Pointing Fingers: Aftermath of a Murder on the Trail
We traveled southbound on the Appalachian trail in Virginia beginning in April of 2019. As a result we were hiking through “the bubble”. “The bubble” is a name given to the surge of thousands of hikers heading the more conventional direction, north, on the AT in early spring and we had the opportunity to talk to many of these fellow thru hikers as we made our way to Georgia. For weeks one common topic emerged; the presence of a bizarre and threatening hiker, James Jordan, whose trail name was “Sovereign”.
Hikers spoke of the mind games he played like preventing people from passing him on the trail or flying into a rage if someone attempted to pet his dog. One hiker said Sovereign slashed at him with a “big ass knife”. Another report described him claiming a shelter to himself in the pouring rain and swinging a shovel at hikers who tried to enter. We were relieved when we heard that he had traveled north on a bus and was no longer a threat. On another occasion our fears were allayed when it was reported that Tennessee authorities had him in custody. Both times our hopes fell when north bounders told us he was back on trail and headed our way.
Chestnut Knob shelter was packed. The sixteen mile section of trail that closed while the crime scene was investigated had just reopened. Rain fell steadily. Talk in the shelter was solely about the capture of Sovereign for the murder of AT thru hiker and veteran, Ronald Sanchez. Jordan had chased another couple from the campsite earlier and stabbed a woman who was able to escape and contact authorities. The terror was finally over and deep sadness took its place.
As the conversation in the crowded shelter buzzed, I noticed a young, blonde, petite woman seated in the corner across from me. I’ll use the fake trail name “Butterfly” to protect her identity. She was largely silent except when someone came in and exchanged greetings. It was late afternoon and she had her sleeping pad and quilt laid out on the wooden bunk bed. Clearly, her intent was to spend the night in the shelter out of the rain. Then hikers started talking about how the murder could have been avoided. Authorities in Tennessee claimed they could not hold Jordan and charge him with a crime unless the hiker who had been threatened agreed to remain in town to testify. It would have taken weeks of waiting including an expensive stay in a motel. Most hikers are on a shoestring budget to begin with. This witness would probably have had to end their hike and, even then, the possibility remained that Sovereign would be released and return to the trail.
A profound desolation fell across Butterfly’s face. She quietly packed up her gear and hiked into the blustery, cold rain. Was she the hiker who refused to remain in Tennessee to testify? If so, the accusations being proferred must have shaken her to the core. Would she carry responsibility for Ronald Sanchez’s death with her for the rest of her life?
There is an adage that hindsight is 20-20. What could have been done differently? The National Park Service, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, local police and the FBI were all aware of James Jordan and the threats he posed weeks in advance of the eventual murder. No one took charge. There was little apparent attempt for agencies to work together. Lots of hikers could be characterized as “strange”. But at what point does it cross the line? Certainly, it is easy now to piece together all the events of April and May 2019 on the southern Appalachian Trail and recognize that Jordan had crossed well past that line.
Benjamin Franklin famously said, “Those who would give up essential liberty, to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.” People who commit to embarking on a long thru hike often do so to embrace expansive freedom and accept that it is putting their safety at risk. But to what extent? As a veteran, Ronald Sanchez fought to preserve liberty – yet he ended up sacrificing more than “a little temporary safety”. Rather than pointing fingers at each other, I hope the various law enforcement agencies and administrative bodies have put their heads together to prevent another dangerous mentally ill person from a repeat reign of terror in the wilderness. It might just require an act of Congress… literally.
The day we departed from Chestnut Knob shelter we hiked past the crime scene. If we had been a day ahead, we might have been among the victims. Little orange flags still dotted the campsite marking significant locations in the investigation. Fields bordering the trail revealed vehicle tracks from police and ambulance traffic trying to get as close to the scene as possible. In places the trail was magically carpeted with the purple of fallen rhododendron flower petals. This was what Ronald Sanchez would have encountered his last day on this earth. It was a scene of exquisite beauty.
