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## Closing: The Bus Stop and the Name
On June 10, 1991, Jaycee Lee Dugard left her house in Meyers, California, wearing a pink outfit and carrying a backpack. She was walking to the school bus stop at the end of her street. She was eleven years old.
The world she was walking through that morning was one she expected to return to by afternoon. She expected the bus, and school, and the afternoon. She expected her mother would be there when she got home. She had eleven years of a life behind her that included those expectations as a matter of ordinary fact—the ordinary fact that a child walks to a bus stop in the morning and the world, being mostly safe, delivers her back in the afternoon.
The car that came for her ended that expectation. The three-hour drive to Antioch began eighteen years in which the world she had expected did not exist for her. She had a different life—circumscribed, coerced, materially present in the form of a compound behind a fence on Walnut Avenue, but not the life she had been walking toward.
She came back to the world as an adult on August 27, 2009, in circumstances that no amount of foresight in 1991 could have predicted: identified the day before in a parole office after a campus permit request brought her daughters into contact with a special events manager who found them unsettling and made a call.
The campus encounter happened because Phillip Garrido, in the summer of 2009, had become increasingly confident in his ability to seek public audiences for his religious ideas. It happened because Lisa Campbell had a professional background that made her more attentive to specific details of the encounter than she might otherwise have been. It happened because Ally Jacobs ran a background check and found a discrepancy and made a call. It happened because the parole office received information that didn’t fit the file.