Her voice broke. Tears started to flow down her cheeks. “I know he knew that I loved him. The last time I saw him, he gave me a big hug. That’s what keeps me going. I can still feel him squeeze me.”

This is the second hinge: A mother’s memory of a hug is the only thing she has left. The wilderness took everything else.

Let me tell you about Guy Howard Heckle. In early February of 1973, Guy was a member of Linn County Boy Scout Troop number 101. He and his fellow scouts were camping at Kouna’s Cabins, which run along the Cedar River between Palo and Toddville, Iowa, for an overnight retreat. The troop was playing a game of capture the flag when 11-year-old Guy was last seen. It was Saturday the 3rd, at approximately 8:00 p.m. The boys were running around playing the game, and everything seemed fairly normal.

During bed checks later that night, the chaperones discovered that little Guy was missing. After an initial search by fellow troop members and the chaperones, which came up with nothing and lasted approximately 90 minutes, Guy was officially reported missing to the Linn County Sheriff’s Office late that same night. Reserve deputies, those already on duty, the Marion police, and volunteers from the civil defense searched all night through the backwater and trails despite the ice and treacherous weather.

Guy was last seen wearing a light blue nylon quilted parka, striped multicolored maroon jeans, and chuckle boots.

The next day, Sunday, February 4th, a searcher found a blue parka, which was later identified by Guy’s mother, Nancy, as belonging to him. It was still zipped at the bottom. In addition to 500 people searching by foot that day, there were all-terrain vehicles, horses, a helicopter, and a fixed-wing aircraft, all out looking relentlessly for any sign of the young man.

On Monday the 5th, a bloodhound and a special search and rescue team from California joined the now 250 others searching in hopes of finding the boy. Initially, during the trip, the weather had been reported as mild. However, very shortly after it was noticed Guy was missing, snow started to fall.

Guy’s zipped blue parka is to this day the only single shred of evidence ever found. His cousin, Mike Mason, stated that the family believed the boy was abducted more than they believed he drowned, due mainly to the fact that his body was never recovered. It’s alleged that at this time in the early 1970s, news reports were consistently coming out accusing scout leaders of less than honorable intentions with the young boys left alone in their care.

But there has been no evidence that any of the troop leaders or anyone on the camping trip that night had anything at all to do with Guy’s disappearance. By all accounts, everyone involved helped the search and investigation to the best of their ability and cooperated to the fullest. The family’s reasoning stood that capture the flag is a dangerous game to play in the dark, wearing dark colors, and being made to stand alone in a dark place where you are not allowed to move. If a predator were in the vicinity, a boy standing alone would be an easy target.

There is no new information on this case. To this day, Guy’s family still wonders what could have happened to him all those years ago.

This is the third hinge: A game of capture the flag. A blue parka found zipped at the bottom. And a boy who never came home.

Now let me tell you about Alvin Nelson. In September of 1961, 17-year-old Alvin Nelson was hiking in the canyons of Zion National Park in Utah with fellow troop members of his Boy Scouts. While much of what actually happened at that time is unknown, his younger sister, Dora Lee, remembers hearing something over the radio that sent chills down her spine, something she would never forget.

She said she was at home in Salt Lake City, Utah, in her backyard, watering the plants and listening to the radio. Suddenly, there was a report of a massive flash flood in the Narrows. She immediately thought of her brother Alvin and his best friend, Frank Johnson. They were on a scouting trip in that exact area.

Five people were swept away that tragic day. But neither the body of her brother nor his best friend were ever found.

Dora went on in an interview to talk about how Alvin was the man of the house. Their father had left the family when they were small. It was Dora, Alvin, and their mother, and they were most of the time a happy and normal family for the era. Unfortunately, their mother passed away in 1996 without ever knowing what became of her son.

Dora also talked about the hope she carried with her all that time, the time up until she finally found some semblance of an answer. She said over the years, she would think things like, “Maybe something else happened. Maybe they were able to get out. Maybe he hit his head and got amnesia. Without a body, you always hope. It takes years and years before you actually believe they’ve got to be gone. The pain was always there.”

Fifty-one years later, in 2006, she finally got an answer. Authorities matched DNA to a skull fragment that was found by a man swimming in the Virgin River. The DNA matched Alvin. A small part of him had been found. He had in fact been swept away and was simply never found for all those years.

She said of the news, “It’s kind of a nice birthday present, but after so many years, it really doesn’t bring closure. It’s been a long time.”

Springdale Police Chief Kurt Wright grew up in the area near the canyons where the flood happened. He said the flood of ’61 is legendary in that particular area. He went on to state that it was something that was always on the periphery of his mind as well. What happened to those boys? Where had the bodies gone?

He said when the man brought the skull piece to the police, his thoughts immediately went to the missing Boy Scouts who were swept away that day. “That’s the only thing that’s never really been solved here,” he said. “We’ve had numerous drownings since then in the Narrows, but we’ve always recovered the victims.”

The fragment sat in the evidence room for years. The chief was constantly reminded of how costly DNA testing was, and that for such a small piece with no clear idea of who it could belong to, it could end up being a waste of time and money. Then he learned about free DNA testing being done by the University of Texas for any law enforcement agency in need of such a favor. He submitted the skull fragment. They were going to find out one way or another whether this had anything to do with the missing scouts.

He tracked down relatives of both Alvin and Frank Johnson and shipped everything off to the university. He received word about Frank first. It wasn’t him. Two days after that, he got the call that the DNA had matched Alvin Nelson. He contacted Dora, who had given the DNA sample and was most probably waiting with bated breath for an answer.

Dora planned on picking up the remains and burying them beneath a headstone purchased by her mother before she died, in the event something like this should happen. Alvin, or at least some small part of him, would finally be put to rest.

Chief Wright said, “It’s nice to bring some closure to at least one of the families. It’s a great feeling, but it was hard to deliver the news to the Johnson family. At least Dora can get some closure now and move on. It’s just amazing they can extract DNA from something that’s been underwater for 50 years and in the sand and mud. It’s been a fascinating case.”

Dora said, “You’d think after all these years it would be put to rest, but all the stress and the frustration just comes right back. I find this all very spiritual.”

This is the fourth hinge: Fifty-one years. A skull fragment. And a sister who never stopped hoping.

And finally, we have the bizarre disappearance of Jared Negrete. On July 19th, 1991, 12-year-old Jared Negrete was a member of the Boy Scouts, getting ready to embark on his first overnight backpacking trip into the wilderness. The group’s leader, Dennis Knight, along with the excited group of young boys, entered the San Bernardino National Forest and headed for Mount San Gorgonio, the tallest mountain in Southern California.

At around 6:00 p.m., Jared fell behind the pack as they hiked the trails and passed toward the summit. At first, his disappearance wasn’t noticed. Some outlets report that Jared got tired during the hike and was instructed to stay behind and wait for the group. While the truth is murky, the story of what happened next remains consistent. As the troop settled down for the night, setting up camp and placing their tents, Jared’s absence was noted. Knight immediately summoned the authorities.

The search for Jared spanned over 16 days, costing around $500,000. ATVs, dog units, helicopters, local law enforcement, and search and rescue crews scoured the land around the camp and where Jared had gone missing. They failed to find any sign of the boy. Interestingly, during their search, they found some bizarre items that were later confirmed not to belong to Jared. A microwave oven. Cannabis plants. A Boy Scout shirt. A backpack and a canteen. A wallet containing $130.

If these items didn’t belong to Jared, who did they belong to? And why were they left abandoned in the wilderness?

The 2,000-plus volunteers who took time out of their lives to help search for Jared managed to find a few clues. They found candy wrappers, beef jerky wrappers, and footprints made by Jared’s shoes, as well as his backpack. During the search, Jared’s camera was also found. Most of the pictures were of the local landscape. But there is one photo that vividly sticks out. In the photo, Jared’s eyes and nose can be seen. And some people believe that something is lurking in the background of the photo. The police theorized that Jared had taken the ominous last picture at night and that the strange background was caused by the camera flash.

Despite logging over 40,000 man-hours in the search for Jared, no sign of him has ever been found. His parents still desperately search for the truth. As with most unsolved disappearances, there are a plethora of theories. The most prevailing theories believe that he either fell down an embankment or simply got lost and succumbed to the elements. But there are also those who believe that bizarre and unknown forces in the national park have something to do with his disappearance, as there are hundreds upon thousands of people who disappear in our national parks each year.

Jared’s parents believe that his body is possibly amongst boulders, rocks, and dirt. But this theory has never been confirmed. They still hold out hope that one day they will receive a phone call, that their son will finally be reunited with them, one way or the other.

This is the fifth hinge: A camera. A photo. A microwave oven in the wilderness. And a boy who walked into the forest and never walked out.

The show ended. The lights went down. I sat in the studio for a long time, thinking about these boys. Garrett, who vanished within 50 paces of his father. Guy, whose blue parka was found zipped at the bottom. Alvin, whose skull fragment was found 51 years later. Jared, whose camera captured something that may or may not have been lurking in the dark.

They were Boy Scouts. They were trained. They were prepared. And still, the wilderness took them. Some were found. Some were found too late. Some were never found at all.

Garrett’s father said he could still feel his son’s hug. Dora said the pain never really goes away. Guy’s family still wonders. Jared’s parents still hope.

The wilderness does not care about any of this. It does not care about training or preparedness or love. It simply is. And sometimes, it takes.

“Be good to yourselves and each other,” I said to the empty studio. “And if you ever find yourself in the wilderness, stay with your group. Do not wander off. Do not assume you know the way. And for God’s sake, if you are a Boy Scout, remember your training. But also remember that training is not a guarantee. The wilderness does not read manuals. It does not follow rules. It does not care that you are only 50 paces from safety.”

The lights went out. The door closed. And somewhere, in the Uinta Mountains, a single Nike sock is still waiting for the boy who left it behind.

I am Steve Stockton. I will talk to you next time.