Normal. Ordinary. Happy.
That's how Sept. 17, 1984, started out for the Carlson and Hoskinson families.
Debbie Carlson, 29, worked in the food industry. Her husband, George, worked for 7-Up bottling company. The kids kept them busy — Debbie's daughters, Stephanie, 11, and Vicki, 8, George's daughter, Carie, 10, and their son, Brian, 3.
There were softball games and car races to go to, sleepovers, camping trips.
Everything changed that afternoon though, forever.
Vicki went out to mail a letter on her bike and never came home.
Debbie became a big-time victims' rights advocate, quit her job and went to work with the Pima County Sheriff's Department in a couple of different capacities.
George left the bottling industry and became a corrections officer at the Pima County jail.
They watched the rest of their children grow up, not wanting them to live in fear, but wanting them to always be vigilant.
"I always swore none of my children would ever have a bike again," Debbie recently told me. "it was the hardest thing I ever had to do was go buy my son his first bike."
Now, nearly 28 years after Vicki disappeared, Debbie has five grandchildren, the oldest of whom is the same age Stephanie was when her sister disappeared.
Medically retired, Carlson no longer keeps up the hectic schedule she set for herself back in the '80s and '90s. However, she still does interviews about the never-ending appeals by the man who murdered Vicki and she has made sure Isabel Celis' parents know she is willing to meet with them.
"I'm not going to say it's been easy, but all in all I think we've done really well," Debbie said. "We had a strong, grounded family prior to that and that helped."
Vicki is never far from the family's thoughts.
Both Debbie and Stephanie have tons of Vicki's photos up on their Facebook pages, they talk about Aunt Vicki all of the time and each strongly believes Vicki is nearby.
Debbie believes pennies are Vicki's gift to her from Heaven.
Just last year, she was going through a foot locker filled with some of Vicki's belongings when a penny fell out of Vicki's Strawberry Shortcake purse.
She'd decided to divide Vicki's belongings up between her siblings and Vicki sent her the penny, Debbie said.
She saves every one in a special place, Debbie said.
Stephanie has had similar experiences. She was having a particularly tough day last year when she came across her favorite picture of herself and Vicki in an unexpected place. The two of them are sitting in the back of a boat, foreheads touching.
Stephanie and Vicki were just under three years apart in age. They were best of friends who played softball together and they slept in the same bed right up until Vicki disappeared.
The year Vicki disappeared was the first time the girls hadn't gone to the same school. Stephanie had just started middle school.
Now 38, Stephanie only has to look at her daughters, ages 4 and 9, to be reminded of her sister.
"They both remind me of her. The way they look, the way they smile, my youngest, in particular, has a fairly striking resemblance to Vicki," Stephanie said. "They are my gifts from her to me."
Stephanie knew in the 7th grade she one day wanted to write a book about Vicki, but until recently couldn't bring herself to start it.
"It's been very taxing," Stephanie said. "I'll write a little bit and put it down and write some more and put it down."
At first, she was going to write a factual account of what happened when Vicki disappeared, but after talking with various family members and friends, she's come to realize just how big of an impact Vicki had on people in her short life. She wants to write about that.
"It's been so rewarding to talk to people about it because I can only see it through my eyes," Stephanie said. "I don't think we'll every know how many people she touched through her life and her death."
She only writes when it feels healthy and right, Stephanie said.
"I would love to publish it, but it might take 20 years to do and that's OK," Stephanie said.
Stephanie said she tries not to think of the man who killed Vicki too much, but she did testify before Montana's house judiciary committee which was considering abolishing the death penalty three years ago. The measure failed.
"The more space I give him in my head, the more happiness he takes," Stephanie said. "I will not allow him to take anything more from me. It's already a shame he takes up space by living and breathing."
"It's disgusting. There aren't enough words to describe how angry it makes me (that he's still alive)," Stephanie said. "I know in the big scheme of things he's got somebody much bigger to answer than me, though."
If you want to know more about where things stand with Vicki's killer, check out my story in today's Star. It's a print exclusive.
