She Reached For Her Scooter and Never Came Back
The Story
It was the first day of Thanksgiving break. Michaela Garecht, 9, went to the store for candy. A car door opened. A man grabbed her. For 32 years there were no answers — just a yellow ribbon and a mom’s blog. Then modern tech found a print on the scooter frame. Now the man who took her is in jail. But we still don’t know where Michaela is.
Michaela Joy Garrick was standing in the parking
lot of the Rainbow Market in Hayward, California
on the morning of November 19th 1988 when she
realized she and her friend Katrina had forgotten
their scooters. The first day of Thanksgiving
break had started with such light -hearted energy.
The girls had spent the morning practicing for
their school Christmas pageant and after much
pleading Michaela's mother Sharon had finally
agreed to let them ride the two blocks to the
store for snacks and sodas They had five dollars
in their pockets a gift from Katrina's father
But as they walked away from the market with
their bags of beef jerky and candy They looked
back and saw that one of the scooters was missing
Michaela spotted it just a few spaces down Strangely
tucked behind a car as the nine -year -old bent
down to grab the handlebars The car door flew
open. A man stepped out, wrapped his right arm
around her waist, and shoved her into the back
seat. Katrina watched, frozen, as her best friend's
screams were muffled by the closing door. The
car, a dilapidated tan or gold sedan, sped south
on a mission boulevard. And just like that, Michaela
was gone. The disappearance of Michaela Garrett
would become one of the most haunting cold cases
in the history of the San Francisco Bay Area.
Within 24 hours, sketches of the abductor were
plastered across Northern California. He was
described as a white male in his early 20s, slender,
with shoulder -length dirty blonde hair and a
face deeply scarred by acne. The car was just
as distinct. A large, older American sedan, possibly
an Oldsmobile, missing its hubcaps and splattered
with what looked like dried cement. Despite 5
,000 tips in the first year alone and an investigation
that involved the Hayward Police Department and
the FBI scouring the hillsides by helicopter,
the trail went cold. For decades, Sharon Merch
would keep a yellow ribbon tied to a tree near
that market. She started a blog writing directly
to her daughter. Buying her gifts for birthdays
and graduations, she wasn't there to celebrate.
She bought a Barbie doll for the high school
graduation that never happened and a book titled,
I promise I'll find you for Michaela's 18th birthday.
The community never forgot the girl with the
prominent ears and the feather shaped earrings.
But as the years turned into decades, the hope
of finding her alive began to flicker. The search
for Michaela often felt like a series of cruel
mirages. In 2009, when J .C. Dugard was found
alive after 18 years in captivity, investigators
swarmed the property of her kidnapper, Philip
Guarido. He lived only an hour away and had been
released from prison just months before Michaela
vanished. But no physical evidence linked him
to her. Then in 2012, Attention shifted to the
speed freak killers, Wesley Sherman -Teen and
Loren Herzog. Sherman -Teen, from Death Row,
claimed they had killed Michaela and buried her
in a well. When bone fragments were discovered
in a mass grave in Linden, Sharon Merch braced
herself for the worst. She even took the fragments
home, waiting for the DNA results that would
finally tell her if she was holding her daughter.
But the lab results came back negative. The bones
belonged to someone else. The mystery remained
a gaping wound in the heart of Hayward until
a dedicated cold case unit decided to look back
at the original physical evidence with fresh
eyes and modern technology. In 2020, forensic
investigators returned to the scooter Michaela
had reached for in that parking lot 32 years
earlier. Back in 1988, technicians had managed
to lift a partial palm print and a thumbprint
from the frame. But at the time, there was no
match in the system. With the advancement of
digital scanning and automated fingerprint identification,
a Hayward fingerprint examiner ran the prints
again against a specific list of suspects. This
time, the computer didn't just find a possibility,
it found a hit. The Prince belonged to David
Emery Mish. At the time of the kidnapping, Mish
was 27 years old. He matched the fox -eye description
given by Katrina perfectly. Even more chilling
was the realization of where he had been that
day. Prosecutors later revealed that on November
17th, 1988, just two days before the kidnapping,
it would have been the first birthday of Mish's
infant son. who had died months earlier. The
baby was buried in the Chapel of the Chimes Cemetery,
located directly across the street from the Rainbow
Market. Investigators believe Mish was at the
cemetery visiting his son's grave when he spotted
the two young girls on their scooters and began
to plan his attack. David Mish was not a new
name to the legal system. When the charges were
announced in December 2020, He was already serving
a sentence of 18 years to life for the 1989 murder
of Marber Ball in Hayward. He had beaten and
stabbed her to death in her own home just a year
after Michaela disappeared. But his trail of
violence went back even further. In 2018, he
had been charged with the 1986 murders of two
best friends in Fremont, Michelle Xavier and
Jennifer Dewey. Those two young women, aged 18
and 20, had been found shot and stabbed along
a remote road after attending a birthday dinner.
For 30 years, that case had also been cold until
DNA found under Jennifer Dewey's fingernails
was matched to Mish. When he finally stood trial
for the Fremont murders in late 2024, the courtroom
witnessed the true nature of the man. Mish was
frequently disruptive, at one point singing 99
bottles of beer on the wall while the victim's
families were delivering their emotional impact
statements. In December 2024, a jury found him
guilty of two counts of first degree murder.
And in January 2025, he was sentenced to two
consecutive terms of 25 years to life. The resolution
of Michaela's case, however, remains caught in
the gears of the legal system. In 2023, the Alameda
County District Attorney's Office made the controversial
decision to drop the special circumstances enhancements
against Mish, which would have guaranteed life
without parole or the death penalty. This move
sparked outrage from victims advocates who argued
it removed the leverage needed to pressure Mish
into revealing where he hid Michaela's remains.
Mish has never cooperated with investigators,
and to this day, her body has never been found.
One theory suggests he may have left her in the
wooded areas near Niles Canyon, but searches
have yielded nothing. Tragically, Sharon Merch
passed away from breast cancer in May 2022, never
having the chance to see the man who took her
daughter face a jury for that specific crime.
She died knowing his name. but not knowing where
her daughter lay. As of June 2026, David Mish
remains in custody at the Santa Rita jail in
Dublin, awaiting trial for the kidnapping and
murder of Michaela Gehrig. He is 65 years old,
a man whose life has been defined by a series
of brutal, calculated crimes against women and
children, often committed just days or months
after being released on parole for previous offenses.
The Rainbow Market is now a different grocery
store under a different name, but the memory
of that Saturday morning in November 1988 still
hangs over the corner of Mission Boulevard and
Lafayette Avenue. The case is a testament to
the fact that while technology can eventually
catch up with the past, it cannot always heal
the silence that a single violent act leaves
behind. Michaela would have been in her mid -40s
today, perhaps living the life her mother so
vividly imagined for her in those blog posts.
Instead, she remains a symbol of a community's
lost innocence and a mother's ironclad promise
to never stop looking, even when the world moved
on. If you found this story compelling, please
share it with someone who values the pursuit
of justice for those who can no longer speak
for themselves. And that's how I heard it.
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