I wrote the following about four years ago. I still shed tears every time I remember Sarah. Her tragically short life and the mystery of her death will remain with me for the rest of my life.
I am an anthropologist and archaeologist. My master’s project used geophysics to try to figure out what was underground without digging. A related use for archeological geophysics is the search for hidden graves. After I gave a talk at Massachusetts OCME, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, about the use of geophysics, my friend (the new forensic anthropologist) called to ask for my help.
Nine year old Sarah Pryor disappeared on October 9, 1985, while walking in her suburban Boston neighborhood. In 1995, a dog-walker found a peculiar-looking bone fragment in the woods. The fragment had lain, like a small bowl, near a path in a secluded section of woods in neighboring town. The man had seen the bone numerous times before he wondered if it might be a part of a person and called the police. The bone was part of a human skull. A search turned up a second fragment near the first piece; the two pieces fit together. The coroner determined that the bits of bone belonged to an adult, but could not identify the person. The bones were relegated to a closet for almost two years.
The newly hired forensic anthropologist at OCME was determined to identify all of the old cases. She examined the skull fragments and knew that they belonged to a child, not an adult. The only missing child from the area was Sarah. New techniques for identification had developed since their discovery; mitochondrial DNA sequencing could determine maternal descent. The bones were sent off for testing along with a sample of Sarah’s mother’s blood. Months later, the results came back. It said, with 99.99% certainty, that the bones were Sarah, the long-missing little girl.
At the time of the initial find, a search had been undertaken by the police. Now that Sarah had been identified, everyone wanted to find the rest of her remains. With more remains, a cause of death might be determined or even some clues as to her disappearance - there wasn’t enough information to know whether or not she had been kidnaped or had died by mishap, although everyone had suspicions. After all, how else had her skull turned up, miles from where she had last been seen alive, broken to pieces?
I met the forensic anthropologist and the officers who had made the initial search. We systematically walked all over the small patch of woods, through which we could hear traffic on all sides. The vehicles were invisible to us despite the autumn-denuded trees. I’ve never lived in either a city or in true suburbs; it was very odd to be surrounded by the sounds of busy civilization while completely hidden from its sight. I had always believed that suburbs consisted of endless subdivisions and row upon row of tract houses. From the thick woods, we might have been in the deepest countryside, except for the sounds of busy suburbia surrounding us.
The dog-walker also met us and showed us the exact spot where he had found the piece of bone, years earlier. He was still very distressed over having seen it repeatedly without recognizing it for what it was. We scuffed through the fallen leaves, looking for a possible grave site. The soils in the woods were very thin; bedrock was very close to the surface in most of these woods. It tore at my heart to know that I couldn’t help; geophysical surveys are pointless when bedrock is so shallow. A grave couldn’t have been deeper than a foot or two and our close inspection of the ground’s surface would discover such a grave. There was none.
A small swamp might possibly have hidden a grave. Geophysics will not work under water. If her body had been secreted in the swamp, we probably would not find any remains, as they could have completely decayed; even bone will dissolve in swamps.
The only satisfaction that we had was the knowledge that Sarah’s mother had been able to have her child declared dead. There was no chance for her to still be alive, somewhere, possibly suffering through years of abuse. The pieces that had been recovered were from areas where the loss of bone was incompatible with life. From the bleaching the sun had done to the exposed bones while they lay on the ground, we could definitively say that the child had been dead for about ten years before the pieces of her were found - she hadn’t been kept alive, perhaps being tortured or abused, for any great length of time. We could only hope that she died quickly. Her mother was able to touch the remains and say good-bye to her child. Local children, many of whom were born long after Sarah disappeared, attended her funeral. Her mom dedicated a new playground in Sarah’s memory. And life goes on in Boston’s suburbs.
If this was CSI, we would have found the grave. They always find the body. Eventually, they always get the bad guy on TV, although sometimes it takes a couple of seasons. We weren’t on TV. We never found the rest of Sarah, discovered who killed her, or even determined the cause of her death. We could say that her skull was fractured around the time of death, which occurred around the time of her disappearance. That’s it. We suspected that a particular child molester, in jail in another state after the kidnap/murder of another child, was responsible. He had been in the area at the time of the Sarah’s disappearance but he never confessed. We couldn’t prove anything.
I’ll always remember Sarah. It’s been over ten years since I took that disturbing walk in the woods, but sometimes, I hug my son, even though he’s sixteen and objects to parental hugs, just because I’m thinking about Sarah. I read that Sarah’s mother wanted everyone to hug their children in Sarah’s memory; I can do that much for her. I wish I had been able find more of Sarah, or to be a part of getting justice for her and for her mother. Real life rarely duplicates fiction.
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