When I was deciding what to write today, my mind kept wandering to something that happened earlier this week which had given me great satisfaction as a journalist and as a human being. I debated for several hours about whether or not I wanted to write about it; I finally decided to go forward with it.
One of the questions that I am most frequently asked is whether being a writer who covers crime on a daily basis – everything from child rape to missing persons – ever gets to me. The answer to that question is yes. I don't think you could call yourself a human being if that subject matter didn't bother you. However, a writer has to put all of that aside. In my case, I have a strong desire to make some sort of difference, especially in the cases involving missing persons. Sadly, of all the cases I have covered, I can think of maybe two that have had happy endings. Nonetheless, the few that do turn out well make it all worthwhile.
In the story I am about to relate to you, I am going to change the person's name and the dates on which the incidents mentioned in the newspapers occurred in order to protect her identity. In the end, those details are not as important as how the case turned out.
On Monday, I received an email from a young lady who I shall hereto refer to as Jane, who was trying to find her family. It was not the typical type of request that I receive, but it was interesting, nonetheless. Jane said that she had been adopted and had spent the last year trying to locate the family of her biological father.
"I was adopted, and just recently found my birth-mother, and she told me that my biological father was <redacted>. After almost a year of searching, I found out that he was murdered in 2000 … He never knew that I was born, let alone conceived because my mother never told him that she was pregnant."
Jane's mother told her that she did not know much about her father, and the police department that investigated her father's death would not share any of the details with her. All Jane had to go on was her father's name and the fact that he had two brothers. She had tried various methods and search engines to try to locate them, but to no avail.
I took the information that Jane gave me and I entered it into an online information database that is often used by the government and members of law enforcement. Within about ten minutes, I was able to uncover what had actually happened to Jane's father.
According to the police reports, the bodies of Jane's father and that of another man were found inside a house. The other man's body had been found in a bedroom, while Jane's father's body had been found in the basement of the house. I had expected to find this information; however, I did not expect what I read next. According to the police, the man in the bedroom had been dead for two days longer than Jane's father. When officers found the body of Jane's father, they discovered a handgun lying next to it. Jane's father, according to the police report, had murdered the other man and then later shot himself. The motive for the murder-suicide was unknown.
Uncovering the truth about Jane's father was not a very pleasurable experience. I thought about it for several minutes before coming to the conclusion that I had to tell her. I did not want her to somehow stumble upon it by herself and not have anyone there for her.
Jane answered the phone on the third or fourth ring and I then explained to her what I had uncovered. Rather than beat around the bush, I was straight-forward as I relayed the information to her. There was a brief pause on the line and, when she once again spoke, there was emptiness in her voice that hadn't been there before. I can't imagine how she must have been feeling. To learn that you had been adopted and then to find out your father is dead – a murder victim – is one thing, but then to find out that he had killed someone and that he then had taken his own life is another thing altogether. Nonetheless, Jane quickly pulled herself together and, shortly thereafter, our call ended.
After uncovering the information about Jane's father, I attempted to locate her uncles. I tried a variety of methods and came up with several addresses and phone numbers, but whenever I called them, I kept reached those annoying recordings that explain that the telephone line had been disconnected.
While I was attempting to trace her father's brothers, Jane managed to locate an obituary for her father. She ran the names of the family members that were listed in it through various public search directories, but was unable to turn up any current information on any of them. She then forwarded the obituary to me, and asked me if there was anything I could do with it.
There were roughly ten people listed in the obituary as family members. I ran each of the names through the various databases I have access to and cross-referenced them with motor vehicle records. I expected to get a hit right away, but they either came back with little information or the information was outdated. I was getting to the end of the list when I ran the name for Jane's great aunt. I expected little to come of it, but was pleasantly surprised when it came back as a positive hit and with a recent address. There was, however, no contact phone number.
I took the address associated with the aunt, and entered it into a reverse directory, but it came back with no results. I then conducted a search of all male subjects with the same last name who lived in the same area. The database then spit out two matches and two phone numbers. I hoped one might be the aunt's husband, but was admittedly skeptical, as there was no telling whether Jane's great aunt would still be alive.
After thinking carefully about what I would say, I called the first number on the list. What sounded like an older woman answered the phone. When I asked to speak with Jane's aunt, the woman told me to please hold; a few moments later, she put what sounded like a much older woman on the phone. After explaining the situation to her and how I came to be involved – not a quick and easy thing to explain – the woman, who turned out to be Jane's aunt, expressed excitement over the fact that her nephew had a living daughter. She was overjoyed and she quickly jotted down the contact information for Jane. She even requested my own contact information and asked whether it would be ok for her to contact me later to let me know how it had all panned out. I agreed, gave her my information, and then I said my goodbye. I then quickly called Jane and told her to give her new family a call. I'll never forget the sound of joy that came through her voice when she thanked me for helping her. Then, yesterday, she sent me a very touching email, which read in part:
"I can't thank you enough for everything you have done for me. I truly appreciate it. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I spent the whole night talking to my relatives … I am going to visit [my father's] grave and finally get to say goodbye. You have helped me in a way that nobody ever has. Thank you so much for bringing me family, and closure about my father's death. You are more than welcome to come meet all of us. We are now your family too."
As of this writing, I have not written my response to Jane. To be honest, I'm not sure what to say. Her one paragraph note is one of the most beautiful and heartfelt things I have ever received. Her words validated everything I have ever done in this line of work and made it all worthwhile. I can't begin to explain to you how much joy that brings to me.
I hope I can, someday, help another person like Jane. In the meantime, I have a reply I need to start working on…