver made Charlie nervous, because other milkmen had been robbed in the area. As a precaution, he scribbled down the license plate information as best as he could make out. After hearing the news of Elizabeth's disappearance, Charlie called the police to report what he had witnessed two days before the abduction—either a Nissan or a Honda with a driver who was short and wearing a white cap. The plate number he had recorded did not have a match in the Utah database, but the police believed that the first three numbers were nonetheless correct.
At the candlelight vigil for Elizabeth on Sunday night, police almost caught the mysterious driver by chance when people in the crowd complained about a man who was drinking beer and acting strangely. The police failed to reach the man across the crowd before he got away, but they discovered that he drove off in a green, four-door Saturn with plates bearing the assumed correct three digits Charlie had provided. Days later, a little boy found the plate from this car discarded near a baseball field next to a major roadway about fifteen miles from Salt Lake City. The plate, numbered 266-XJH, had been reported stolen. With this evidence, police were able to identify this person as Bret Michael Edmunds. Edmunds had two outstanding warrants and a history of crime. He was wanted on a charge of fraud and for assaulting a police officer. Search dogs even traced his scent into one of the canyons where searches for Elizabeth had been taking place. But Edmunds didn't fit the description Mary Katherine had given of the man who took Elizabeth. The man she described seeing was five feet eight, six inches shorter than Edmunds.
The following Tuesday, Chief Dinse gave a press conference in which he expressed the feeling that the investigation was advancing. Acknowledging that they did not yet have a clear suspect, he added, “We believe that it is possible that we have already talked to or will soon talk to the suspect that is responsible for this crime.” They believed the kidnapper was still in the area, and Dinse addressed a warning directly to him, “We are going to get you. And if you've got Elizabeth, you better release her now.”
When police released Edmunds's name to the public the next day, they cautioned that he wasn't a suspect but that they merely wanted to bring him in for questioning. By the time the news went public, Edmunds was leaving Utah. Lead after lead came in, and the search became a cross-country manhunt. As the search for Edmunds continued, the police had their eye on yet another suspect, Richard Ricci. We went to sleep that night feeling like there had been some progress in the case.
The next day, we awoke to a horrifying headline in one of our local papers, The Salt Lake Tribune: “Police Eye Relatives in Probe.” We were horrified and angered to discover that the police again believed the kidnapping had been an inside job. We had been through every test imaginable, and there was no evidence to support the salacious headline. The article pointed the finger at a member of our extended family. It was based on four unnamed sources, all of whom declined to be identified for the article. The article went on to make the claim that the window screen that had been sliced open in our kitchen had been cut from the inside, which suggested
that someone had intentionally cut the screen to allow access to the home, misleading the investigation. The idea was to make the crime look like a break-in. It was later determined that Mitchell cut the screen and entered our home through that window—a window investigators believed was too narrow for a man to enter. Ed's brother Chris, who is an average-size man, easily passed through the window when he attempted to prove to investigators that it was possible. The issue of the cut screen remained a point of contention throughout the investigation.
We were certain of one thing: Someone was purposely leaking information to create these firestorms. Was it the police? Was it an investigator? Why did the Tribune have the story when the Deseret News didn't have any of the same information? Was a conspiracy brewing?
The day the Tribune article ran, our frustration was deepening and Ed's brother David spoke on behalf of the family. David said that we understood the police had a job to do. If they had not investigated the family, they would be remiss in doing their job. However, the time had come to shift that tide. It didn't help that later in the day Chief Dinse said that the police were not eliminating anyone at that point.
Mary Katherine should have been a key element in satisfying police that a family member was not responsible for Elizabeth's kidnapping. If she had recognized someone, she would have spoken up. She had been extremely forthcoming about the details she remembered from that night. We decided to issue a public statement challenging the Tribune article. It was highly speculative and was diverting the public focus and attention from the ultimate goal—finding Elizabeth. Lois's brother publicly concurred that the family put no credence in the story.
