Kate Smith

It was a sunny afternoon that I remember well. My family had returned home after an outing with my father, mother and grandmother back in the 2010s. When we returned home, there was a voicemail on the answering machine: “This is the Sudbury police. This is regarding your daughter’s case. Can you please give us a call back?”

My grandmother’s face is one that I will remember forever. I have never seen a look so hauntingly and devastatingly sad, with a mix of what one would describe as bittersweet hope.

To understand that look on my grandmother’s face, you must understand the context of the phone call. My father’s sister, and my grandmother’s beloved daughter, Jane, had gone missing on Aug. 9, 1975, almost exactly 50 years prior to when I find myself writing this account. This w

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