Word: tomming
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Tom's world was about to collapse--he surely knew Ethan would tell all when faced by menacing prosecutors--but few knew why. Tom and Ethan had told almost no one about the full scope of their extracurriculars. Tom wanted to run, but Jenny begged him to stay for the prom the next night. It was a heart-wrenching, five-hour conversation. Tom was obviously in big trouble, but Jenny didn't know how much. In the end, Tom went to the prom, though friends say he and Jenny looked miserable the whole night...
...Tom vanished after that, for months. He stayed in Portland mostly, sleeping at a friend's place or in Washington Park, showering at the Multnomah Athletic Club. There was no plan; he just stayed a step ahead, carrying a bag of his stuff and scraping by on a few bucks here and there. Inexplicably, it took several days for police to issue a warrant for his arrest. So, when his parents and friends helped him at first, they weren't breaking the law. But after the warrant was issued, the cops hunted him with increasing fervor. One time the entire...
...what most tantalized Portlanders about the story, what put it on the front page, was what happened next. Since early in the year, a bunch of Grant kids--upper-middle-class ones mostly, Tom's cohort--had been planning a June trip to Mazatlan, Mexico. Word got out that Tom might go. Authorities talked about sending someone there, but decided against it--they're the local cops, after all, not the FBI. Did they even have jurisdiction...
...Tom did turn up in Mazatlan. He was probably safer there than he had been in Washington Park. He probably took a bus--the last cheap and anonymous transportation left to an American fugitive. He hooked up with three dozen classmates, who had flown down together. Though many had supported him, Tom's presence, for once, was a downer. One girl wouldn't stand next to him in photos, and many just pitied him. When they returned, news of his whereabouts traveled quickly. One tearful girl called a detective directly...
...Tom fled again, this time to Arizona. Short on cash, he applied for a job at the Fountain Cafe in Mesa, using his real name and Social Security number. Working his charm, he befriended the owners, Mike and Gale Moran, who later told reporters they thought Tom was just wonderful. He always took out the trash, liked to wear the red apron, that sort of thing. They let him drive their car, and he was friends with their daughter. "We had no idea," they would later say, over and over...