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Quiet reflections

by JOSH McDONALD
Local Editor | May 16, 2025 1:00 AM

COEUR D’ALENE -- 20 years ago, the unthinkable happened. The triple homicide and kidnapping of two young children from a home near Wolf Lodge stopped North Idaho and much of the nation in its tracks. 47 days later, 8-year-old Shasta Groene was identified and rescued at a Coeur d’Alene restaurant, and the man responsible was arrested.  

In the weeks and months that followed, the public learned more and more about the horrors that began on May 16, 2005, each new piece of information worse than the last. It was during this time that everyone learned how 9-year-old Dylan Groene died. And the community grieved alongside a young girl who had everyone close to her ripped away.  

The story has been told many times over, but something seemingly lost in the details was how the community and those close to the victims struggled to heal in the years that followed.  

Sierra Skiles was eight when her best friend went missing.  

Skiles lived roughly a quarter of a mile from the Groene residence, which was separated by a large field. The field and surrounding hillsides became the ultimate playground for all the children, including Sierra and Shasta, who had an affinity for turning the trees into their own world.  

Sierra is reluctant to speak on the topic, in large part due to the sensitive nature of the subject and a desire not to make herself a victim.  

“It isn’t my story,” Skiles said, “but I was affected.”    

Skiles describes the time as everything was normal, and then one day, the person she played with, rode the school bus with, and shared her imagination with was suddenly gone, and no one could really explain how or why in a way that would make sense to an 8-year-old. 

Then, as investigators were tearing through her house, looking for anything that could give them a clue about Shasta and Dylan’s whereabouts, Skiles was sent to stay with her grandmother in Rathdrum.   

“It’s something I still don’t know how to react to,” Skiles said. “Living out there, driving by. Even to this day, when I drive by the spot where the house used to be, I feel sad. Wolf Lodge used to be such a sunny, bright place, but now there's a darkness to it."

Skiles’ memory of the weeks following the kidnapping is fuzzy in spots, something she attributes to her own unprocessed trauma from the event, but she can remember how things changed. Suddenly, kids weren’t allowed to play outside without supervision, people were afraid to leave their homes, and her own mother feared leaving for work at the former nearby Wolf Lodge Steakhouse.  

“Of course it affected the community, it was like living in a nightmare in real time,” Skiles said. “I’ve talked to some of my friends, and they explained how it affected them, but a lot of it was similar for each person.”  

Instead of getting ready for the final days of school, Shasta and Dylan’s classmates at Fernan Elementary School planted trees for the missing siblings and another for their brother, Slade.  

Skiles didn’t see Shasta again until the following school year, but things had changed.  

Skiles described her friend as strikingly beautiful, with a sunny disposition like she had stepped out of the 1970s flower power era. But when she saw her again, that sunny disposition was gone.  

“That was really hard,” Skiles said. “I don’t blame her, obviously, with everything that had happened, there was no way she was going to be the same. It just hurt to see her like that. No matter what people had said or tried to prepare me for, nothing was the same.”  

A few years later, Skiles moved to the Silver Valley, where she carried the memories of May 2005 with her into her formative years.  

Skiles, who is now married with children of her own, still has moments where she’ll get up and look out the windows to make sure everything is in order, but she doesn’t think she’s alone in that.   

Recently, she published a blog – with Shasta’s permission – that detailed her thoughts and feelings stemming from those memories. The blog, which reads like a love letter between best friends, was a major step for Skiles’ own mental health.  

“The blog was a little bit of therapy,” Skiles said. “I just needed to get that out in some way. Like I said, it affected me in many ways, but it affected a lot of people. I don’t want to act like I’m the only one.”  

Their relationship may have changed forever, but Skiles hopes that one day they can reconnect. Maybe not in the way they were 20 years ago, but perhaps in a way that highlights both of their lives as adults, with their children, their successes, and their future.  

“Obviously, she’s had to deal with so much trauma, but it seems like she’s doing her best now, and I’m happy for her,” Skiles said. "I still love her, I still care about her. And I'm proud of the way that she's never given up." 

Shasta currently resides in Southern Idaho, where she is raising her five sons.