Tamara is available to deliver her inspirational message both nationally and internationally. Her resume, the articles on this site and these notes from previous presentations do not do justice to the powerful message that Tamara delivers in person - a message filled with passion and emotion that is thought provoking and motivational.

If you are interested in having Tamara present at an event, e-mail us at events@tamarabrooks.org. Please provide as much information as possible.

Acceptance Speech for Second Annual Women’s Luncheon (NCMEC)
Broadcaster's Speech (Chicago)
Florida Department of Law Enforcement Speech

It is both miracle and an honor to be here with you today. Most of you are probably familiar with my story but not the details. Last summer, a young woman named Jacque Marris, and I were abducted by Roy Ratcliff at gun point in Quartz Hill , California . At approximately 11:15pm July 31, 2002 , the barrel of a pistol held by Roy Ratcliff stared me straight in the eyes. Trapped on a barren hill, with water towers to the left, and the moonlight sending eerie shadows across the desert, were Eric and I alone. The stench of old whiskey and Marlboro cigarettes filled the Bronco, as he vehemently demanded all our money and cell phones. Panic seized me; we had nothing to give him. About 2 hours later, approximately 1:00 am another vehicle arrived.  Minutes later, the sound of another female in fear, filled my ears. She too was forced into the back of the vehicle with me.  The moment we touched I knew that we were going to survive.

Together we comforted one another through the terror and pain filled night. Together we sang each other to sleep. Together we fought back.

On the morning of August 1, 2002 , Jacque Marris, and I knew that we would never again allow ourselves to experience the horrors inflicted on us of the previous night. Roy Ratcliff was going to see the wrath of the two small women that he randomly chose to kidnap.

After many 1,2,3’s and reassuring one another that we were not going to go to Juvenile Hall, nor to hell for what we were about to do the plan was executed. Simultaneously, Jacque stabbed Ratcliff in his neck, with all her might as I smashed his face with his whiskey bottle.

           We shoved him out of the Bronco, locked the doors, rolled up the windows, and grabbed the keys lying on the passenger seat. We said a bad word when we realized that we had the wrong set. We had grabbed the keys for the vehicle that Ratcliff had abandoned.  He still had the keys for the Bronco.  There we were stranded in the mountains, locked inside a Bronco, with man we had unsuccessfully tried to kill outside with two loaded guns and the keys to the car. We were trapped. He demanded we let him in.  We refused.  He swore that if we did not open the door he would count to three and unload every bullet into us.  We still refused.   With both guns trained on us he counted, and he counted. Never did he reach three. He would pass out before the word could slip from his lips. Consciousness finally found him as death slipped back into the shadows of his future. We had no choice but to unlock the doors and meet our destiny, our survival.

A little over three hours later, the police found us. After a shoot-out between the authorities and Ratcliff, leaving Ratcliff dead, Jacque and I were in each other’s arms crying and thanking God that we survived.  

           Although the ordeal had ended, the memories of the traumatic event haunted my conscious mind, and transformed dreams into to nightmares during the restless nights. School, something that required little work, seemed impossible.  It felt as if my soul had plunged into the black sea of fear, depression and the unknown. It was during that time that I made a decision.

Something positive will result from every negative experience. I took it upon myself to find that good, that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and hold on it with all my might. It was then that I opened my eyes and saw the light. My fear and pain were no longer going to hold me back. I vowed to take those emotions and use them to make a difference in the world; to speak out, to educate, to save at lives. The AMBER ALERT saved Jacque’s life. The AMBER ALERT saved my life. It is now my turn to give back what was almost taken from me, a chance to live. Thank-you all, once again for giving me the honor of accepting this award.

Broadcasters Speech ( Chicago )

Sometimes when the lids of my eyes close I can feel myself being gently pulled back into the past, to the day of my 17^th birthday. I could still hear the many voices shouting, “Feliz Cumpleanos” as I walked into work last July. The tickle of the strings from the balloons, ranging from midnight blues to crimson reds, are felt along the palms of my hands. The blessings from each coworker ring inside my ears as if they were said to me just yesterday. The soft fabrics and the faint smell of new clothes fills my nose as the fond memories of a shopping spree, taken that afternoon, are remembered.   My senses become tempted, once again, as the memories of the heavenly scented Italian pastas tease my nose. It was then that the words of the Happy Birthday Song sung by all the waiters, my family and friends, had a new meaning.

With moist eyes they, sang to a young woman who could have met with death a week after she had turned 16 two years ago. The twinkle in her eye, sound of her laughter, and the feeling of her presence may have only been memories slowly fading from the mind. That birthday could have been rendered as only a time of a painful reflection of the violent event.  Instead there was rejoicing.

           Backtracking almost two years earlier, on the evening of July 31, 2002 , I was enjoying a get together hosted by my older brother, Marcus.  He had a few of his friends over to our apartment.  Out of the country, was our mom enjoying her Mother’s Day present, which was a vacation to Korea with my older sister.  Just before Eric and I left the apartment, my mother called. There I stood talking to her excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning, about the night’s events. Aware of the shortage in time, I said my goodbyes soon after. I told her I loved her, and at that moment my heart stood still. It felt almost as if it was going to be the last time I would hear her voice. Not wanting to fret, I shook off those unsettling thoughts and went with my childhood buddy, Eric Brown, who had volunteered to take me back to my Aunt and Uncle’s house where I was staying while mom was away.

           15 minutes later that night the barrel of a pistol held by Roy Ratcliff stared me straight in the eyes. Trapped on a barren hill, with water towers to the left, and the moonlight sending eerie shadows across the desert, were Eric and I alone. The stench of old whiskey and Marlboro cigarettes filled the Bronco, as he vehemently demanded all our money and cell phones. Panic seized me; we had nothing to give him.

Terror stricken and shaking I was forced to lie down on the cold hard floor of the Bronco as Eric was ordered out at gunpoint. I could hear them walk away. Eric’s voice faded in the night as he shouted for me to stay down and reassured me, as much as he could, that everything would be okay. The sound of duct tape resounded in my ears as Eric’s muffled breathing yanked at the strings of my heart. My God, did I pray.  I pleaded for our lives, and demanded that both Eric and I would survive.

There Eric was, his 18^th birthday to be officially celebrated the following day.  There I was, just sixteen years old, going to be a Junior in High School.   No way were we going to go down like that.   I held on to that hope as a child would hold onto to their mother when fear is about him.  The minutes ticked by, and the ugly games began.

Duct tape was bound tightly about my wrists and arms.  It covered my eyes and mouth, went around my back, the driver’s seat and into my hair. The seat and I were one. His raspy voice gave false assurances that he did not want to harm either Eric or myself. I knew most of the statements were a lies but they gave me hope.   They gave me something to hold onto.

About 2 hours later, approximately 1:00 am another vehicle arrived.  Minutes later, the sound of another female in fear, filled my ears. She too was forced into the back of the vehicle with me.  The moment we touched I knew that we were going to survive.

Together we comforted one another through the terror and pain filled night. Together we sang each other to sleep. Together we fought back.

On the morning of August 1, 2002 , Jacque Marris, and I knew that we would never again allow ourselves to experience the horrors inflicted on us of the previous night. Roy Ratcliff was going to see the wrath of the two small women that he randomly chose to kidnap.

After many 1,2,3’s and reassuring one another that we were not going to go to Juvenile Hall, nor to hell for what we were about to do the plan was executed. Simultaneously, Jacque stabbed Ratcliff in his neck, with all her might as I smashed his face with his whiskey bottle.

We shoved him out of the Bronco, locked the doors, rolled up the windows, and grabbed the keys lying on the passenger seat. We said a bad word when we realized that we had the wrong set. We had grabbed the keys for the vehicle that Ratcliff had abandoned.  He still had the keys for the Bronco.  There we were stranded in the mountains, locked inside a Bronco, with man we had unsuccessfully tried to kill outside with two loaded guns and the keys to the car. We were trapped.

He demanded we let him in.  We refused.  He swore that if we did not open the door he would count to three and unload every bullet into us.  We still refused.   With both guns trained on us he counted, and he counted. Never did he reach three. He would pass out before the word could slip from his lips. Consciousness finally found him as death slipped back into the shadows of his future. We had no choice but to unlock the doors and meet our destiny, our survival .

           As the afternoon crept upon us, while Roy Ratcliff napped, Jacque and I brightened each other’s spirits by quietly joking about his stupidity and definite lack of good sense or any other positive qualities.  We talked of the idea of being on television in hopes of no mug shots. “He should not have messed with the short people,” we were saying.   Believe me when I tell you that they can be feisty and awfully scary.  Our amusement was short lived as the beating of helicopter blades was suddenly heard. The police had spotted the Bronco. Our fears came to the surface again. “Please God,” we prayed “we got this far, don’t let this be the end, don’t let us die.”

The Bronco roared to life, and cascaded down the hill.  We later found out that guns were trained upon the vehicle as it tried to outrun the Kern Country Police. Time stood still.   The Bronco got caught on a boulder. With a loaded gun in hand Ratcliff climbed to the back where Jacque and I sat taped to the seats.

The first shots were fired.  Bullets slammed into the Bronco. I watched in terror as the driver’s seat bounced backwards towards my face with each connecting bullet. Ratcliff’s flesh was torn with bullet holes, as his life drained from his body.

Seconds later Jacque and I were in each other’s arms crying and thanking God that we survived.  It was only later after talking to the authorities that I realized  one of the miracles, which saved both of our lives, was not only a supernatural power but the implementation of California ’s first emergency broadcast system for abducted children known as the AMBER ALERT.

The Amber Alert is based upon the concept that the more eyes the better and I and here to tell you IT WORKS.  This system is, metaphorically speaking, a three legged stool which is comprised of media, law enforcement, and all those within the community from which the child was abducted. If the ALERT had not been implemented in California during the summer of 2002, Jacque & I could easily have been buried as teens with our families and friends left to morn the loss of their loved ones.  Jacqueline Marris would not have had the chance to graduate from Highland High School and journey into adulthood while pursuing a career in cosmology.  I would not have had the chance to graduate from Quartz Hill High School as a Valedictorian, and enter UCLA to major in Communications. Eric would have had to serve this nation in Iraq while carrying the burden of loosing his childhood friend. Frank would have had to carry on without the excitement of Jacque’s presence while he worked for a company that stocks several local grocery stores.

Because of the AMBAER ALERT the Cal Trans worker spotted the white Bronco only hours before we were rescued. Because of the AMBER ALERT Bonnie Hernandez an animal control woman noticed the Bronco and alerted the authorities, soon before we were found. Because of the AMBER ALERT we survived.

More than 100 lives have been saved by this very alert. More than 100 families get to hold their children in their arms and watch them live their precious lives.  Amber Hagerman, Jacob Wetterling, Morgan­­­ Nick, Adam Walsh, Samantha Runion, Danielle Van Dam child; these children may have been with their families today if the AMBER ALERT were in effect when their abductions took place.

Your son, daughter, grandchild, niece, nephew, or next-door neighbor may become a future abductor’s target.  An AMBER plan needs to be implemented in every town of every state in this country, along with act of spreading the knowledge of three key factors of survival which I discovered during my kidnapping. First remain calm. This gives one the chance to analyze the situation while not allowing the terror filled emotions to surface. Second, never give up hope. If one gives up, the abductor wins. Third, fight back if and only if the opportunity arises. This one act may be the key to survival. The children today are tomorrow’s future. Every child needs to be cherished and protected.  It takes a village, a community, a state, and an AMBER ALERT to provide that protection.

The Illinois Broadcasting Association plays a major role in that protection. Through their undying efforts to better human life and society as a whole, which was evidenced during last night’s ceremony, lead them to their involvement in the implementation of the AMBER ALERT. I personally would like to extend my gratitude towards all in IBA for taking a risk and backing the alert. Your efforts have not only saved the lives of several precious endangered lives, but have brought those abducted children home safe. I thank-you all, and am most beholden to each of you.

Florida Department of Law Enforcement Speech

Envision eight men sitting anxiously in a boat that in no wider than 2-3 feet, stretching farther than nine feet, and sitting only inches above water. They, along with several other teams, are waiting for the single gun shot to announce the crew race commencement. Suddenly it is heard, the race begins. All the boats shoot forward, except one. Imagine if the men in the boat decided to row at their own pace. Without making forward progress, ores would begin snapping from colliding with one another, the boat would begin tipping violently, ending with a capsized boat. It would be then that the knowledge of failure would set in. as the hope of winning disappears. It takes working together in unison to make the progression towards victory. Each member must row on the same beat; each member must think of themselves as a segment of a seamless partnership. This same principle is applied when it comes to issuing and carrying out an AMBER ALERT.

When California initiated it’s first alert, in August of 2002, twelve groups came together as partners to find the two missing children: hwy patrol, FBI, Los Angeles County police department, Orange County police department, Kern County Police Department, the FAA, Cal Trans (the California transportation agency), the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, the U.S. border patrol, television, radio, and newspaper. Their coming together, at that precise moment in time, saved the lives of me and another young woman, Jacque Marris.

            Backtracking to the eve of that day, July 31 2002 , I was enjoying a get together hosted by my big brother, Marcus.  He had a few of his friends over to our apartment.  Out of the country, was our mom enjoying her Mother’s Day present, which was a vacation in Korea with my older sister.  Just before Eric and I left the apartment, my mother called. There I stood talking to her excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning, about the night’s events. Aware of the shortage in time, I said my goodbyes soon after. I told her I loved her, and at that moment my heart stood still. It was almost as if it was going to be the last time I would hear her voice. Not wanting to fret, I shook off those scary thoughts and went with my childhood buddy, Eric Brown, who had volunteered to take me back to my Aunt and Uncle’s house where I was staying while mom was away.

            15 minutes later that night the barrel of a pistol held by Roy Ratcliff stared me straight in the eyes. Trapped on a barren hill, with water towers to the left, and the moonlight sending eerie shadows across the desert, were Eric and I alone. The stench of old whiskey and Marlboro cigarettes filled the Bronco, as he vehemently demanded all our money and cell phones. Panic seized me; we had nothing to give him.

Terror stricken and shaking I was forced to lie down on the cold hard floor of the Bronco as Eric was ordered out at gunpoint. I could hear them walk away. Eric’s voice faded in the night as he shouted for me to stay down and reassured me, as much as he could, that everything would be okay. The sound of duct tape resounded in my ears as Eric’s muffled breathing yanked at the strings of my heart. My God, did I pray.  I pleaded for our lives, and demanded that both Eric and I would survive.

There Eric was, his 18^th birthday to be officially celebrated the following day.  There I was, just sixteen years old, going to be a Junior in High School.   No way were we going to go down like that.   I held on to that hope as a child would hold onto to their mother when fear is about him.  The minutes ticked by, and the ugly games began.

Duct tape was bound tightly around my wrists and arms.  It covered my eyes and mouth, went around my back, the driver’s seat and into my hair. The seat and I were one. His raspy voice gave false assurances that he did not want to harm either Eric or myself. I knew most of the statements were a lies but they gave me hope.   They gave me something to hold onto.

About 2 hours later, approximately 1:00am another vehicle arrived.  Minutes later, the sound of another female in fear, filled my ears. She too was forced into the back of the vehicle with me.  The moment we touched I knew that we were going to survive.

As partners we comforted one another through the terror and pain filled night. As partners we sang each other to sleep. As partners we fought back.

On the morning of August 1, 2002 , when Ratcliff briefly stopped at a gas station, unbeknown to us California ’s first AMBER ALERT had been authorized. The FBI back in Lancaster was bringing computers to set up at the local police station; the media had already received the photos and description of Jacque, Ratcliff, the hijacked vehicle, and myself; the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children had begun decimating mine and Jacques photographs to rest of the nation, the FAA had just notified a specific air traffic controller of his duty to direct all the aircraft in search for me and Jacque, the U.S. border patrol had been alerted the begin looking for the vehicle in which Ratcliff was driving, the Cal Trans Agency had just agreed to put up the hwy ALERTS, the Orange County and Kern county police along with the California hwy Patrol had been altered and were on the look out, volunteers had arrived to man the phone banks, people within the community had begun to comb the city and surrounding areas; the 12 groups had formed a solid team, a seamless partnership, to bring us home.

Jacque Marris, and I knew that we would never again allow ourselves to experience the horrors inflicted upon us of the previous night. Roy Ratcliff was going to see the wrath of the two small women whom he randomly chose to kidnap.

After many 1,2,3’s and reassuring one another that we were not going to go to Juvenile Hall, nor to hell for what we were about to do the plan was executed. Simultaneously, Jacque stabbed Ratcliff in his neck, with all her might as I smashed his face with his whiskey bottle.

We shoved him out of the Bronco, locked the doors, rolled up the windows, and grabbed the keys lying on the passenger seat. We said a bad word when we realized that we had the wrong set. We had grabbed the keys for the vehicle that Ratcliff had abandoned.  He still had the keys for the Bronco.  There we were stranded in the mountains, locked inside a Bronco, with man we had unsuccessfully tried to kill outside with two loaded guns and the keys to the car. We were trapped.

He demanded we let him in.  We refused.  He swore that if we did not open the door he would count to three and unload every bullet into us.  We still refused.   With both guns trained on us he counted, and he counted. Never did he reach three. He would pass out before the word could slip from his lips. Consciousness finally found him as death slipped back into the shadows of his future. We had no choice but to unlock the doors and meet our destiny, our survival

            As the afternoon crept upon us, while Roy Ratcliff napped, Jacque and I brightened each other’s spirits by quietly joking about his stupidity and definite lack of good sense or any other positive qualities.  We talked of the idea of being on television in hopes of no mug shots. “He should not have messed with the short people,” we were saying.   Believe me when I tell you that they can be feisty and awfully scary.  Our amusement was short lived as the beating of helicopter blades was suddenly heard. The police had spotted the Bronco. Our fears came to the surface again. “Please God,” we prayed “we got this far, don’t let this be the end, don’t let us die.”

The Bronco roared to life, and cascaded down the hill.  We later found out that guns were trained upon the vehicle as it tried to outrun the Kern Country Police. Time stood still.   The Bronco got caught on a boulder. With a loaded gun in hand Ratcliff climbed to the back where Jacque and I sat taped to the seats.

The first shots were fired.  Bullets slammed into the Bronco. I watched in terror as the driver’s seat bounced backwards towards my face with each connecting bullet. Ratcliff’s flesh was torn with bullet holes, as his life drained from his body.

Seconds later Jacque and I were in each other’s arms crying and thanking God that we survived.  It was only later after talking to the authorities that I realized one of the miracles, which saved both of our lives, was not only a supernatural power but the implementation of California ’s first emergency broadcast system for abducted children known as the AMBER ALERT.

The Amber Alert is based upon the concept of the more eyes the better. This system is, metaphorically speaking, a three legged stool which is comprised of media, law enforcement, and all those within the community from which the child was abducted. To make the ABER ALERT work, it takes the coming together and the formation of partnerships between several agencies and multitudes of people. Because of that mass cooperation the Cal Trans worker recognized white Bronco only hours before we were rescued. Because of the seamless collaboration Bonnie Hernandez an animal control officer was made aware of crises, spotted the Bronco, and alerted the authorities. Because of that vital partnership we survived.

If the ALERT had not been implemented in California during the summer of 2002, Jacque & I could easily have been buried as teens with our families and friends left to morn the loss of their loved ones.  Jacqueline Marris would not have had the chance to graduate from Highland High School and journey into adulthood while pursuing a career in cosmology.  I would not have had the chance to graduate from Quartz Hill High School as a Valedictorian, and enter UCLA to major in Communications. Eric would have had to serve this nation in Iraq while carrying the burden of loosing his childhood friend. Frank would have had to carry on without the excitement of Jacque’s presence while he worked for a company that stocks several local grocery stores.

More than 100 lives have been saved by these partnerships in other communities.  More than 100 families get to hold their children in their arms and watch them live their precious lives.  Amber Haggerman, Jacob Wetterling, Morgan­­­ Nick, Adam Walsh, Samantha Runion, Danielle Van Dam child; these children may have been with their families today if the AMBER SYSTEM was in effect when their abductions took place.  

            Your son, daughter, grandchild, niece, nephew, or next-door neighbor may become a future abductor’s target. The children today are tomorrow’s future. Every child needs to be cherished and protected.  It takes a village, a community, a state, nation in partnership to provide that protection.