We don't know her real name. Somebody, somewhere does, but they don't know what happened to her. They don't know that her body was discovered, face-down and horribly tortured, on November 1, 1980. They don't know. They might think she left her family and started a happy life for herself. She has no family that knows to mourn her, and that is so tragic.
In two days, it'll be thirty five years. Thirty five years since she perished, since she lost her life much too young.
It breaks my heart that she has been buried underneath a simple grave reading "Unknown White Female." I long for the day that her grave can read her full name.
Until then, until that day when she gets her name back, she will be Ruthie Doe to me.
At first, I started calling her that because she simply looked like a Ruthie to me, and I felt as if she needed a name. I then remembered that Ruthie is a Biblical name. It also means "friend" or "companion". I feel assured that she has friends from her life, that she was somebody's companion, and that they never forgot her. I imagine it being a case like Tammy Jo Alexander's, when a report was filed by family, but not taken seriously by agencies because she was a young runaway.
I know that she was never forgotten, even if by people who never knew her. All this time, people have been remembering her, constantly searching for her identity. And, one day, I pray for two things: her name and that of her killer. She needs to be brought home to her family, and her killer needs to never see daylight again.
Until that day, she is just known as the "Unknown White Female" who died on November 1, 1980.
May she rest in peace.