After daughter's disappearance— one mother's 140-mile journey for justice

A mother’s worst fear is to bury her child.

Anita King never got the chance.

King last saw her 27-year-old daughter, Pepita Redhair, more than five years ago when she dropped her off at her boyfriend’s house in Southwest Albuquerque. After that, she vanished.

The Albuquerque Police Department officially reported Redhair missing on Mar. 27, 2020.

King and a handful of others made the 140-mile trek through the desert from Crownpoint east to Albuquerque last week to honor those, like Redhair, who have disappeared and to call for justice for the victims of what activists have called the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women crisis.

There are nearly 200 Native Americans reported missing in New Mexico, according to FBI statistics, from 32-year-old Walcie Downing, who disappeared in 1956, to 14-year-old Estrella Medel, who disappeared just last month. Rates of violence against Native women can be up to 10 times higher than the national average in some rural counties, according to the Bureau of Indian Affairs. In 2024, regardless of gender, murder was the third-leading cause of death for Native American youth aged 15 to 24, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“Bring my daughter home — that’s all I want,” King said, as cars zipped by on Route 66 behind her.

Earlier that morning, as the sun rose, painting the mesas pink, the runners prepared for a grueling day ahead. On this second day, they hoped to travel on aching feet from Grants to Los Lunas, about 80 miles.

The journey is more ritual than race, said Martina Maryboy, one of the head runners from Utah. Maryboy, a lifetime runner and member of the Navajo Nation, had her fill of ultramarathons a few years back.

“I guess I started looking for something more,” Maryboy said, standing outside her camper, where she stayed with her partner and grandson throughout the three-day journey.

This isn’t a race, or a stunt for publicity, Maryboy said, it’s about connection to the land and healing from grief. Each foot placed in front of the other is a prayer realized.

The runners somberly blessed themselves and the vehicles trailing them with burning sage — praying for Redhair’s return and an end to her mother’s suspended grief. The runners also dedicated their journey to 14-year-old Emily Pike, who was found dead in Arizona in February, and hundreds of other Native Americans missing across the Southwest.

Redhair, as her mother describes her, was “a happy young lady” with dreams of becoming either a teacher or a pilot. She saw beauty in even the smallest of creatures, King said, and would stop to pick up bugs, marveling at how “cute” they were. Redhair was sure to always bring home treats for her three nieces, whom she called her babies, when she returned from the city.

King talks to her daughter while she walks, reaffirming her intention over and over.

“I miss you, sweetie, we’re gonna find you,” She repeats, with each step. “This is for you. Stay strong wherever you’re at. Hold on to your prayers. Mom misses you. Mom’s walking for you.”

Maryboy organized the route, planting red handkerchiefs at mile markers along Route 66, carving the distance into 10-mile chunks. Brandy King, another participant and director of the nonprofit Search For Me, called Maryboy “the boss.”

Along the way, they’re joined by supporters, some for just moments and others for several hours. Near San Fidel, a black truck abruptly stopped upon seeing runners Lewellyn Benally and his 8-year-old grandson, Kaliko Benally. Beaded charms swung from the rearview mirror as Ralph Paytiamo, 87, stepped down to offer the runners a bottle of water.

Paytiamo of Acoma Pueblo did this same run along this same road some 50 years prior. In 1978, the American Indian Movement organized a cross-country run from California to Washington, D.C., demanding reforms in federal policy.

“I was a younger man then, more fit,” he said with a laugh.

This run, following in the footsteps of the aptly named Longest Walk, relied on the dedication and kindness of strangers like Paytiamo. Those who couldn’t join the runners in person ran in memory of Redhair from their own neighborhoods — submitting proof of their mileage to Maryboy over social media.

Ultimately, the five participants, accompanied by supporters, ran 86 miles, with people across the country chipping in additional miles from their own backyards to reach the 140-mile distance. Eager virtual participants put the group more than 22 miles over their initial goal.

In Albuquerque, the runners met up with a small gathering at Tiguex Park. The group then marched through Old Town’s squat stuccoed buildings, crying out for justice, not just for Redhair, but for 14-year-old Emily Pike, Calvin Martinez, Melissa Montoya, and other Native Americans who have gone missing in the Southwest.

“I’d burn the whole world down,” Brandy Martinez said. “These moms are so strong.”

After five years, King fears that her daughter’s disappearance is a cold case. Even still, Redhair’s room is untouched, as if she could walk through the door at any moment and come home.