In March 2018, two college students on a spring break hiking trip thought they were simply exploring the quiet trails of Chattahoochee National Forest. Instead, they uncovered evidence that would help resolve one of Georgia’s longest-standing missing-persons cases, bringing long-awaited clarity to families who had searched for answers since the 1970s.
What Eddie Reed and James Maurice found that day did not reveal the dramatic scenes imagined in old rumors or abandoned files. Instead, the discovery led investigators to a sealed underground chamber connected to the former Oak Creek Rehabilitation Center—an institution that had once worked with foster youth transitioning into adulthood. It was here that records, personal belongings, and handwritten letters were found, items that had gone missing for decades but were crucial to understanding what happened to 17 young people whose disappearances had remained unexplained.
Their discovery reopened a chapter of history that had faded from public attention but had never left the minds of the families involved.
A Discovery Hidden by Time

Eddie and James were experienced hikers who enjoyed searching for lesser-known ridges and caves. While walking off-trail, they noticed a partially exposed cave entrance, likely uncovered by a recent rockshift. What initially appeared to be a natural opening changed quickly. A narrow tunnel—lined with old bricks—extended deeper into the hillside.
At the end of the tunnel sat a rusted metal door secured from the inside. The students notified authorities, who later opened the chamber with the help of state investigators.
Inside, they found a sealed records room connected historically to the old rehabilitation facility nearby. Files, belongings, letters, and identification cards lay undisturbed. Many of the names matched young adults who had aged out of the foster system between 1968 and 1979, all of whom had been reported missing at the time.
The teenagers had once been placed at Oak Creek Rehabilitation Center, a state-supported institution intended to provide transitional guidance during a period when resources for older foster youth were extremely limited.
For decades, the missing-person cases remained unresolved due to inconsistencies in record-keeping, a lack of federal oversight standards in the era, and communication gaps between agencies.
Personal Belongings That Told a Story
The items discovered inside the chamber included:
• sealed envelopes addressed to families
• ID cards
• notebooks and journals
• personal effects such as watches, bracelets, and small keepsakes
The letters were especially moving. Many contained hopeful messages about future plans—college ambitions, dreams of reconnecting with relatives, or descriptions of their progress in the program. Others expressed uncertainty or homesickness, written with honesty typical of teenagers navigating difficult transitions.
For families who had long wondered what became of their children, these letters became precious final connections.
How the Puzzle Came Together
The rediscovered documents prompted a multi-agency review led by state authorities, historians, and investigators familiar with archival recovery. They pieced together how administrative transitions, outdated infrastructure, and inconsistent reporting allowed these cases to remain unresolved for so long.
During the late 1960s and 1970s, record-keeping systems were far less standardized than they are today. Many institutions relied on paper ledgers, handwritten updates, and isolated databases. When Oak Creek Rehabilitation Center closed in 1982, several boxes of files were transferred to different temporary storage areas. Some were misplaced during staff turnover, organizational restructuring, or building renovations.
The tunnel and chamber discovered by the hikers had originally been part of a storm-protection room later converted into a document archive. When the facility shut down, the chamber was sealed and forgotten. No digital copy of those files existed.
Because of these systemic failures, families received conflicting information for decades—some were told their children had relocated, others that files were incomplete, and others never heard back at all.
The rediscovered documents helped bring clarity, allowing investigators to formally close multiple missing-persons cases that had remained open for more than forty years.
The Families Finally Received Their Letters
Once forensic archivists restored the letters, they were returned to families with great care, accompanied by counselors and support teams. The emotional impact varied from family to family. Some described the moment as a form of peace, even if the answers came late. Others found old pain resurfacing as they read words written by loved ones at a turning point in their lives.
One of the investigators, Dr. Lisa Brooks—now an FBI analyst—made a personal discovery during the process: one of the letters belonged to her aunt, Teresa Brooks, who disappeared months before Lisa was born. Teresa had written excitedly about becoming an aunt and starting a new chapter. For Dr. Brooks, the discovery added a layer of personal meaning to an already significant investigation.
Public Reaction and Reform

The state publicly acknowledged the administrative failures and historical oversight gaps that contributed to the decades-long confusion. Officials expressed regret for the pain caused to families who spent years without answers. This acknowledgment led to several initiatives:
• a formal review of archival record-keeping standards
• the creation of a state historical task force to preserve institutional documents
• expanded support for former foster youth
• a scholarship program named for the 17 individuals involved
Community members held vigils and public gatherings, emphasizing remembrance, healing, and accountability.
A Memorial for the Missing
The families collectively chose to establish a memorial near the former Oak Creek site. It includes:
• a plaque engraved with all 17 names
• excerpts from selected letters
• a walkway lined with stones bearing messages of hope
Each October, families, former foster youth, and community supporters gather to read the letters aloud—not as an act of grief, but as an affirmation that the voices of the past remain part of Georgia’s history.
The Hikers Who Changed the Story
Eddie Reed, deeply moved by the experience, pursued a career in park conservation and eventually became a ranger. He visits the memorial annually to pay respects.
James Maurice moved to Colorado but returns each year for the remembrance events, feeling a lifelong connection to the families he helped bring answers to.
Neither expected their spring hike to hold such significance, but both say they are grateful they could contribute to closure for so many.
A Legacy Preserved
The rediscovery of the Oak Creek records reshaped how Georgia approaches historical documentation and foster-care transitions. It also highlighted how small actions—such as two students choosing a different trail—can lead to profound social impact.
Most importantly, the teenagers whose stories were once lost in incomplete files are now remembered as individuals with dreams, plans, and loved ones waiting for them. Their words, once sealed in darkness, now serve as reminders of resilience, connection, and hope.
At the memorial site, one engraved line captures the heart of the legacy:
“Forever remembered. Forever heard.”
Even after decades of silence, their voices endure.