Located off of the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the vicinity of Mount Bradley

can be found the small dusty town of Independence, California, population around 600.

Can be found if you're looking for it.

Out there in its patch of desert, it's the type of place you

might want to drive on through after having come across it by chance. Not much going on except

the sense of hidden happenings, secret things you'd want no part of. But if you've stumbled off

of the overshadowing Mount Bradley at dusk with a head full of hallucinations and an empty stomach,

backlit by the lavender light,

as it's known in these parts, teeth broken and wild-eyed from misadventure,

a massive hitch in your giddy-up, the result of attempting to stay off of shredded feet,

carrying a broken arm, then the sparse, distant lights of independence become a beacon of hope,

rather than a smattering

of despair. The issue for one fortunate unfortunate back in the mid-70s is that she looked

very much like a Manson family member. Charlie Manson, in the late 60s, had been arrested in

nearby Death Valley and locked up for a fortnight in the small town of Independence

before being sent off to the big city for trial. His followers, mainly young women,

had milled about the Independence Jailhouse, singing their creepy songs and making themselves a general nuisance for the local townsfolk.

It is now the mid-70s. And the barefoot and disheveled woman we've come to see stumble away from the mountain, across the desert valley, is dressed in a long, torn skirt and has a funny hat on her head. Her gait and rough appearance don't help.

Lauren Elder looks the part of a long-lost Manson family member. Her difficult journey should be ending at any moment, but it somehow isn't.

This part, knocking on doors and trying to explain where she'd come from, what she needs,

is proving to be the hardest leg of the journey yet.

Welcome to Maroon, stories of the catastrophically lost.

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