Ava Glass, 50
Clambering down the hill, I tried not to trip as my kitten heels got wedged in the mud.
Detectives crowded beside the river bank where a bloated body was being pulled out, arms jutting out as though waiting for a hug.
River weeds hung from his fingers.
My stomach lurched.
I'm going to be sick, I thought.
It was 1994 and the first day in my new job as a crime reporter for the local newspaper in Savannah, Georgia.
Just 21, I was fresh out of university.
All that journalism training suddenly
