Biker Found the Missing Girl Everyone Else Had Given Up Looking For

When he noticed something that everyone else had missed for six days, the biker pulled over.

It wasn’t intended for 64-year-old Taylor “Ghost” Morrison to be traveling alone through the Colorado mountains on that specific gravel route.

He had taken a false turn while searching for the freeway because his GPS had died.

However, six days after the entire state had given up looking for her, that false turn would save the life of 8-year-old Tina David.

The purple backpack was forty feet below the road, just barely visible in the gulf. This location had been driven past by every search team. All the helicopters had come over.

However, Ghost observed what no one else had from a Harley traveling at thirty miles per hour under the ideal morning sun: little handprints on the dusty rock face that led downward.

For forty-three years, he had been riding, through Vietnam, his divorce, and the loss of his son. But nothing had prepared him for what he’d find at the bottom of that valley.

Tina was curled up next to her mother’s body, who had perished protecting her from the collision, breathing while being unconscious.

The news had been filled with the story. While visiting colleges where Linda may teach, Dr. Linda David and her daughter Tina vanished.

On the main highway, their car was discovered abandoned with no indication of their whereabouts or signs of struggle. With suspicion of kidnapping, the FBI became involved. Everyone thought the worst.

Five hundred square miles had been searched. Every trail had been traversed by volunteers. The official search was canceled six days later. Other disasters had taken over the news.

Ghost, however, was not observing the news. Every year on the anniversary of his son Danny’s death in Afghanistan, he went on his yearly solo ride.

Danny, a 19-year-old Marine, was murdered by an IED while assisting with a school evacuation. In order to grieve, remember, and feel connected to his boy, Ghost rode.

There were tiny, desperate handprints on the rock. Where someone had attempted to ascend, failed, and then tried again, Ghost could see.

His 64-year-old knees protested with each step as he descended, his arthritis screaming. However, it could have been Danny calling him forward with those handprints.

Tina was covered in her mother’s jacket, which resembled a tent.

She’d survived on the water bottles and snacks from their car, rationing them like her mother had taught her before she died.

The reality was revealed by Linda’s body; she had been hurt in the collision, rescued Tina to a semblance of safety, and spent her remaining power to keep her daughter warm.

Ghost checked Tina’s pulse and muttered, “Hey, little one.” It was constant but weak. “I’ll make sure you leave.”

Tina opened her eyes a little. “Are you… Are you a police officer?

“No, my love. I simply got lost while riding a bike.

If we were to part ways, Mommy advised us to look for someone who resembled a father. You look like somebody’s daddy.”

Ghost’s throat constricted. Indeed. Yeah, I was somebody’s daddy.”

He almost died on the ascent back up. At his age, it should have been impossible to carry Tina up a 40-foot ravine, even though she weighed maybe 50 pounds. Nevertheless, Ghost carried it out, one handhold at a time, Tina clinging to his back as Danny would when he was riding on a horse.

Tina continued repeating, “My mommy is sleeping.” She has been asleep for a while. She assured me that someone would show up if I had courage. Angels would send someone, she said.

Ghost exclaimed, “Your mommy was right,” and dragged them both out onto the street.

Tina required medical attention right away, and his bike had no cell reception. She was dehydrated, maybe hypothermic, and had a visibly fractured arm that she hadn’t even complained about. After putting her on the bike, Ghost covered her with his leather jacket.

“Have you ever been a motorcycle rider?”

Tina gave a feeble shake of her head.

“Well, you will now. And we’ll move quickly to get you assistance. You hug me close, don’t you?

“Like giving a hug?”

“Just like a hug.”

Ghost had never been a more cautious driver. He considered the priceless cargo clinging to his waist at every turn. Every acceleration, he felt her hold tighten. Her mother must have sung her a song, because she was humming it.

The closest town is twenty miles away. When Ghost brought Tina inside the petrol station, the attendant dropped the phone.

“Dial 911,” Ghost commanded. Tina David is this person. The girl who went missing. She is still alive.

“But… but they stopped looking,” the attendant stumbled.

“Well, no,” Ghost replied plainly. “Make the fucking call now.”

Chaos ensued. FBI agents, police, and EMTs. Everyone was curious as to how, where, and why. Ghost told them about Linda’s body, drew them a map, and saw Tina being taken to Denver Children’s Hospital.

One FBI agent remarked, “You are a hero.”

Ghost gave a headshake. “I’m just a man who made a mistake at the right moment.”

However, the narrative took off. When everyone else gave up, a biker discovered the missing girl. The little Denver apartment where Ghost lived was surrounded by news teams. His phone kept ringing. To offer safety and support, the Savage Sons MC, his former club with which he had cut ties when Danny passed away, arrived.

Simply put, “Brother, you need us,” remarked Tank, his former president. “That child was saved by you. Let us assist you in handling this circus.

What transpired at the hospital was unexpected. Tina held onto Ghost’s leather jacket tightly. She was unable to get it away from the nurses. “It smells like the angel who saved me,” she insisted.

A visit from Ghost was recommended by child psychologist Dr. Patricia Reeves. She has experienced trauma. You serve as her safety net. She must realize that you are genuine.

Since Danny’s death at a hospital, Ghost had stayed away from them. But he went for Tina.

In the hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and equipment, she was minuscule. For the first time since her rescue, she smiled when she saw him.

“You returned!”

“Did I not say I would?”

“Isn’t Mommy truly gone now?” Tina whispered.

Ghost took a seat next to her bed and held her small hand in his big one. Yes, dear. She is.

“She kept me alive.” When we collided, she protected me with her body. When we stopped falling, Mommy grabbed me and hugged me, but I wasn’t wounded. The automobile had gone off the road due to the deer. I was freed by her. I got all the food and drink from her. She sang to me till she was unable to continue.

Ghost’s eyes blazed. “Your mother was a brave woman.”

“As you do?”

“No, young one. You were just discovered by me. You were saved by your mother.

That evening, Susan David, Tina’s grandma, came from San Francisco. She was a small woman of perhaps seventy-five who gazed at Ghost with sorrowful and appreciative eyes.

“They say you carried her up after climbing down a ravine.”

“Madam, I—”

“My daughter knew Tina would be discovered even though she was by herself when she passed away. She believed. You were the answer to faith.

Susan produced a picture. Linda was dressed in military garb. She was in the Army. An Iraqi physician. She always claimed that the most compassionate people were typically the toughest-looking. She would have been appreciative that you located Tina.

Ghost was a constant in Tina’s recuperation during the ensuing weeks. His gravelly voice softened for children’s books when he read them to her. She learned card games from him. He attended her physical rehabilitation sessions, her mother’s funeral, and her nightmares.

Tina invited Ghost to speak at the service for Linda. This fierce old motorcyclist in his only suit stood at the stage and said:

“Dr. Linda David was unknown to me. But I am aware of her actions. She saved her daughter in her final moments, wounded and dying. She positioned herself to absorb the force. She gave Tina her last breath of warmth, her jacket, food, and water. That love isn’t limited to mothers. That is the sacrifice of a warrior

.

Tina insisted on using Ghost’s bike to get to the graveyard. One young girl’s final voyage with her mother was protected by 47 motorcyclists and the entire Savage Sons MC. The picture of a young girl wearing a pink dress riding a Harley while being followed by tough bikers went viral.

Six months later, however, the actual shift occurred. Tina was attending therapy, living with her grandmother, and gradually getting better. She requested to see Ghost for a crucial matter.

She declared, “I want to learn to ride.”

Susan objected, “You’re eight years old.”

Tina firmly said, “Dirt bikes.” Ghost promised to teach me when I grew up. I’d like to get started, though. My mother would want me to have courage.

Ghost gave Susan a look. “A junior motocross program is available. incredibly secure. A lot of oversight

“Why?” Tina was asked by Susan.

Everyone was devastated by Tina’s response: “I feel like I’m closer to Mommy when I’m riding Ghost’s bike.” As if she’s still keeping me safe. Additionally, I might be able to locate another lost child in the future. As if Ghost had discovered me.

Tina was hardly able to touch the ground on their first dirt bike. She learned balance, control, and respect for the machine from Ghost, who was there every Saturday. Together, the Savage Sons helped to create the safest learning atmosphere for her.

“What are you doing?” One day, Susan asked Ghost. “You owe us nothing at all.”

Ghost saw Tina’s intensely focused face as she made her way through a little obstacle course. “My son Danny lost his life defending children in Afghanistan.” children he didn’t know and who weren’t under his authority. It was the correct thing for him to do. Danny would be the one to teach Tina and be there for her.

Susan whispered, “You’re giving her back her strength.”

“No, ma’am. She is helping me rediscover my purpose.

It’s been three years. Tina, a skilled junior motocross rider with a shelf full of prizes, is currently eleven years old. More significantly, though, she is now a supporter of reforming search and rescue. She is a small girl with a strong voice who speaks at conferences. She constantly wears Ghost’s jacket, a leather jacket that is too big for her.

“Six days,” she informs viewers. Because one biker took a wrong turn and my mother died to save me, I made it through six days. How many other children are there, waiting for someone to make a mistaken decision?

The same image always appears at the end of her presentations: When she was eight years old, she was standing next to Ghost and his Harley, both of them covered in dust from the ravine, her wearing his jacket, and he was staring at her as if she were the most valuable thing in the world.

Six states now use the David-Morrison Search Protocol, which was named after Linda and Ghost. For difficult-to-reach locations, search teams must deploy motorbike riders, realizing that sometimes what you need isn’t sophisticated gear but rather someone moving slowly enough to spot handprints on a rock.

Last year, Tina was formally adopted by Ghost with Susan’s approval. Two hundred bikers, all inspired by his narrative and having joined search and rescue teams, attended the ceremony.

Tina told the judge in her adoption statement, “You saved me.”

“No, child,” Ghost answered. “We each saved the other.”

Tina and Ghost ride together every Sunday now days. He rides his Harley and she rides her junior bike as they slowly navigate the mountain roads, constantly keeping an eye out for any indicators that others could overlook. In the last year, they have located one fugitive teen and three hikers who went missing.

Now, Tina is wearing a patch that the Savage Sons prepared especially for her: “Junior Member – Angel Spotter.” Because, as she states, “I learned from Ghost that angels can occasionally ride Harleys and wear leather.” Additionally, there are instances when taking the wrong way is exactly where you should be.

Fresh flowers are placed on Linda David’s tomb once a week. They are consistently brought by various bikers, both male and female, who have never met her but who are aware of love, sacrifice, and the erratic nature of grace.

What about Ghost? He now keeps a picture in his wallet. Not only of Danny, but also of Tina. He refers to them as his two children. One who taught him the value of sacrifice and the fact that God occasionally grants you another opportunity at fatherhood.

Even if it begins with someone else’s worst day of their lives taking a terrible turn.