There are nearly 600 empty, desolate miles between land or Wyoming and pier South Dakota.

But every morning, Don and Bonnie Burrins say they felt the lonely miles melt away when

their daughter Tammy found home.

We make our call to each other and sometimes it would be, you know, maybe five minutes,

ten minutes, maybe half an hour depending on what was going to happen that day.

And this was seven days a week.

Seven days a week.

Four years.

Bonnie and Tammy treasured those long-distance mother-daughter chats.

Tammy and South Dakota, Bonnie, back home in Wyoming.

But on the morning of February 8th, 2006, the phone at Bonnie Burrins House didn't ring

at the usual time.

It was quarter to seven.

I thought, well, that's weird.

Tammy hasn't called me this morning.

So I called her home phone.

No answer.

Called herself phone.

Her message came on.

Nothing.

The alarms began to go off among the members of Tammy's family.

Her sister Holly.

...