Has anyone seen Jordon?

I saw a homemade poster in a gas station in Hoxie, Arkansas. On it was a picture of a teenaged girl in a basketball uniform, posing for the photographer, probably for the sports program or the yearbook. She looks happy and robust, black hair, rather plain, with a smile upon her face. Handwritten notes on the poster tell usher name is Jordon, and ask if we have seen her.
I asked the clerk about the girl. Was she local? Did she know her? To be honest, something about the girl’s appearance made me think she was a transgendered boy trying to find his/her niche, but the clerk interrupted that thought with the information that the girl, whom she did know, had gotten pregnant a while back, and had been so afraid of her overbearing Christian parents reaction that she had packed her belongings and had disappeared, with no contact for weeks, and was still missing.
It reminded me of an incident in my own life, and circle of friends, from the late spring of 1980. A girl that I knew from high school had also come down with a case of pregnancy, but unlike Jordon, had trustingly gone to her parents with that information, wanting their counsel and guidance and support. What she got instead was thrown out of her house, by her Christian parents. Confused and not knowing what to do, she met a guy that we happened to be attending college with (we were both in the same community college but with different classes) that I knew was both recently out of prison and who lived right down the street from the college. His prison time was for a robbery, but he seemed to be a decent guy. My friend told me that he had offered her a room in his place until she could get back on her feet, and that she was going to accept. A few days later she called me, panic stricken. The guy had almost immediately begun talking like they were living as romantic partners and had even commented that they could get married and travel together.
Something in his brain must have made the incorrect jump to the conclusion that because this girl was young and pregnant that she was an easy mark, or was vulnerable. She was neither. She was, however, so afraid that she came to me for help. I told her she could come to my house and stay in my sister’s old room. My father was never home and when he did finally come around he said it was okay as long as she helped with the cleaning etc.
She stayed at our house for a couple of weeks, until her pastor at her church arranged to be a mediator for her and her parents. She ended up going back home, and that story had a very happy ending, once her parents did the right thing.
I only hope that Jordon, wherever she is, is okay, and that she will return home safely, and that her parents’ wrath will dissipate into the proper emotion: love and concern for their daughter, a seemingly happy girl who made a mistake.
Im not posting the picture of Jordon due to the nature of the story. She deserves that little bit of privacy, at least.