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I just got back
from spending some time with Ketih Hull. He took me out to the fence where
Matt was murdered. We heard from Rebecca that the fence had been taken
down, but it was actually only moved and there were long stretches of
fences that had been built to keep off trespassers next to the original
ones. We walked the dirt road for about a half-mile. The location isn't
too far from civilization in Laramie, but its far enough away that it
feels quiet and secluded. Keith explained that Aaron would have known
about the area from living in an apartment complex near by. We could see
the efforts that the property owners had made to keep people away- heaps
of dirt blocking easy access to the road up to the fence. There were also
signs of life on the trail, antelope droppings and holes for ground squirrels.
It didn't feel to me like a place where Matt had been murdered, almost
unimaginable that he had died here in an area marked by hiking and biking
trails and a few ranch houses that had sprung up since 1998. I didn't
want to process the murder either- it's too difficult to think about the
isolation he must have felt, the pain he felt that night. I reluctantly
took pictures. I wanted them but I also felt guilty about treating it
like some tourist attraction. I don't feel much like a tourist anymore.
I've made too many personal connections to the people here to feel like
a complete outsider. And already I'm frustrated like Laramie residents
because there just isn't much to do for fun here. I took a rock from the
road with me, my piece of Laramie to hold on to and remember. |
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