The Touching Tale of a Tiny Traveler

She Flies High

By Aunt Kami & Uncle Rafa:

If you've been reading these updates you already know the story of Amirah — of how she was so loved and cared for as she grew inside her mother's belly. Of how she was tragically stolen from her parents and family before we had the chance to see the person she would become.

What you don't yet know is that so much went on after our loss, and so much continues to happen in Dusty and Rachael's fight for justice.

Dusty and Rachael wanted to have an autopsy performed on Amirah as soon as they realized without one they would never have answers as to why she died. They needed to know for sure that they were being told the truth, especially since they were being given conflicting information from the midwives and county medical examiner. They were denied an autopsy in Josephine County. A search for a forensic pathologist ensued, successfully finding one in Washington.

They were talking about driving up (8 hours each direction, at least), if that’s what it would take to have Amirah examined. This seemed like way too much to put on their plate only a week after losing their daughter. Rachael was still healing physically, and they were both dealing with a level of grief that most people will never know in a lifetime.

My husband and I own a small airplane (a Piper Cherokee), and offered to fly our niece to Washington for the autopsy. My brother seemed so relieved, and it felt like there was something tangible we could do for them — a blessing.

We coordinated with the funeral director, who had never done anything like this before. We made sure everything was legal and safe before setting a date and time of departure. The funeral home was so accommodating and kind — we could tell through the entire process that this particular loss had truly touched their hearts.

My husband and I arrived at the Grants Pass airport as the sun was rising. We needed to leave early, because the flight up to Washington was going to take at least 6 hours round trip (not all planes fly fast!)

When we arrived, the funeral director helped us transfer a custom-made carrying case into the backseat of our plane. This case contained the body of little baby Amirah. The director had purchased a special blanket to wrap around the case. You've all heard of the term "precious cargo" — It was never more relevant than it was that day.

I can't really describe the flight in terms that anyone could understand. What I can tell you about is the emotion. The air in the cockpit felt thick, dense with strong, mixed emotions. We felt the grief deeply, but we also felt as though we were giving Amirah something truly special- a final farewell flying over the beauty of Oregon terrain.

We love flying, and we were able to take the vessel that once carried our baby niece on a last adventure. That may seem silly to some, but that is how we felt. When we explained it to Dusty and Rachael, they understood and thought it was a beautiful sentiment. I kept breaking into tears throughout the flight, then reminding myself that I had the duty of a pilot-in-command and must remain level headed. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever done. I was so thankful to have my husband, who is also a pilot, sitting next to me for support. 

Once on the ground, we met with a man who worked for the forensic pathologist that Dusty and Rachael had found to conduct the autopsy. He was very kind and took great care with the case as he transferred it to his car. He told us it would be a few hours and he would call us when he was on his way back. His job was to safely deliver Amirah's body to the pathologist and then to return her to us.

To be honest, my memory fades after that. I know we called Dusty and Rachael several times with status updates. I know we tried to eat. We re-fueled the plane. We cried. It was overwhelming, but we also felt numb.

We had felt a sense of purpose on the outbound flight, knowing we were taking action and doing something to make a difference. At the very least we knew we were doing something that would bring a bit of emotional relief to my brother and sister-in-law. But on the way home there was nothing but sadness and defeat. We knew that we couldn't do anything else to make the pain go away except for be there for each other and keep her spirit alive.

When we landed back in Grants Pass, the funeral director came to retrieve Amirah's body. We gently took the case out of the plane, and he slid it into his backseat, securing it with the seat-belt. He started to close the door, but before he could, I squeaked out a sob and asked if he could give me a moment. I didn't think I would have another chance to truly say goodbye. He gave my husband and me a moment alone and we did our best to say goodbye to the little girl that we would never get the chance to know.