On a recent visit to the deserted patch along South Beavercreek Road, spring flowers poked through ankle-high grass and a riotous carpet of weeds spread out under a stand of evergreens.

A modest house once stood in this spot, but it is long gone.

Nature has done its part to reclaim the place.

But Oregon City remembers what happened here.

Nearly two decades ago, this is where an ex-con named Ward Weaver killed Ashley Pond, 12, and Miranda Gaddis, 13, two local girls.

Ashley vanished one morning in January. Miranda disappeared two months later. Both were last seen by their mothers as they left for Gardiner Middle School, where they were in seventh grade.

Steve Hopkins, left, owner of the house where Ward Weaver lived, walks near the backyard shed where the remains of Miranda Gaddis were discovered. Now, the property is covered in a blanket of grass and weeds. Sometime after the murders, Weaver's rental property was destroyed.

The girls lived in the same working-class apartment complex near the home. They were friends who loved school and dance.

Their disappearances plunged the city’s parents into a tailspin of fear and panic. The investigation transfixed the state and became national news.

Months after they vanished, investigators made a grim discovery: Miranda’s remains were hidden in a shed behind the home. Ashley’s were buried under a concrete slab in the backyard.

Weaver was eventually convicted of aggravated murder in their deaths. He also was convicted of attacking and raping his son’s 19-year-old girlfriend and raping a 15-year-old girl.

Now 56, he is serving life without parole at Two Rivers Correctional Institution in Umatilla.

The house belonged to Steve Hopkins, a local businessman who owned a chain of auto supply stores. Hopkins bought the property in the early 1990s with the idea that he would open another store, but that plan didn’t work out and Hopkins rented the home to his employees.

One of them was Weaver.

Once the case was over, Hopkins had the house torn down.

It had seen too much horror to remain standing.

A couple times a year, Hopkins showed up with a crew to mow the grass there. He’d find little toys and other mementoes left in the girls’ memories near the tall cedar and fir trees.

A bouquet of flowers sits partially buried amid grass and weeds near where the property Ward Weaver lived on once stood. March 11, 2020. Beth Nakamura/Staff

Hopkins said he was never especially eager to sell the lot even as office buildings and commercial plazas sprung up on South Beavercreek Road, a bustling artery off of Oregon 213.

The land was for sale over the years, but deals tended to fall apart once prospective buyers learned its backstory.

And so it sat empty and over time that emptiness seemed to become its own memorial to the girls.

Then finally last fall, it sold.

***

Charles Kienlen drove by the lot countless times.

Like most people around here, he knew its history.

A retired businessman, Kienlen helped found the Clackamas County chapter of a national organization called Love In the Name of Christ or Love INC. The group is a coalition of local congregations that provide social services, spiritual care and basic household goods for people in need.

It rents space at a Lutheran church in Oregon City and has expanded over the years. Last year, it served 800 families, mostly single mothers trying to make ends meet.

In late 2018, the group’s executive director, Joan Jones, told members that it was time to consider looking for a bigger space. She envisioned something large enough to serve meals and offer job training and parenting classes.

Kienlen heard Jones’ idea and responded with one of his own:

What if he and his wife Judith bought the lot on South Beavercreek Road and paid for the construction of a new building for Love INC?

Jones was bowled over by the Kienlens’ generosity but worried about how the girls’ families would react.

She reached out to one of Miranda’s sisters, Miriah.

“Walk softly, Joan,” she thought as she made the call.

Miriah, she said, gave her blessing.

So the Kienlens bought the land, paying $650,000, county assessment records show.

Now Kienlen’s mind races with possibilities: a community garden, programs for those in need and housing for young people aging out of foster care.

A place for people to gather.

He envisions a memorial to Miranda and Ashley on the site.

“That’s the way God directed us to go,” Kienlen, 77, said as he sat in the living room of his Happy Valley home.

“It was a good use of money. It would help so many people.”

***

Love INC didn’t make a splashy announcement about its plans.

In fact, it didn’t make a public announcement at all.

Instead, Jones has quietly discussed the project among supporters and others who work with the group. Groundbreaking is expected sometime this summer.

So far, no one has flinched.

One local church was so moved by the idea of reclaiming the land that the congregation sent Love INC a check for $1,000.

It was a signal that the community was ready to see something good happen here.

To Jones, it seemed like fate brought her organization to this moment – and delivered something else to the parcel with a tragic past.

Redemption.

***

On that recent visit to the lot, no trace of its history remained.

Except for this:

A small handwritten note lay under one of the towering trees.

A faded card addressed to Miranda Gaddis rests near old, toppled flower pots beneath an evergreen tree on the property. March 11, 2020. Beth Nakamura/Staff

Someone had drawn a heart.

The ink had faded but the message was still legible.

It was addressed to Miranda: You are remembered.

-- Noelle Crombie; ncrombie@oregonian.com; 503-276-7184; @noellecrombie

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