camp hood

My friend Holly went missing from where she was camping on the Hood River on March 15th. She was last seen with two men she had known conflicts with, and all of her belongings are where she left them.
Oregon Police have not sent out a search party and are going to close the case soon, while a femme of color has disappeared suspiciously.
I am looking for people with Oregon connections, experience contacting media outlets, or search and rescue experience  please contact 

 the @Find Holly Lester page on Facebook, or 

Hood River Police: 541-386-2121

Life Jacket (Calum Hood)

it’s almost summer somewhere ¯\_()_/¯


You were walking toward your cabin, wanting to make sure all of your campers were in the mess hall for dinner, when you saw one of them sitting on the steps. You thought it was a bit weird – you hadn’t seen her when you left the cabin earlier – but you figured she just snuck by you. As you got closer, you could hear her mumbling to herself with a frown on her face. You walked over to the huffing child, noticing a black Crayola marker in her hand, attempting to draw on the side of her arm.

“What are you doing, Mack?” you asked slowly, confused as to why she was drawing on herself. The brunette’s head snapped up and she stared at you with wide eyes.

“I’ll wash it off, honest!” she exclaimed, “I didn’t-”

“Mack,” you chuckled, plopping down on the step beside her, “You’re not in trouble; I just wanted to know why you’re drawing on yourself.”

“Oh,” she sighed in relief. She started chewing on her inner cheek, staring off in front of her. You followed her gaze and noticed the 12-year-old boys’ counselors, Calum, sitting at a picnic table across the lawn. You looked back down at her as she began speaking again. “I want pictures like Cal has,” she told you, “But I can’t draw with my right hand.” You laughed again, standing up.

“I’ll be right back,” you told the 10-year-old, hurrying inside the cabin. You came back out with a damp washcloth, dropping back down.

You took the marker from Mackenzie’s hand and capped it, setting it on your lap before scrubbing the few markings she’d already made. She started to protest, but quickly silenced herself when you put the cloth down, picked the marker back up, and held her arm gently as you began drawing on her skin.

“What are you doing?” she asked, much like you had not even two minutes ago.

“I’m helping,” you stated, concentrating on getting the lettering for Calum’s ‘ALIVE’ tattoo just right.

“But adults are ‘posed to tell you not to draw on yourself,” she said.

“Most of ‘em just say that because they don’t enjoy fun things,” you teased.

“But you’re an adult.”

“But I enjoy fun things,” you said matter-of-factly, “That’s why I spend all of my time with kids.” Mackenzie giggled quietly as you moved up her arm to begin drawing on the bird.

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