A Night Shift That Never Ended: The Mystery of Margaret Chanty

On October 20th, 1987, Margaret Chanty clocked out of her late shift at St. Michael Hospital in Texarkana, Texas, and stepped into the warm night, her mind heavy with worry. She was 24, a nurse, a mother of two, and in the midst of a messy divorce. Friends say she’d been scared, convinced someone was following her. She drove a red Pontiac Fiero—distinctive, tiny, and now legendary in local lore.

She never made it home.

Her disappearance became a haunting mystery, buried under decades of speculation, rumors, and heartbreak. Her daughters, Brandy and Ashley, grew up with questions no child should have to ask: Where is Mom? Did someone hurt her? Did anyone care enough to find out?

Now, 36 years later, a new search team arrives in Texarkana, determined to dredge up answers from lakes, rivers, and memories. For the Chanty family, hope is a fragile thing—but it’s all they have left.

#### **The Last Hours: October 20th, 1987**

Margaret’s life in the weeks before she vanished was marked by anxiety. She confided in her father: “I think someone’s following me.” Friends noticed her unease. She was going through a divorce, and custody of her daughters was in play. The night she disappeared, a coworker followed her partway home at Margaret’s request, worried about a “tall white male” she thought was stalking her.

At 11:15 PM, Margaret left the hospital, headed for her apartment. She never arrived. Her red Fiero was never found.

#### **The Search Begins—and Stalls**

The initial investigation was, in the words of her daughter Brandy, “half-hearted.” Texarkana police and local authorities seemed to shrug off the missing nurse. Small-town politics, jurisdictional confusion, and Margaret’s low status on the hospital’s totem pole all played a part. Rumors swirled: Was it foul play? Did she run away? Was it an accident or suicide?

Her ex-husband, Roger, was quickly ruled out—he had a solid alibi at work. Attention shifted to other possibilities: Could Margaret have been targeted because of work? Was someone in her circle involved? Or was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?

#### **Theories and Dead Ends**

For years, the case languished. A private detective was hired, but nothing turned up. The police rarely called Brandy or Ashley back. The family felt abandoned, forced to chase rumors and piece together scraps of information.

Margaret’s daughters grew up haunted by whispers. “You wouldn’t believe the things people say,” Brandy recalls. “Some of it is crazy, some of it is just cruel. But there are things that keep coming up—strange details about her relationship with a doctor, about people who didn’t want to talk. It’s always felt like someone didn’t want this looked at too closely.”

#### **A New Era of Search: Civilian Divers and Social Media**

Decades later, hope resurfaced—not from police, but from civilian dive teams inspired by viral true crime stories. These volunteers, armed with sonar, magnetometers, and social media, began searching lakes, rivers, and ponds around Texarkana. Their motto: “Unless we’ve searched it, it hasn’t been searched.”

The team zeroed in on accident locations: boat ramps, canals, and lakes along the routes Margaret might have driven. They mapped out five-mile radiuses, checked historical maps, and factored in changes to roads and water access over the years.

The Red River, notorious for shifting sand and strong currents, was considered a last resort—anything dumped there could be buried forever. Instead, the focus fell on lakes and ponds where a car might remain hidden but recoverable.

#### **The Daughters’ Vigil**

Brandy, now a nurse herself, joined the search team on the ground. “We just want to put her to rest,” she said. “It’s a missing piece. You always wonder.”

Ashley, who was only two when her mother vanished, is more reserved. But both sisters agree: The search, even after all these years, brings hope and closure, whether or not Margaret is found.

#### **The Search Unfolds: Lakes, Ramps, and Rumors**

The dive team methodically scanned accident sites. First, a promising canal—deep enough to hide a Fiero, but fenced off since before Margaret disappeared. Next, Fish Lake, with a bridge and enough depth, but no sign of a car. At Beards Bluff and Millwood State Park, boat ramps were searched, sonar revealing old tires, fish habitats, and sunken debris, but no red Fiero.

Rumors about a pond near the paper mill sent the team seeking permission to search private property. Corporate red tape delayed the effort, but the team vowed to return.

The river, with its history of buried vehicles, was scanned. Sonar picked up several cars, but none matched Margaret’s. A 1999 Dodge Stratus, a Chevy pickup, and an SUV were identified and ruled out.

#### **The Human Toll**

Brandy described the pain of growing up in the shadow of her mother’s disappearance. “I went into nursing to honor her. It’s hard. She’s always missing.” The family’s advocacy on Facebook finally brought renewed attention. A new detective took up the case, reaching out to Arkansas State Police and promising to keep searching.

For the Chanty sisters, every search is both agony and hope: “At the end of the day, we just want peace. We want to know where she is.”

#### **The Dive and the Reveal**

With the stakes high, the dive team focused on a promising vehicle near a boat ramp—a small, upside-down car, possibly a Fiero. Divers suited up, braving alligator warnings and murky water. Cameras rolled as they explored the wreck.

The tension was palpable. Was this Margaret’s car? Could this search finally bring closure?

After minutes underwater, the team surfaced. The car was not a Fiero, but a 1999 Dodge Stratus. The emblem, tail lights, and part numbers confirmed the identity. The disappointment was crushing but not unexpected. Decades of sediment, shifting sands, and time had obscured many clues.

The team checked other vehicles—an SUV, a Chevy pickup—but none matched the missing nurse’s car.

A Family’s Response**

Brandy took the news with grace. “It’s not what we wanted, but at least we have answers. We know what it isn’t. And every search brings us closer to the truth.”

The team promised to keep searching, to return when access to the mill pond was granted, to follow new leads as they emerged. The search is not over.

Thirty-six years after Margaret Chanty vanished, her daughters still wait. The search team packs up, promising to return. The police, now more engaged thanks to social media, continue to follow leads. The community, once silent, is speaking up.

For Brandy and Ashley, closure remains elusive. But every search, every scan, every headline keeps Margaret’s story alive. “People aren’t forgotten,” Brandy says. “They belong to someone. They matter.”

The case is a testament to the power of hope, community, and persistence. It’s a reminder that cold cases can be cracked—not just by police, but by ordinary people who refuse to let the missing be forgotten.

And so the search continues. Maybe next time, the waters will give up their secret. Maybe someone will finally come forward. Maybe, after all these years, Margaret Chanty will come home.