What About the Missing? Organizations NEED Donations

by Cynthia Caron

First let me say, I am so very sorry for the way the Karen Klein, the 68 year old woman on the bus, who was treated horribly by the bratty bullying teens with terrible words hurled at the woman. Nobody deserves to be treated that way and those that did the bullying should need to have to make amends by community service, assisting those who cannot help themselves is a good thought, supervised of course.

But I must add...am I right to feel this way? $400,000 raised by caring people from around the world? I want nothing more than to see Karen Klein be able to use that money to fund her living expenses so that she doesn't have to work if she chooses not to. Also to use it towards enjoying precious times with her 8 grandchildren without having to worry how to come up with extra money for each of their birthdays.

However, with that said, I cannot help feeling very sad. Maybe even a bit jealous? It is so hard to raise funds for our 501c3 nonprofit in which we assist law enforcement and families of missing loved ones. Not just "missing" as in, "where is Uncle Joe that moved to Arizona years ago?" and not "I wonder where my high school friend went? I've not heard from him/her in years?" Those are not missing loved ones. Missing loved ones are somebody's child, no matter the age, that disappeared off the face of the earth in the middle of a normal life. One who did not show up to work and was not home for a very important family event. One who would NEVER go missing on their own. One who has children at home wondering where their mommy or daddy is and family not knowing how to explain except to say "We are looking, honey." Why can't their pain and the awful roller coaster ride of not knowing if their child is alive or dead not touch the hearts of the same people who donated to Karen Klein?

I know fundraising is very difficult, trust me…we do it all of the time…yet, our nonprofit existed of 85% of donations by myself out of my own personal funds and those of a few staff members. I know other nonprofits helping families of missing and doing search and rescue experience the very same situation. Our nonprofit, for example, asks for very little. Perhaps a $5.00 donation. If 100 people donated $5.00 that would be $500 and would cover the costs of printing posters for missing loved ones for four families. A far cry from what we really need but every penny helps. We are all 100% volunteers, as are most nonprofits who do not have government grants. We do not draw salaries and our funds are running short. We are doing all possible to reach out and get the public to please take notice of our work, of the pain our families are enduring and of the many more things we want to do for them…and are struggling due to funding. Bank accounts that hold less than $600.

As stated, this is not only for LostNMissing Inc, this is also a problem our families of missing are enduring, as well. They depend on us for services, yet at the same time many are trying to raise funds for searches to bring their children's bodies home. Now that is sad. , Thus far this year we've only raised $1,256 for our organization from public donations. Our families raise an average of $5,000 (if they are lucky) and yet....over $400,000 has gone towards helping this woman who had to endure kids disrespecting her in the most nasty way. WHY do people not care to donate to help find missing loved ones, too? Am I wrong for feeling this way?

It is frustrating. Over 2000 loved ones go missing EVERY DAY. Families are having to halt searches when they have very good leads, media coverage only goes so far...billboards are needed for awareness and the cost is unbelievable! Families need to increase or add rewards. We are of the firm believe that EVERYONE missing...someone holds the answers. We need people to be more accountable to helping these families...people need to have a conscience who have information that can help these families. I believe the reason donations are not coming in is because the general public has no idea what it is like to lose a missing loved one. It doesn't touch their hearts" in the way that they want to help because they've never experienced it" or they feel it is "well covered" or that it happens "so rarely" that it is not truly a cause to support. How wrong they are. Every missing person is someone's missing child.

The networks have reality shows from "evicting people from their apartments" to "chasing hogs in the wild" and they need to really re-focus and start doing some reality shows of what it is like to be a parent of a missing child. Perhaps walk in the shoes of families and the roller coaster ride of pain to see what they are going through. Now that is reality. I hope producers out there start thinking of helping families of missing instead of sensationalizing people who eat drywall and rocks. And I hope those who have the means to donate will consider donating towards any and all organizations that are struggling, without government grants, and who are all 100% volunteers trying to help these families of missing.

Here are just a few nonprofit organizations that are in need of funding:

www.lostnmissing.com LostNMissing Inc.
www.lrcf.org Laura Recovery Center
www.blackandmissinginc.com Black & Missing Foundation
www.ncmissingpersons.org Cue Center
www.projectjason.org Project Jason
www.kristenfoundation.org Kristen Foundation
http://heidisearchcenter.com Heidi Search Center

Won't you take a moment today and donate whatever you can afford? Even if only $5.00. Every bit helps.

Cynthia Caron
President/Founder
LostNMissing, Inc.
PH: 603.548.6548
www.lostnmissing.

   

Austin, We Will Always Remember

by Anita Sullivan

“I often wonder if tears and prayers could bring you back to us... Why aren’t you already here?” 

excerpt from Jim Jolkowski on the 11^th anniversary of missing his son Jason, 

the inspiration for Project Jason 

This month marks five years of missing my brother Austin .  There was a completely surreal moment yesterday when I was enjoying the quiet of being home alone, but knowing my kids were having fun with family, and my husband was spending time serving at a youth camp.  It quickly took me back to almost five years ago, when my son was away spending time with family and my husband and I were enjoying some rare quiet time.  We spent the first evening with my brother, watching a funny movie.    

We planned dinners and fun things for the rest of the week.  But it didn’t happen.  Instead, one night was spent filing a police report, certain that Austin would walk back through the door and laugh at me.  Then the next days and nights were consumed by urgent phone calls, walking streets, passing out flyers, and comforting family. 

Sometimes five years seems like an eternity.  Then sometimes there’s a moment like that where it feels just a few heartbeats ago.

 

So much has happened, and yet so little has changed.  We’ve welcomed a little one that my brother would be very amused by, we’ve moved, we’ve gotten involved, we’ve grown older, we’ve welcomed new technology and new friends…. Yet, we have no more answers.  We have no less hurt. 

I’d like to be able to pull more out of the five year mark than simply remembering- some lessons learned, some pearls of wisdom.  But mostly I remember, which is often more painful than forgetting. 

I first wrote this when it was just One year, 11 months, 2 days and 1 week.  I sometimes update it as a reminder that we have made it through so much longer than we thought we would could or would have to.  We’ve found strength through faith and love, but yet I pray this is the last update I make.  One day little brother….

Four years, 11 months, 3 weeks and

five days since we saw you, heard you

hugged you.

Four years, 11 months, 3 weeks and

five days of searching, seeking, scouring

and devouring any piece of information

that would lead us to you.

Four years, 11 months, 3 weeks and

five days of still hearing your laugh and

seeing your smile, though only in our dreams.

Four years, 11 months, 3 weeks and

five days since our lives changed.

How many days are left?  We don’t know,

but we will continue for all of the rest of

the days on this journey until it ends, and

even then, a new journey will begin as we

walk with others.

-Anita Sullivan

 Anita Sullivan is the sister of a missing person, and long time advocate of victims, even before having a personal connection to the world of lost. During college,Anita found a passion for helping others and was involved in a variety of ministries. She then started a career in non-profit, first working with victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. She went on to work with at risk families through a supervised visitation program before spending several years in fundraising and advocacy. She now tries to reach people with a message of Hope through writing and speaking, while honoring her brother, Michael "Austin" Davis, who has been missing since 2007. To learn more about Anita, visit her at losingaustin.blogspot.com.  

In Support of the Journey

I’ll be there for you. Will you be here for me?

By Diana May-Waldman

Beverly Rose Potts disappeared before I was born, but I have always known about her. Her disappearance must have made an impact on my mother, in fact I think it terrified her.

I can no longer even count the times my mother scared the hell out of me by telling me about Beverly Potts.

Beverly disappeared on Friday, August 24, 1951 from Cleveland, Ohio and to date has never been found.

“She was watching the show wagon,” said my mother, “Back then the wagon would go from park to park and entertain people with all sorts of performers.”

This particular night, the show wagon was at Halloran Park, only a couple of blocks from where my grandmother lived.

She went to the show with a friend and a neighbor. When her friend had to be home by dark, Beverly decided she would stay for the whole show.

When Beverly had not returned home by 10 p.m. her family began looking for her and called the police.

It has been stated that over 1500 people had attended the show in the park and yet no one noticed anything out of the ordinary.

The Beverly Potts case was highly publicized and all tips were followed.

“The earth might as well have opened up and swallowed the child. She has vanished into nothing.” -Ben R. Tidyman in the Cleveland Plain Dealer, 9-4-’51

My cousin and I played a lot at Halloran Park. We had always known the story of Beverly and made sure that we were home by dark.

Even as I got older and became a teen, my mother reminded me of Beverly Potts.

“You better be where you say are going to be, God help you, if I find out any different. Do you want to end up missing like Beverly Potts?”

Whenever, my mother brought up Beverly Potts, I would roll my eyes and accuse her of trying to scare me.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” she would say, “Don’t you know, if anything ever happened to you, they might as well just put me away, because I would lose my mind!”

I didn’t understand the depth of my mother’s fear back then. I was a teen and I’d accuse of her of trying to run my life.

“Roll your eyes at me one time and I am going to knock you right in your head and then they are going to stay that way!” my mother would yell, “Beverly Potts mother cried every single day until she finally died from grief five years later!

My mother would wave her hands in the air. You could see the panic on her face just thinking about it.

“Wait, just wait until you have kids. You think I’m shitting you? Oh dear Mary, Mother of God–(my mother had a way with words) –just put me a straight jacket! Lock me up! If anything happened to you, your sister or your brothers, tell them to just lock me up! I’d lose my mind!”

When I had my own children, the moment I held them in my arms, I knew exactly what she was talking about.

And as my children grew older, I gave myself a false sense of security, reassuring myself that the boogie man only takes children. He only takes Beverly Potts, little girls.

There are over 2400 people reported missing every single day–this includes grown men, women, children and teens. Some of them are found and for others, the years pass and hope fades and I wonder how these mothers and fathers find the courage to go on.

If you’re a parent then chances are you have felt that moment of sheer panic at one time or another, when you lost your child for mere seconds.

My mother said she had lost me twice.

“Once when you were about four years old and playing in the backyard. Somehow you were able to open the gate and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was running up and down the street screaming. People started to come outside to help and here you were in the next door neighbors house playing with her bird. The second time you got lost walking home from school. Your brother was suppose to walk with you and forgot. You were missing for hours. The police finally found you walking around. I’ll never forget that day. It was one of the most horrible days of my life.”

I don’t remember being lost when I was four years old, but I do remember being lost when I started school and I do remember the look on my mother’s face. She was terrified. She hugged me and kissed me and hugged me some more, then said, “You little shit, I don’t know whether to beat your ass or hug you some more. I just about had a heart attack!”

As a mother, I understand now all that my mother has said to me. Having one of us go missing was one of her biggest fears. She wanted us to be kept safe and never be in harms way.

My heart aches for the families and friends that are searching for their loved ones. I can’t even begin to imagine what they must be going through. Ad I am not sure how to reach the masses and make them aware of how many are missing. The numbers are staggering.

What if, we all picked one missing person to feature on our facebook page a day? With a tool like facebook existing, and the numbers growing, we might find a missing person.

What if we pulled together and reached out to a family that has a loved one missing and asked what we could do to help them?

Why is it, that we always wait to do something when it finally happens to us?

I’ve had people tell me that my insistence about the missing is depressing. I understand that, I do. It can get depressing for me, as well. But what depresses me more is looking into the eyes of family member that is searching for answers or thinking about a missing person that might be alive and is waiting and counting on anyone of us to bring help.

We’re all in this together, so we might as well start looking out for one another. I’ll be there for you. Will you be here for me?

Diana May-Waldman- Bureau Editor for Worldwide Hippies in Rochester NY. Diana is the author of A Woman’s Song. Her poetry in this book deals with the struggles facing all women and the many facets of being a woman in the world today. She is a strong women’s and children’s advocate. A true example of the Hippie movement's continuing growth and sprit. 

Remembering the Missing

By Charles Moncrief

On Friday, September 16, I was invited to give the Invocation at an event honoring our nation’s Prisoners of War and Missing in Action (POW/MIA).

What might ordinarily go unnoticed, until the Master of Ceremonies called our attention to it, was the Honor Table. The moderator explained the symbolism.

The table is round -- to show our everlasting concern for our missing.

Set for six, the empty places represent Americans still missing from each of the five services -- Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, Coast Guard –– and civilians. This Honors Ceremony symbolizes that they are with us, here in spirit.

The tablecloth is white -- symbolizing the purity of their motives when answering the call to duty.

The single red rose, displayed in a vase, reminds us of the life of each of the missing, and the loved ones and friends of these Americans who keep the faith, awaiting answers.

The vase is tied with a red ribbon, symbol of our continued determination to account for our missing.

A slice of lemon on the bread plate is to remind us of the bitter fate of those captured and missing in a foreign land.

A pinch of salt symbolizes the tears endured by those missing and their families who seek answers.

The Bible represents the strength gained through faith to sustain those lost from our country, founded as one nation under God.

The glasses are inverted -- to symbolize their inability to share this day's toast.

The chairs are empty -- they are missing.



While I was moved deeply by this ceremony and the Moderator’s description of the Table of Honor, I was inescapably drawn to a brutal reality of others who are missing. It’s gratifying to know that so many groups are concerned with the missing. On this blog site, and on the Blog Talk Radio shows, these are just a few of the names we’ve read about:

Phylicia Barnes

Krishonda Townsend

Crystal Gayle Soles

Randy Wayne Leach

These and countless others have been taken from us.

We’ve read about the many -- too many -- who have been kidnapped and sold by human traffickers into some form of slavery. Their chairs, too, are empty. The bitter lemon peel and the salt of tears apply to them as well. These may not be missing in combat, but they too went through their own war zones. And the ones still alive have every justification when they wonder if they’ve been forgotten.

They have not been forgotten. Their captors may not be some nations’ military organizations. Their captors may not be some paramilitary group. Their captors may not be some crime syndicate. But when it gets down to the facts, the resulting circumstances are quite the same. An aggressor has inflicted misery, not only on the ones taken, but also on the families of the ones they took.

While we wonder if everyone is standing idly by, this is just not the case. I'm heartened when I read of a retired friend who sits in mall parking lots watching suspicious people from his car. He intervenes, mostly by becoming visible to these suspects who seem to be in the early stages of an assault on a woman coming out to her car. Joy comes to him on those occasions when the worthless scum break off their attack and drive away. What he does can be dangerous, but the rewards of a person’s safe passage through an infested parking lot can make the risks worthwhile.

Other organizations exist for the sole purpose of locating and bringing home the missing. One that comes to mind is the Cue Center for Missing Persons. And many organizations are committed, in whole or in part, to the safe return of the missing.

So please do take heart. If a loved one, or someone you may only know casually, turns up missing, there are those who care.

Grace and Peace,

Charles+

Anglican Priest, Charles Moncrief, serves up the issues of the day on a platter mixed with scripture, seriousness, and a sense of humor to create a ministry founded in love for his fellow man.

“I’m an Anglican Priest, disguised as a geek during the week. It’s REALLY tough to change my costume, since phone booths are getting hard to find!”