In the 1970s my wife was murdered, and my daughter – who was a toddler at the time – was kidnapped. It was the most horrifying experience I’ve ever endured. But as devastating as it was to learn of my wife’s death, my grief had to be temporarily set aside so I could stay focused on finding my daughter. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to realize the detective who had been assigned to investigate the case was inept, so, I began searching for my child on my own. I followed every clue that seemed remotely related to my wife’s murder, and ultimately I uncovered a letter that had been stolen by a homeless man that suggested my daughter had been taken to Kansas City -- except I didn’t know if it was Kansas City, Missouri, or Kansas City, Kansas.
Unsure of what step to take next, I randomly selected, and then, called a police department in Kansas City, Missouri. Fortunately, a very empathetic and capable police officer answered. He enlisted the help of the assistant District Attorney who volunteered to help expedite the search. Within 24 hours, the assistant DA had identified and located the man who had kidnapped my daughter. The kidnapper was an ex-convict, so the police had kept him on the radar for sometime, and to make a long story short, my daughter was rescued in a midnight raid on his apartment.