Why I’m Finally Talking About My Mom’s Disappearance

In December 2003, my biological mother, Robin Monique Ellis, was working as a pizza delivery driver for Woodland Village Pizza in Philadelphia. On December 7th, she left the shop around 5:00 p.m. to deliver four orders. She completed at least one delivery but never returned to work and was never seen again. Two days later, her car—a brown 1995 Hyundai Elantra—was found abandoned on northbound I-95 near the Academy Road exit, approximately 20 miles from where she was last seen. There were no signs of foul play, and despite investigations, her disappearance remains unsolved. 

My biological mother (Robin Monique Ellis) and I in 1988

For years, I kept this pain to myself, reluctant to share my story for fear of being pitied or burdening others with my unresolved grief. But silence hasn’t brought answers, and it hasn’t eased the ache of not knowing. Participating in the Hope Without Boundaries 5K is a step toward healing—a way to honor my mother and all the other missing persons of color whose stories have been overlooked.

By walking, I’m breaking my own silence and encouraging others to acknowledge these tragedies that often go unnoticed. This event isn’t just about raising funds; it’s about raising voices, sharing stories, and building a community that refuses to let these individuals be forgotten.

I invite you to join me on Saturday, May 31, as we walk in solidarity and remembrance. Your participation sends a powerful message: that every person matters, every story deserves to be told, and together, we can be a force for change.

What makes this event different—what makes it ours—is how we’ve adapted it.

Instead of trying to recreate the large-scale walk happening in Washington, D.C., we asked ourselves: What can we do here in L.A. that’s meaningful, doable, and unforgettable?

The answer? We turn the walk into content.

Not for clout—but for visibility.

For the names that haven’t trended.

For the faces that haven’t gone viral.

For the families right here in Los Angeles still waiting for answers.

We’ve reimagined our satellite event to center on two powerful actions: a private group walk with video storytellingand a pop-up public awareness push. We’re filming content not just to document the moment, but to lift up real, open missing cases from our own communities—some of which are barely known outside of a single flyer or news blurb.

This is impact through innovation.

We’re using what we have—our phones, our platforms, our voices—to flood the algorithm with truth.

To give faces and names the space they deserve.

To remind the world that Black lives don’t stop mattering just because the media coverage does.

And it’s working.

We’ve already begun collecting names and stories of Black individuals currently missing in Los Angeles, and we’re incorporating them into our video content, our flyers, and our social rollouts. When we walk, we walk for them. When we post, we post for them. When we tell stories, we tell theirs—because they still need to be found, and someone needs to keep looking.

We’ll be walking—and filming—on Saturday, May 31, starting at 10 AM here in Los Angeles. Whether you show up in person, donate, repost, or simply hold space for those still missing, I’m grateful in advance for your support. This isn’t just an event. It’s a step toward healing, a call for justice, and a reminder that none of us are invisible. Thank you for walking with me.

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