Episode 3: The Pattern Begins

By the summer of 1997, Shenandoah had begun to heal—at least on the surface. The trails had reopened. Visitors returned to Skyline Drive to chase the same peace Julie and Lollie once sought. But beneath the calm, fear still lingered in the trees.

The Cyclist

Yvonne was built for distance. At 40, she’d completed double Ironmans, cross-country rides, and 12-hour training days that most would never attempt. Friends described her as witty, grounded, and relentless—a woman who found joy in the rhythm of her own strength.

On July 9, 1997, she pedaled along Skyline Drive, climbing through the summer heat, when a red pickup truck began tailing her. The driver leaned out the window, shouting obscenities. Then he swerved toward her.

Yvonne fought to stay upright as he circled back again and again, trying to force her off the road. Somehow—through instinct or grace—she escaped, battered but alive.

Her report to park rangers would set off a chain reaction.

The Arrest

By nightfall, Rangers had stopped a red Ford pickup near Thornton Gap. The driver was calm, polite, and disturbingly cooperative. His name was Darrell David Rice, a 29-year-old computer programmer from Columbia, Maryland.

He didn’t resist arrest. He didn’t even ask why.

Within hours, he was charged in federal court with attempted kidnapping and assault—crimes that carried serious weight because they happened on federal land.

In court filings, prosecutors described the attack as methodical and predatory. Rice, they said, had stalked Yvonne for miles, shouting slurs and threats before using his truck as a weapon. He told investigators later that he had been “angry at women that day.”

Neighbors called him volatile. Former coworkers said he enjoyed intimidating women. The FBI called it a pattern.

The Connection

Thornton Gap Entrance, Skyline Drive (photo credit: National Park Service)

When agents pulled Rice’s park records, one detail froze them: on May 25, 1996, the same day Julie Williams and Lollie Winans were last seen alive, Rice’s vehicle had entered Shenandoah through the Front Royal gate. He exited the next day—then returned.

It was too close, too similar, too familiar.

After years of silence, investigators finally believed they had their man.

The Indictment

On April 10, 2002, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft stood before reporters in Washington, D.C., announcing that Darrell David Rice had been indicted for four counts of capital murder—two of them alleging hate crimes based on gender and sexual orientation.

“We will pursue and punish those who attack law-abiding Americans out of hatred for who they are.” — Attorney General John Ashcroft

The Justice Department called it a landmark case—the first time federal hate crime authority had been used to prosecute a homicide on national park land.

For Julie and Lollie’s families, it seemed like long-awaited justice. But behind the headlines, doubts were already forming. There was no DNA linking Rice to the scene. And whispers were growing about another man—a predator named Richard Marc Evonitz, whose crimes would soon force investigators to question everything.

Reflection

Skyline Drive, near Big Meadows (photo credit: VisitSkylineDrive.com)

When I think about Yvonne, I think about how close she came to disappearing into the same silence that swallowed Julie and Lollie. Her courage and luck gave investigators their first real lead. But even now, her story feels like a warning. How quickly the line between freedom and danger can vanish.

Yvonne’s strength survived that day, but it also became part of another story—one that would redefine how we see safety, hate, and justice in the wild places we love.

— Sara Reid, Host of SEQUESTERED

CreditsSEQUESTERED is created by Sara Reid and Andrea Kleid. Hosted and produced by Sara Reid. Written and researched by Sara Reid and Andrea Kleid. Theme music by Night Owl. Original music by Andrew Golden — listen to his full song “Shenandoah” wherever you stream music.