Losing The Girl Next Door

Christy Ann Fornoff was only 13.

One spring day she went out to collect subscription money for her newspaper route and never came back.

A sick, sick man is to blame.

Donald Beaty.

That’s the first time I’ve been able to write that name. Ever. The name of the man who killed my classmate: Donald Beaty.

Suddenly it is Arizona, 1983. I am struggling through a crowded hallway that smells like the locker rooms it houses. Everything about me is wrong. My haircut is boyish. My clothes are painfully uncool. I scan the metal plates at the top of lockers, looking for the one that matches the number written on my class schedule.

When I arrive, a darling blond girl with dimples glimpses shyly at me from her locker, a few doors down. I feel like a toad. She’s really, really pretty. She’s also the very first person at Connolly Junior High to be nice to me.

I find out she’s new, too. I tell her we just moved here from Ohio. She says her family just came from New York. The bell rings. We go our separate ways.

I saw Christy a lot that year, the way you do in junior high. We weren’t close friends; I had my clique, she had hers. But through an administrative twist of fate, we found ourselves side by side several times a day.

We complained about being stuck in the “uncool” locker block, chatted about homework and complimented each other’s shoes. She watched me pine for the boy whose locker was across the hall. She loaned me notebook paper and more than one pen. She was a fixture in my daily routine.

Then one day she wasn’t.

While I was in English class, Christy was lying dead in a closet.

The afternoon before, Donald Beaty had pulled her into his apartment and raped her. To keep her from screaming he covered her mouth. She choked to death on her own vomit. Her mother was just steps away, talking to a neighbor. Carol Fornoff had gone with Christy on her route that day—to be sure her daughter was safe.

It happened that fast.

It happened that fast.

In the space of one brief conversation, a child was murdered; A family was devastated, a community was traumatized.

Two days later, Donald Beaty wrapped Christy’s body in a sheet and placed her behind one of the Dumpsters at the apartment complex. He was arrested shortly thereafter.

Next week he is scheduled to die for the crime.

Unfortunately, his absence from this planet can’t make up for the hell he caused while he was here. He destroyed the sense of optimism that had defined our community. He stole the innocence of an entire generation. He made it impossible for any one of us—parents and children alike—to ever really feel safe again.

In literal terms, Christy’s death was long ago and far away, but it will always be there —in the way I love a little more openly, appreciate life a little bit more and never, ever take the well-being of my family and friends for granted.

I know that someday my daughter will be 13, and that she will go places without me.

And no matter how much I try to protect her, there are evils in this life that even a mother’s watchful eye cannot eradicate. Ask Carol Fornoff.

I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately.

For the first time in 25 years, the thought of Christy’s death invokes in me a whole different kind of fear—the kind only a mother knows.

Now, when I envision Christy, her locker swung open, a smile on her face, I see Sonia. Now when I glimpse a photo of Donald Beaty, the hatred and resentment I feel goes so much deeper.

There are far too many Donald Beatys in the world, which equals far too many Christys. And far too many Carols, left to cope with every mother’s worst nightmare.

And it can happen that fast.

So please, as summer approaches, take an hour to really talk to your kids about strangers. Be honest with them about the threats that exist beyond the safety of your home. Set boundaries. Require them to travel in groups. Make them aware of places and people to avoid.

It’s not paranoid. It’s good parenting.

Because it can happen that fast.

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Amy Lynn Glor encourages parents to know their neighborhood. Visit www.pameganslaw.state.pa.us for a map, address list and photos of all registered sex offenders in your area.

Editor's note: This column previously appeared in the Dormont-Brookline Patch.