These days, it's hard to believe that anything is truly lost. Like, gone for good. Vamoose.
What with find-a-phone apps, GPS tiles and the potent reach of social media, it seems like any lost item has an excellent chance of being ultimately reunited with its owner.
That is, until the trail goes cold and the hunters give up the hunt.
But, in this case, that hasn't happened quite yet. So, please read on. And help if you can.
Shelby Stalans, 23, a clerk in a Dalton, Georgia, convenience store, tells us that she has been tenaciously trying to return an heirloom pendant to its rightful owner for about 10 days. But she's hitting a wall.
About a year ago, Stalans says, an older women and her daughter entered the RaceTrac store on Walnut Avenue off Interstate 75's Exit 33 in Dalton. Before she left, the customer realized that a pendant she had worn around her neck had fallen off.
It was a gift from her deceased husband with deep sentimental value, she explained.
The customer quickly located the broken chain in front of the checkout counter, but the pendant - a nickel-sized charm with a flower on the front and the date of her marriage on the back - was nowhere to be found.
Panicked, she asked Stalans to help her look around.
"We moved the shelves and started looking for it," Stalans remembers. "By this time she was crying. She was upset. It was from her [deceased] husband."
After several minutes of frantic searching, though, the two concluded that someone else had seen the lost charm and decided to pocket the piece.
"She was devastated," Stalans remembers.
The woman helped Stalans draw a picture of the charm for reference and left her name and phone number on the off chance that it would turn up later. Alas, the world continued turning.
Travelers on I-75 literally span the entire eastern seaboard of the United States and part of Canada. There was a good chance that the owner of the lost pendant lived 1,000 miles or more away.
Stalans says she never really forgot about the pendant. She got married last year, she said, so the thought of someone losing a piece of jewelry that personal just feels wrong.
Then, a few days ago, when she and a co-worker were moving some seasonal decorations, Stalans says, she heard the unmistakable chime of coin hitting the floor. It had apparently fallen off an ornamental scarecrow.
"It's raining money," she said instinctively.
But it wasn't money. It was the pendant - flower on one side and wedding date on the other.
Quickly, Stalans jumped on social media to broadcast her find. She started a Facebook page. It's called "Lost Pendant." You can search it. (The customer had originally left her name and contact number with the RaceTrac folks, but, over time, it was lost in the everyday churn of business.)
People have shared the Lost Pendant page more than 5,000 times - some are even praying for the pendant's return - but it's still like searching for a needle in a haystack, Stalans says.
One clue: Stalans has traced a jeweler's mark on the back of the pendant to Carl Art Jewelry Company in Providence, Rhode Island. Maybe someone knows the place. At least it's a lead.
A little internet sleuthing shows that the Carl Art company, originally owned by German immigrant Carl Schrayssheun (who apparently died in 1953), changed ownership several times through the years. This particular piece could be up to 38 years old. The trail is cold.
Sharing through social media with friends and family in the Providence area might spark a memory, or shake loose another clue.
"One thing that gives me comfort is that a lot of people have gone on Facebook and put where they've shared it," says Stalans. There have been shares in Michigan, Indiana and Florida, among other places, she said.
In any case, it appears the pendant has escaped its hiding spot and is ready to be found.
Any help that you can provide would be greatly appreciated. If a happy ending happens, we will be pleased to report it.
To respond to this column or to suggest a human-interest story, contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645.