A film premiere, a pig farm, and our upcoming speaking events
Jacob Wetterling documentary will premiere at MSP International Film Festival
Our newest video update
Third time is a charm! Well, not really, but whatever.
Echoes in the Night: The Search for Jacob Wetterling
A film by Chris Newberry
We have some big news to share! After nearly 11 years, Chris Newberry’s documentary film—Echoes in the Night: The Search for Jacob Wetterling—will premiere at the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival (MSPIFF) on Saturday, April 18 and Sunday, April 19.
Echoes in the Night has been a true passion project for Chris, and throughout the years that we worked with him, we all came to appreciate his talent, his heart, and his dogged persistence in getting this project across the finish line.
Chris began working on the “Jacob Wetterling Documentary” (his working title) in 2015, just before the shocking arrest of Danny Heinrich. A year later, Heinrich would confess to Jacob’s 1989 kidnapping and lead authorities to his remains. Just like Dear Jacob—Patty’s 2023 memoir—the project took on a whole new breadth and scope after Jacob was found.
Here’s the official description on the MSPIFF website:
In October of 1989, eleven-year-old Jacob Wetterling was abducted on a quiet road in St. Joseph, Minnesota. The crime sent shockwaves across the country and the story became more tragic as the Wetterlings achingly searched for answers and kept the light on for Jacob for 26 years. Incredibly, that’s where Director Chris Newberry’s film begins, just as the perpetrator is finally caught and the entire investigation into Jacob’s disappearance is re-examined. Echoes in the Night focuses on the family’s ceaseless search for answers, the work they’ve done in Jacob’s memoryto change the way missing children cases are investigated and resolved.
Echoes in the Night will have two showings at The Main Theatre in Minneapolis, followed by Q&A with Chris Newberry, Patty and Jerry Wetterling, and other key people shown in the film.
Tickets are $17/each (plus a $2 fee) and are ON SALE NOW on the film’s breakout page on the MSPIFF website. Click showtimes for tickets.
If you’re interested in seeing other films throughout the 12-day run, you can also purchase a 6-pack or a full access pass.
Visit this link to view the trailer and purchase individual tickets:
https://mspfilm.org/show/echoes-in-the-night-the-search-for-jacob-wetterling/
“Hog Heaven” - Can you help us solve a mystery?
by Patty Wetterling
Throughout the very long and grueling process of editing my memoir (Dear Jacob: A Mother’s Journey of Hope), there was—understandably—a lot of material that got cut.
One of those stories I still hold near and dear to my heart. I titled it “Hog Heaven” when I originally wrote it, and it’s about the time my car broke down on a rural road while I was on my way to a speaking event in southeastern Minnesota. Through the sheer kindness of others and the deep humanity of a complete stranger, I found myself staying overnight on a pig farm while my car was getting fixed.
I’m copying the chapter below in its entirety. I hope you enjoy it, but I also hope you can help me solve a mystery. Who was this amazing woman who took care of me that night? I would SO love to see her again and I’m hoping that by sharing this story, someone will recognize something that will trigger a memory and help connect the two of us once again.
Like I always say, “There are more good people in the world than bad,” and this is a prime example of that. Enjoy!
Hog Heaven
By Patty Wetterling (circa 1994-1995?)
Jacob’s abduction had changed so much about my life, my work, and the person I’d become. But, at my core, I was still a teacher and I always felt renewed whenever I spoke to children. Not only did they represent hope, but in sharing Jacob’s story, they gave me back a piece of myself I didn’t even know I’d lost. They taught me how to recharge, so whenever when I got discouraged, depressed or down in spirit, my remedy was to go talk to children. They were my life. Whether I was teaching them junior high math or staying at home to raise and nurture my own four kids, it was always children who motivated me to care, to build, to learn and to grow. I loved how their brains sorted things out, how they challenged conventional ideas, and how their eyes sparkled whenever they talked about something they really loved.
Much of this process of “finding myself” happened during my many road trips across the state for community speaking events.
The longer road trips were often liberating. I usually cooked meals for the family to heat up so once on the road, I didn’t have my kids to worry about or Jerry. I could just get lost in my own thoughts. I’d often shake my head at the craziness of this new life, reprocess current leads or efforts to find Jacob or just play music really load and unwind until I got closer. Then I would focus my thoughts on what I was going to say to whatever group I would be addressing. One day, after driving for several hours, my car suddenly died while I was traveling along Minnesota Highway 16 (?) near Rushford. I hadn’t thought to check the oil in our Suburban before heading down to the farthest southeastern corner of the state, and now I was afraid I’d seriously damaged the engine.
I was scheduled to speak at a conference in nearby Houston (?), and certainly hadn’t allowed any extra time for car trouble. Not knowing what to do, I dialed 911 on the car phone that plugged into the cigarette lighter and had a huge magnetic antenna that I had to stick onto the roof of the car. When the operator asked me for my location, I realized I had no idea where I was. As I was trying to figure it out, a police car pulled up behind me.
“Man, you guys are fast!” I said to the operator with clear relief in my voice. “Thank you!”
After explaining my predicament to the officer, he offered to give me a ride to the conference, which was about 20 miles away. He knew about the Domestic Violence Victim Services Conference and we chatted comfortably as he drove. I have no idea why I was never afraid of what was happening. It was just another “thing” in a growing list of things I would have to figure out. After arriving at the modest looking conference center on time and no worse for wear, I gratefully exited the squad car right at the front door of the conference building.
“I cannot thank you enough!” I said to the officer.
“No problem,” he replied. “Good luck with your presentation.” Before driving off, he also gave me the name of a towing company and auto repair shop in nearby Rushford. (?)
I met my contact person and had a few moments to settle in and exhale before starting my presentation. It went well, and afterward I stuck around to listen to a presentation about a program titled “Healing through Storytelling” that was specifically for kids.
Sharing stories of abuse in smaller communities is especially hard because “everyone knows everyone.” Sometimes there is denial or even anger toward the children for saying such horrible things about the person they say is causing them sexual harm. But programs like this are SO needed and the kids affected need a lot of support to heal.
One by one, I watched as these kids walked bravely to the front of the room and shared their story. I was moved to tears listening to all that they had gone through and, finally, I couldn’t bear it anymore. With tears streaming down my face, I slipped out the back and sobbed.
One of the volunteers saw me exit and followed me out.
“Are you OK?” she asked gently.
“No. I’m really not.”
I was full out crying now.
“It breaks my heart to hear these kids tell their stories. All I can think about is Jacob and wonder what’s happening to him. If he’s still alive, is he going through the same hell that these kids did? It is all so sad that we even need conferences like this.”
She reached for my hand and listened graciously as I rambled on.
“I’m sorry. It’s just too hard. I can’t listen to any more, but I can’t leave because I don’t have a car. It broke down on my way here and it’s getting towed to Rushford to get fixed. I don’t have a place to stay and I… I just really miss Jacob.”
I’d never felt so lost and alone in my entire life. The impact of my family’s reality came crashing in on me and I’d finally crumbled.
“You could stay with me,” she offered.
I tried to get ahold of myself and blinked back tears as she continued.
“My husband and I live on a farm not too far from here. I can drive you back to Rushford tomorrow. It’s not a problem.”
My brain quickly scanned my situation. She was a volunteer at a shelter. She worked with traumatized women. She surely appeared to be compassionate and it felt safe. What better option was there in the middle of nowhere? I felt that I needed to be able to trust in the goodness of people.
“Are you sure?” I asked her.
“I’ll go grab my stuff.”
The woman was small, not much taller than I was, and was naturally pretty with her brown hair neatly braided halfway down her back. She reminded me of my friend Nancy who was into gardening and the “earthiest” person I knew. She was soft spoken and kind and at that point in time, I just wanted to get away from the conference and the stories.
We jumped into her pickup truck and she kept the conversation light as we travelled along the rolling countryside. As we pulled into her long gravel driveway, I was taken aback by the smell. It was so strong, I could barely breathe. She’d failed to mention (and I’d failed to ask) what kind of farming they did, but suddenly it was abundantly clear. It was a pig farm.
I was somewhat familiar with the smell having taken so many road trips throughout rural Minnesota, but this was a lot. I wasn’t sure I could get used to it enough to breathe comfortably, let alone sleep. What had I gotten myself into?
I followed the woman through the back door of a “typical looking” white farmhouse. It opened to a warm and cozy kitchen, lit by the warm glow of the afternoon sun.
“Sorry for the mess,” she said, embarrassed. “I didn’t get a chance to clean up before I left.”
Her kitchen counter was covered with colorful jam-filled jars that reminded me of a farmer’s market or gift shop. It didn’t look like a mess to me, it just looked magical, and the whole kitchen smelled heavenly in contrast to the outside air.
She shared that she’d previously moved away from the area but had come back to help care for her aging parents. She’d met her husband after reconnecting at a class reunion and learned that he was also caring for his aging parents. He’d taken over the family farm and she was an artist.
Her studio was on the second floor, where her beautiful oil canvasses of flowers, country scenes, and vegetable-and-fruit still lifes decorated the room. I was so impressed by her work and the peaceful studio she’d created.
“My” room was next to the studio. It was nicely decorated with a homemade quilt on the bed and fluffy white curtains that floated into the room through the open window. The contrast between this idyllic setting and the words of those children at the sexual violence conference couldn’t have been farther apart. I was so grateful to be away from it all.
I dropped my small overnight bag in the room and went back down to have a sandwich for dinner. Her husband was shy and quiet, but willing to answer my endless questions about farming since I knew nothing. The love between the two of them was palpable, and the whole scene was a beautiful blend between the earth, the arts, the simplicity of lifestyle, and the beauty and magnificence of the land.
Later, I made my way back upstairs, no longer smelling the pigs, but feeling renewed and cared for by two such amazing people.
In the morning, I made my way back downstairs and noticed my hostess getting ready to head outside.
“Do you need any help ‘slopping the pigs?” I asked her.
“Sure!” she laughed. She gave me a pair of rubber boots to wear and we made our way into the barn. I’d grown accustomed to the smell by now and loved watching all the cute pigs dive into their troughs, so grateful for their morning feed. I could seriously see myself learning to love this lifestyle.
Afterward, my angel hostess fed me eggs, coffee and toast with her homemade jam for breakfast, then we jumped back into her pick-up truck and drove the 25 miles to where my car had been towed. The damage I caused would take a few days to repair, so I’d called home the night before and arranged for a friend to drive down and pick me up.
I never saw this woman again and, sadly, I don’t remember the date I was there (nor can I even remember her name), but I’d like her to know that her kindness and generosity was truly life-changing for me. Not only had she rescued me when I was stranded, offered me a place to stay, opened her life and home to me, and shared the joys of her creative and simple lifestyle, she renewed my faith in people and I will be forever indebted to her for that.
Truly, there are more good people in the world than bad.
Do any of the details from this story sound familiar to you? If so, leave a comment and help us solve this mystery!
Upcoming Author Events
Additional events, links and details will be added as they become available. Dates and times subject to change. Please check back for final confirmation.
If you’re interested in having Patty and Joy do a book signing and/or speak at your upcoming event, please contact Jim Cihlar at Minnesota Historical Society Press.
5/11/2026, 1:00 PM, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, Breckenridge, MN
5/11/2026, 6:00 PM, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, Moorhead, MN
5/12/2026, 3:30 PM, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, Mahnomen, MN
5/12/2026, 7:00 PM, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, Crookston, MN
5/13/2026, 2:00 PM, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, Bagley, MN
5/13/2026, 6:00 PM, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, Detroit Lakes, MN
6/27/2026, 1:00 PM, Winona Public Library
Book Clubs
We are visiting book clubs and discussing Dear Jacob: A Mother’s Journey of Hope on Zoom! In return, we ask that your book club make a donation of any amount to the Jacob Wetterling Resource Center. Message us for details. We look forward to sharing Dear Jacob with you!
Follow Joy at JoyTheCurious.com
If you’re not already following Joy’s Substack, you can find her at JoyTheCurious.com.
Now in Paperback
Dear Jacob: A Mother’s Journey of Hope
Order from one of these online retailers or wherever you like to buy books!
Excerpt from the new Afterword
By Joy Baker
Sometimes a person comes into your life for reasons you can’t possibly un-derstand. When Patty and I first started working on this book, Jacob was still missing. We thought we were working on a legacy piece that would bring attention to his case, highlight Patty’s advocacy work, and serve as a spark of hope for other families of missing children. We were wrong. It became so much more.
As we worked on those early pages together, we couldn’t possibly have known what was in store for us or what our friendship would have to endure. To see it through would mean going there together—through the darkness, the sadness, and the unfathomable grief. Could we even do it? Would people be receptive to it? Would our friendship survive it?
It has been a remarkable journey.
At that charity gala in 2013 when Patty and I first met, I was forty-six; she was sixty-five. I had just given up my dream of starting a new writing career and gone back to working full-time at what I knew—marketing. Patty was a well-known keynote speaker, a child safety advocate, a national figure in Washington, DC, and probably the most famous Minnesotan I’d ever met. She just oozed drive and purpose. Like everyone else at the gala, I was blown away by her powerful message of hope and her belief in the overall goodness of humankind.
So I was more than a little nervous about approaching Patty that evening and introducing myself as the blogger who had been writing about her missing son for the past two months. Did she know who I was? Had she been following my blog? Was I making a difference? I was desperately trying to figure out my own purpose in life and hoped maybe this was it. By writing about Jacob’s case and asking people to “think Jacob” with me, maybe I could somehow create change.
It didn’t go as expected. Patty saw my writing less as “making a difference” and more “like stalking or something.”
Audiobook
People often ask us if there’s an audiobook version of Dear Jacob and the answer is, yes! It was published by Dreamscape Media at the same time the hard cover was released last year. It’s narrated by Rebecca Stern who does an amazing job voicing this emotional story.
The audiobook has also been updated with the new cover art and afterword —which is read by Joy in her own voice.
You can find the audio version of Dear Jacob: A Mother’s Journey of Hope on all the major audio platforms, including Audible, Audiobooks.com, the Apple Books app, Hoopla, Libby, Libro.fm, Google Play Books, and Scribd. If you’re interested in listening to a sample of Dear Jacob, click the following link.
https://www.audiobooks.com/book/stream/717092
Rankings and reviews
If you enjoyed reading Dear Jacob: A Mother’s Journey of Hope, please give it a positive rating and leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, or wherever you purchased your book. We love reading your reviews!
Ask for Dear Jacob at your local library
We love libraries, and would especially love if every library in America had a copy of Dear Jacob on its shelves. Many times there’s an online form you can fill out to request a specific book, but of course it’s just as simple to pick up the phone and call your friendly librarian. Thank you for your supporting your local library!
Wonderful to hear about Patty and Jared talking together at the Bloomington conference! That must have been powerful. So glad that happened.
I can't help you with Hog Heaven story but that was a very wonderful story to read! So glad to hear about the documentary also. God bless you both! People here at Realife continue to tell me how grateful they are for your visit last fall.
Peggy Bragelman, Realife Cooperative of Coon Rapids