This was my letter to David Karp at the St. Pete Times (813) 226-3352

 

You asked what was still being done to find Don and probably the most notable, I didn’t even mention because I see it every day.  The poster of Don and Nyla (leopard) that we distributed for months following his disappearance was also circulated in Costa Rica and is still in the windows of my car, our house keeper’s car, my daughter’s car and many of our volunteers.  After you left, I looked around the parking lot at all of the signs and couldn’t believe I didn’t think to mention them. 

 

It has been a year ago today that Don’ disappeared without a trace.  Not a single clue has surfaced that can even answer the question “Is he dead or alive?”   I believe if he could be home, he would be here.  Were he homeless or in a facility, we would have found him by now.  He wouldn’t be sitting idly by and letting attorneys eat up everything he worked for, so he can’t be hiding.  I miss him so much.

 

Radar compiled a list of my phone messages and one was from Richard Martin.  Could this be THE Richard?  I was breathless.  All the message said was that he was returning my call.  That could be anybody about any thing.  Was it him?  The message had come almost a week ago and not given to me until today.  Would he think I was rude, or worse yet, fickle?  I couldn’t wait to call him and yet was nearly paralyzed with fear.   I cleared my office, locked the door, took a few deep breaths and dialed.

 

Talking to Richard was like talking to an old friend.  I liked everything about him.  He reminded me of me.  Not only his interests and experiences, but his attitudes and beliefs mirrored my own.  I wanted to meet him because I wanted to talk to him, face to face.  It didn’t matter what he looked like although he assured me that he had his own teeth and hair, as if it mattered.  I didn’t ask him how old he was because I liked him so much that it didn’t matter.  I have never liked being around young men, but even if he had been a young person, I don’t think I would’ve cared.   He could’ve had two heads, but by the time I actually met him, I liked him so much I figured I could get used to it.  He suggested we meet on Thursday, August 20.

 

On Thursday he called and suggested we meet at Dagwood’s but I misunderstood and drove to Dog Water’s.  I went in and waited, but he didn’t show.  Fifteen minutes went by and I had asked every man in the bar if his name was Richard and all of them said they wished it were, or they’d change it if that’s what I wanted.  When the page came through, I couldn’t find a phone.  My cell phone was dead, the one down the block had been ripped out of the wall and I finally asked to borrow the merchant’s phone.   We retraced our steps to see how we could have been mistaken and finally agreed to meet at Skipper’s Smokehouse.  When I drove up I saw a man standing out front, but immediately dismissed this as possibly being Richard, because I was expecting the two headed guy that was going to make this attraction such a challenge for me.   As I walked up I could tell by the way he looked at me that it was him.  This was too good to be true!

 

It was late and we virtually had the place to ourselves.  The more I learned about him, the more I liked him.  Being somewhat compulsive by nature and not too shy, I struggled with the overpowering desire to kiss him on the lips and ask where he had been all my life.  We asked all of the “get to know you questions” and I learned that he is the older of two children.  He described his sister as “beautiful”.  He said his father died too soon at 51 and that his mother was still alive and living in St. Pete.

 

He said that he had been a Councilman for St. Pete for two consecutive terms, but that he was usually the one who was against the politicians and for the people when it came time to vote.  His vote was not for sale to the wining and dining upper crust, which made him pretty unpopular among the political crow