The revival of the search for Etan Patz’s body and his murderer
has brought back so many emotions I thought, hoped, I would never feel again.
This little boy, just six years old, disappeared on his way to school May 26th
1979. Etan’s photo preserves that wonderful look of guileless wonder and
expectation bright young boys of that age have, still innocent – at the far
edge of babyhood when they are moving towards independence to embrace the
world. Fearlessly expecting the world to embrace them back with good intentions.
Like a photo of my own son who in the summer of 1979 went missing.
There are memories of that day that will forever be with me,
always.
It was a Saturday, no school, we had had a busy fun morning
outside in the beautiful weather. The darling boys, my 3 y/o toddler Travis and
6 y/o Jason were tuckered out and both had to be carried sleeping from the car
into the house and tucked in their beds. I took advantage of the time and hoped
for two hours to catch up on some cleaning and opened all the windows and doors
for a good airing out. We had locks on our screen doors and screens as my
little one was a climber. I was folding freshly laundered clothing and had silently
gone in the boys’ room to put the clothing in their chest of drawers and to
check on them. They were both soundly sleeping. I stopped for a moment and
gazed at them. To me they were the most beautiful beings I had ever seen; both
were charming in their own ways. My Travis’ his straight mahogany hair sticking
up this way and that as he slept, his dare devil attitude and mischievousness
written on the small smile he wore in his sleep. Jason’s blond curls fell onto
his face, which also bore a small smile as he dreamed. Two angelic beings –
just as all young children appear in their sleep. Just as a sleeping Etan Patz
was looked upon by his own parents.
But my thoughts were far from Etan Patz, even though it was
still mentioned frequently: occurring only a couple of months ago. My thoughts
were on putting away the cleaning supplies and picking up anything I may have
missed – I knew by looking at my sleeping children I was lucky if I had 15
minutes before they awoke. No more than five minutes had passed when I had reentered
the bedroom to put one of Travis’ stuffed toys in his toy chest. Travis was
fast asleep, he had worn himself out; he had fallen back into a deep sleep.
Jason was gone.
Unconcerned at first I called for him quietly so I would not
disturb Travis and thought he had either gone into the bathroom or to the
kitchen. He was nowhere to be found in the house. Nowhere. I searched outside
calling frantically! I called the police. Jason had been a favorite of the neighbors
and they were all out in force looking, my mother arrived and took Travis from
my hesitant arms, within five minutes there were police cars and detectives,
policeman on foot, in cars, questions, interviewing neighbors and the construction
worker paving the far end of the street, photos – all this occurring as I
somehow managed to exist through the utter anguish that contorted my very core,
an anguish and fear I will never ever be able to convey in words. No one saw my
little boy. No one saw my beloved firstborn. The thoughts that went through my
head, so horrid, so terrible as my mind incorporated strong defense mechanisms
so I would not fall apart. Tears fell silently from time to time; I had to gain
control to keep clear. My precious boy needed me. Where was he? Who would take
him? Jason never wandered off before but I remembered how proud and excited he
was to walk to school all by himself. I was disconcerted and not wholly on
board at first but the school was encouraging parents to allow children in the
immediate vicinity to walk to school to cut down on traffic at the Long Island,
N.Y. school. It was a 2 ½ block straight shot from the corner of our lane to
the school so I could stand and watch him and be there waiting for him. We had
walked the route many times to explore a small one acre preserved wooded area where
the boys could also climb huge rocks. Further
on down by the school was a park with slides, swings, sandbox and other great
playground equipment. In those days, we
walked everywhere. The “village” began at the far end of our block, we simply
made a right and there were two long blocks of all kinds of shopping. Jason
knew that route as well. He knew the butcher, the pharmacist, the ladies at the
“five and ten,” the librarian, the grocers and many of the little shops – even my
physician. All were searched, all were being searched. People and Police alike
were trying to appear calm but Etan Patz disappearance was too fresh. The similarities
between the two boys physical description was too close. Their worried looks
intensified my fears.
It was just an hour that had gone by but it felt like an
eternity! At that point I heard cheerful relieved voices! He was found up the block
at the wooded preserve: he had finished collecting various leaves, bugs, pebbles
and was sitting on a rock singing Sesame Street songs.
When I saw him coming down the lane, my precious child
smiling, one little hand in the tall policeman’s, the other holding his plastic
Oscar the Grouch bucket full of his treasures and wearing the policeman’s huge
hat, the world got brighter, I got lighter, I could feel the blood rush into
face and I ran to him and gathered him in my arms.
He was not expecting all the policemen, police cars,
detectives and neighbors. His lushly lashed eyes went from fun and excitement
to a worried confusion that mostly disappeared when he espied grandma holding
my beloved Travis and his whole face was alight! I held him tightly against me
and told him I loved him.
He turned that beautiful face to me, his huge bright water blue eyes full of discovery, his momentary confusion dissolved and with a dazzling smile Jason declared:
“Mommy I can feel your heart!”
“You are my heart” I choked out.
23Apr2012©Aquila
