ATHENS, Ga.—There’s a page in Meredith Emerson’s tattered journal that lists her favorite things in life, with typical topics such as friends, family and Jesus.
And then there are the items that offer a deeper glimpse into the life of the spunky, spirited 24-year-old whose death galvanized a community: Cookies. Candles. A warm bed. Children who wave just because.
“Even if you knew her for a few minutes,” said friend Isaac Wolf, “you knew the real Meredith.”
Emerson was killed three days after she was kidnapped on a New Year’s Day hike in the north Georgia mountains, authorities say. Hundreds of volunteers searched in vain for her body, but tips led police to arrest Gary Michael Hilton, a 61-year-old charged with her murder.
Hilton could also face charges in the death of Cheryl Hodges Dunlap, who was found in December in a national forest in Florida, said State Attorney Willie Meggs. He said he probably has enough evidence to pursue charges, but would not say whether he would do so.
Little was said at the memorial service Friday of Emerson’s dark final days. Instead, through the sniffles of the hundreds of mourners packing the Central Presbyterian Church in Athens, the story of a talented and creative young woman unfolded.
She was born in South Carolina, but her family moved to Raleigh, N.C. and eventually to Longmont, Colo. But she longed to return to the South after high school, and decided to attend college at the University of Georgia for its business program.
Her interest in the major soon faded—she would drop it in favor of French—but it seemed a rare moment when she lost her passion for something.
She was a poet, a writer, an adventurer who longed for time outdoors almost as much as she did for time with family. She was a classical music lover with a penchant for singing off-key—at least during road trips. She was a devoted friend who once showed up at a weekly girls’ night covered with stings from a tangle with an angry beehive.
She was a budding martial arts expert, so much so that her instructor gave her family an honorary belt, saying Emerson would have surely attained it. Her sense of humor was sharp, and her attitude could be, too. “My parents asked me to describe her,” Wolf said. “All I could think of: She’s a firecracker.”
And she was an animal lover who treated friends’ pets as her own. Even her faithful dog Ella couldn’t be left out of the memorial—she was waiting in a garden outside the chapel, tail wagging as Emerson’s friends lined up.
“I don’t think Meredith would want any of us to be permanently embittered by what happened,” said Jason Emerson, a cousin. “I think she would want us to see the light in the darkness.”
He tried to read a note from Emerson’s parents, but broke down in tears before he could finish. That’s when Sue Emerson solemnly walked to the podium and, fighting tears, read it aloud herself.
“We see Meredith’s light reflected in all of you,” she told the mourners, many who were wearing green in honor of her daughter’s favorite color. “And we know it far outweighs all the darkness that’s invaded our lives.”
As the service came to a close, snapshots of Emerson’s life flashed across a screen, images of celebrations and ceremonies, road trips and reunions, hikes and holidays. And at the end of the slideshow, all that remained on the screen were words taken from the cover of one of Emerson’s journals.
“On being me: My highs are high, my lows are low. But all in all, it’s a pretty sweet gig.”
———
Associated Press Writer Dave Royse in Tallahassee, Fla. contributed to this report.
