Kevin is Missing

Last evening, Monday, August 24, 2009, my great grandson Kevin Pierron walked out the back door of my house and vanished. The terrible ordeal was over 3 1/2 hours later, and Kevin was safe. But, as I say, it was terrible, one of those situations you sometimes hear about, but of course hope never happen to you.

Kevin is five years old. I am happy to say that today he attended his first school day, his first of three days of orientation for kindergarten. It was all quite refreshing. In that short period, Kevin actively took part in answering questions about a story all the kids listened to. He was eager and happy to be there, having awakened 45 minutes ahead of the house alarm.

But last evening was not the least bit refreshing.

I was on the way home from the office at 5:15 p.m., made a stop at a pharmacy to pick up two medications, and arrived home at 5:45 p.m.

Kevin had heard my ring of the phone to put the phone on Call Forwarding from the office, so he knew his Pop Pop would be home in a few minutes. He already had been with Grandma (actually, Mom Mom is Great Grandma) to get KFC grilled chicken. He said with some emphasis that he was really hungry.

But at 5:45 p.m., he was outside somewhere. Grandma had twice looked for him in the back yard. No Kevin. However, he often had climbed the cyclone fence to meet up with other hombres of his age or maybe a little older. He almost always was no more than two houses away in the back.

It was puzzling this time because Kevin usually came home at the right time on his own, or others with dinner plans of their own had more or less sent him home.

Kevin’s Uncle, Tom, walked out of the house during this period to go to a band practice. He sometimes has taken Kevin with him, but not this time.

Shortly after 6:15 p.m., with no Kevin yet, I made a couple of searches in the back. I could see nobody in the back yards nor out on the next street over.

As it grew darker, surely he would know to come home, especially since he is so hungry.

But still no Kevin. I got into my car and drove around to the other street, and for the next 20 minutes or so, knocked on doors. I was struck with the hesitancy of people nowadays to open their doors. Maybe it was the time of day; it was just an hour before dark.

After driving up and down several side streets and finding Kevin’s Grandmother (not Mom Mom) visiting a friend two blocks away and telling her Kevin was missing, I returned home for maybe the fifth time and phoned 911.

By this time, two men whom I had contacted in the house visits were joining me in the search in their cars.

A policeman drove up about 7:30 p.m.

He asked for the scenario and soon started a search of the house. He was joined by other policemen, who were thorough in their room by room search. “Sometimes we find kids sleeping under a bed,” said one.

A police sergeant arrived to ask some more questions. The first officer on the scene had taken down most of the vital information, and we had provided him with two photos of Kevin. The sergeant was the friendliest of the contingent; that is, he seemed to be calming and compassionate.

As more police cars were parked outside, the search was expanded to include two playgrounds nearly one mile away and a small park less than one-half mile away.

Police wanted to know where Kevin’s Mother and Father were. Both share custody of Kevin. His Daddy was at work; his mother presumably at home in her apartment three miles away. I do not know whether they actually contacted her, but their questions indicated they were planning to.

For a policeman in such situations, every character in the caper is a suspect. Of course, that’s as it should be.

Later, detectives appeared to ask more questions.

In the meantime, I had finally been able to reach my son, Uncle Tom, to ask him to come home, and I also contacted my daughter-in-law, who was with her husband and their two children having a late dinner out.

Police were driving around the neighborhood from street to street. They were, of course, looking for a little boy. However, their activity attracted attention and that pretty much cracked the case.

Kevin had left our back yard and almost immediately went to a house another half-block away, on a side street that runs into Pearson. The adults there said they saw the police cars driving back and forth, but it did not dawn on them that they might be looking for the little boy who had come to their house.

He had brazenly knocked on their door because he knew a little boy lived there and Kevin wanted to know if he could come in and play. As it turned out, there were three children there so Kevin had new playmates suddenly.

A boy who lived in the house directly in back of us had been Kevin’s constant buddy for more than a year, but he had moved to Georgia in early July, and Kevin really missed having fun with his friend. What we know now is that Kevin spent a number of days looking for a replacement friend or two.

Last evening, he must have been happy as can be with three new friends. They were playing computer games. Kevin, like his Daddy, and his Grandfather, is a computer expert.

I don’t know exactly how Kevin’s presence in the house was revealed. But I was sitting in the living room with the nice police sergeant on a cell phone. He suddenly blurted out: “I think we found him!” I am not very good at controlling my emotions in crises, and I bawled. Sorry. But I didn’t know what “found” meant yet!!

In a minute, Kevin came in the back door, escorted, I think, by the first policeman to have arrived on the scene.

The word got around quickly to the searching policemen, and in a minute, the living room had about eight policemen all trying to listen to Kevin.

In the first place, Kevin seemed somewhat annoyed that they considered him “lost”. “I wasn’t lost.” Kevin protested. Several in his audience replied almost in unison: “But WE DIDN’T KNOW WHERE YOU WERE!!”

They asked him what phone numbers he knew, and although Kevin normally can recite several family phone numbers, he now was speechless as he seemed to start realizing this all was a pretty big deal. Finally, he remembered my office phone number, which seemed to satisfy the policemen.

One policeman, he might have been a Captain, said several neighbors on Pearson had told them Kevin was rather infamous for knocking on their door and asking for candy or kids to play with. This was not a good thing, the policeman concluded.

Obviously, this is something a five-year-old needs guidance on.

He wanted his supper, though three hours late. The grilled chicken was re-heated, but the once-hungry Kevin didn’t eat much.

Today, ironically, during kindergarten orientation, Kevin again met one of the boys he played with last night. The boy’s Mother, who was attending the orientation, told him he is welcome to come and play again, but only if his grandmother is with him to demonstrate that she knows where he is.