U.S. hostage's Arizona hometown reeling once again
A sign asking people to pray for Kayla Mueller, an Islamic State held Arizona aid worker, is posted in downtown Prescott, Ariz., on Saturday, Feb. 7, 2015.(Photo: Cheryl Evans, The Arizona Republic)PRESCOTT, Ariz. — The news that a young woman from Prescott, Ariz., is missing, taken hostage 18 months ago by terrorists with the Islamic State, seems inconceivable to a community still reeling from the deaths of 19 wildland firefighters not long ago.In summer 2013, the Granite Mountain Hotshots, a city-run wildfire crew, were overrun by the nearby Yarnell Hill Fire.Just a few weeks later, in August, Kayla Mueller — who had graduated from high school in Prescott and from college in Flagstaff, Ariz., before devoting herself to international humanitarian work — was snatched from a street in Aleppo, Syria. She was held by the group known as the Islamic State.But few people knew it until now.For all those months, as Prescott publicly mourned, quarreled and struggled to accept the loss of its firefighters, Mueller's parents kept their secret close.Government officials and some friends knew, but publicity, they feared, would put their daughter at even greater risk.Then, on Friday, ISIL issued claims that she was dead, killed by a Jordanian air strike.The claims have not been verified, and Mueller's family and friends she collected across Arizona's high country quietly hoped for better news.But the refrain of unthinkable tragedy — and the attention that has returned to this quiet town at the foot of the mountains — is jarring."The motto for Prescott is 'Everybody's hometown,' and that's truly the way it is," said Kathy Thomas, hiking the winding roads of Thumb Butte with her husband and golden retriever on Saturday. "This town rallies around its people. We saw that a lot when the firefighters were killed. That was quite a blow to the community."Now, she's wary of what awaits in town. News crews have intruded once more, Thomas said, lining up outside the sheriff's roadblock in the Mueller family's neighborhood, and interviewing residents across the downtown square."The family's asked for privacy," Thomas said. "The people I've talked to today are a little offended. ... It feels like (the family is) not getting what they've asked for."Dan Parker, a retired fire captain and the father of Wade Parker, one of the fallen hotshots, said Saturday that the community has suffered more than its share of sorrow."My wife and I were just talking about that," he said, speaking by phone from his home in Chino Valley. "We've had so many heartbreaking tragedies to deal with."Besides the Yarnell Hill Fire, Parker said, the city felt anguish when a police officer was killed in December in Flagstaff. The suspect, who then committed suicide, was from Prescott. Then in January the city had a triple-murder case. Now this."It's been a tough road for Prescott," Parker said.In the town square on a warm Saturday afternoon, residents played in the grass with children or passed by with dogs on leashes.Planted on one corner was a handmade sign decorated with a sprig of pink daisies."Pray for Kayla," it said simply.Unlike the crush of makeshift memorials that overtook fences and roadsides after the firefighters' deaths, this one sign remained the only visible reaction so far — the only attempt to pit words and symbols against a situation that remains unresolved.Many residents reacted Saturday in shock when told the ISIL hostage they've heard about is from Prescott — her story has been kept under wraps for so many months.And the secrecy continues. Carl and Marsha Mueller pleaded with ISIL late Friday to speak with them privately about their daughter's whereabouts.At a coffee shop near the square, part-time Prescott residents Howard Markson and his wife, Carol Farmer Markson, say the uncertainty of the situation heightens the anguish for her parents and the community. The Marksons are psychotherapists who specialize in post-traumatic stress disorder.Carol Farmer Markson said the community was traumatized by the firefighter deaths, and now the national angst over Islamic State terrorism has come close to a very small town."People have an incredible amount of anxiety and sense of powerlessness (about ISIL). People don't know what to do with their anger. ... And then it comes down to a local level," she said. "(ISIL) is far away. But it's not far away when you've got a local girl that is in that situation. It brings it right home."She thinks allowing residents to talk about it is important, however."Telling a story is part of processing trauma," she said. And for the Mueller family, keeping their story hidden has probably been "unbearable.""The longer a trauma goes on, the more complex it becomes," she said. "The protracted traumas are the hardest to get past."In Prescott, the community encircled the hotshot family, and it now seems to encircle the Mueller family, a protective shield that keeps those inside apart from prying eyes.A handful of close friends have kept the family's secret for months. Kiwanis Club and school representatives have been appointed spokespeople and yet stayed nearly silent.But what has rung loud and clear is the memory of Kayla Mueller.Family friends tell of Mueller's kind heart toward outcasts in high school and her charity work in multiple countries after graduation from Northern Arizona University.She traveled to India and then worked with African refugees in Israel. She came home and volunteered at a homeless shelter and an HIV/AIDS clinic, before moving to the south of France to learn the language so she could work with refugees. She was in Syria at a hospital the night before she was kidnapped.Violet Tuminello, 68, a retired Prescott resident who heard about Mueller on the news, noted the aid worker's young age."She had her whole life ahead and was trying to help," said Tuminello. "She was very brave to go over there. ... I just wish there was more peace on earth."Just past the city's northern edge, where dry foothills climb gradually above the valley and Thumb Butte — a heart of solid granite — rises in the distance, sheriff's deputies had staked out the sole road that leads to the Mueller's home. Only residents got in or out.Last SlideNext SlideA few close friends said they had spent time with Carl and Marsha Mueller in recent days, and promised to talk later, but would stay quiet for now.Todd Geiler, a leader at the Kiwanis Club of Prescott, who is close with the family, spoke of their daughter's passion on the night the news broke."She had a purpose and a sense of direction. She knew what she was about," Geiler said.He echoed the same things others had said about her — bright and articulate, passionate and empathetic — but Geiler added one thing more. For a young woman now missing on the far side of the world, he could think only to compare her to the land where she was raised."Maybe you saw Thumb Butte on the way in?" Geiler asked. "That's how big her heart was."Contributing: Megan Cassidy, Shaun McKinnon and Richard Ruelas, The Arizona Republic.Dean Smith, college coaching legend, dies at 83Feb 08, 2015
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