Monday, January 11, 2016

Last Night at the Club

Now to most people, when you hear about a nightclub or beach in Miami, you think party or enjoyment. Well, for me, it’s quite the opposite. My body was found at One Ocean Drive, on the grounds of Penrod’s Beach Club, later to become Nikki Beach, near the beach in Miami Beach, Florida.
The night I died, I made a makeshift bed out of folded blankets and watched as all the young adults headed out for the night. With the tropical feel of the club and the great dance music, I remember lying down and watching in awe at how dressed up everyone was. I, myself, however, was found wearing tattered navy blue polyester pants, a large black leather belt, a worn black T-shirt, large gray cotton socks, and old black Reebok tennis shoes. All the other items I owned, a blue duffel bag containing a pillow and jacket, were found with me as well.
The night I passed away might just have been because of my medical issues. Standing at 6'1" and 147 pounds, a large growth just under my right shoulder blade had broken through my thin body and frail skin. You see, unfortunately, I had metastatic cancer. I was only between the ages of 46 and 60, far from my time to leave this earth.
Maybe, when I was younger and healthier, I used to frequent this club or spend endless hours lying by the beach; heck, maybe I was even a surfer waiting to catch the perfect wave. But now all I am waiting for is my name back. Please, even though I may have been homeless and very sick, someone out there might still be looking for me, or at least, understand that I deserve an identity.

If you have any information about this man, please contact

District 11, Medical Examiner’s Office, 
Number One Bob Hope Road, 
Miami, FL 33136-1133, 
Case # 1999-0923

View his profile data here:  Miami Dade Florida John Doe April 1999

Friday, January 1, 2016

Happy Birthday, America!

Happy Birthday, America! Just three days before I was found on July 7, 1997, I must have been celebrating Independence Day by watching the fireworks. You know they are spectacular and my favorite part of July. The sparkling lights lighting up the sky from miles away, and the array of colors are just absolutely mesmerizing. Since I was probably homeless, I could only show my pride by picking one of the two shirts I owned with any patriotic colors: a black T-shirt with a red insignia along with Florida State across it. I was also found in beige Cotler dress pants; a black belt with a rectangular buckle; my other T-shirt, size large, JUN JUL brand; and—don’t embarrass me but—medium Fruit of the Loom briefs with a gray waistband.
The night I was found, I may have not been hanging around with the best crowd. The back of the warehouse on 78 NE Fourth Court was where I might have made my home; more times than not, it was used for drug users to feed their habit. When you live near a place like I did, that kind of life can suck you in in the worst way possible. People may think because I died of a drug overdose that I might not be worth finding or even giving a name. When you’re found in a place like I was with no identity, what do you think people would say about me? A junkie who probably deserved what happened to him? But no one will ever know what the truth is and finding out my real name is the first step in in doing so. Think about it from your perspective, wouldn’t you want to be given the benefit of the doubt?
The only defining characteristics that the authorities provided were that I was a 5'11", 135 lb. African American male between the ages of 30 and 42. I had brown eyes and black hair with a beard and mustache to match. Lying face down in the rear of the warehouse with scars from track marks on my right arm, who knows what else could have happened to me? Please help uncover the truth and discover my name. I would really like to get rid of the label John Doe.

If you have any other information about this case please contact:
Miami-Dade Medical Examiner
Agency Case number 1997-1593

View his profile data here:  Miami Dade Florida John Doe July 1997

Monday, December 21, 2015

Late summer 1979

My name is Tina, and I’m from the state of Ohio. That’s what I told my friends in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. We all hung out at the beach. Can you blame us? It’s Florida and the ocean is beautiful. Summer 1979, I’m in my twenties, I have my entire life ahead of me. Why not spend my time at the beach?

Well, I thought I had my whole life ahead of me. Then I met someone who stole my future, my life. I was killed at the hands of a homicidal maniac. I was strangled and left for dead in a wooded lot in the rural area of Miami-Dade, Florida.

Rumor has it that I might have been known on the beach by the name Sheeba. So, that’s what the local cops reported. Then this other young lady came forward and said that I was a runaway from Ohio. I told her my name was Tina.

AgainI tell you Ohio or Florida, where would you want to spend your twenties, the prime of your life? For me, it was Florida. It doesn’t matter if I ran away from Ohio, or if I made it up. I ended up on the beach in Fort Lauderdale until some ruthless monster took my life.

Sunny beaches and me with my strawberry blonde hair, gray-green eyes, and long legs (5'8"); Who could ask for more? Oh wait, I could. I mean living my twenties on the beach was great, but what was next? I could have had a long, loving life with a husband and children, maybe even a career. I never got that chance. I never got to see what came after my beach days. No, it all ended on September 4, 1979. I was wearing a white T-shirt, floral scarf, and long blue jeans.

So before I came to play on the beaches of Fort Lauderdale, I ran away. Most likely, I ran from the state of Ohio. Someone out there knows who I am. Someone out there must remember me. My friends from high school? Neighbors from the street I grew up on? Churches, social clubs, maybe even local cops from my old hometownsomeone somewhere out there knows who I am. Please call these people and tell them my name. It’s time for me come home.

If you have information about me, please call:

Miami-Dade County Medical Examiner District 11,
Number One Bob Hope Road,
Miami, FL 33136-1133,
(305) 545-2400, (305) 545-2412 Fax
Case #1979-2413, NCIC # U154194129,

View her profile data here: Miami Dade Florida Jane Doe September 1979

Monday, December 14, 2015

Margaret Doe from California

                It was right around the holidays and I was thinking of all the goodies I wanted to make.  I brought out all of my cookbooks and flipped through the worn pages as I tied on my apron to begin the festive baking.  I love how the aroma and the warmth spread throughout my home.  I wondered how many I should make this year.  I wondered if anyone would come visit me.
                I just had to lay down for a moment, but unfortunately, I never woke up.  I had been there quite a while until someone found me, quite a long while indeed.  When they discovered me, I had been dead for about six months to a year.  Maybe no one could make it over for a visit during that time.  Maybe my children were all too busy with their own lives.  Did I even have children?  Maybe my caregiver was tired of taking care of me and didn’t think anyone would notice.  No one did.
                Whoever it was that finally found me lying on the sofa decided it was best to roll me up in a tarp and discard me on the side of the road.  What would make someone do that?  Did they want the money I received every month?  Did they need it that badly?  Was it someone I knew? Was it someone too afraid to call for help?
                My body was discovered in May of 2015 in Corcoran, California, in King's County.  They found my remains at 6th Avenue and Homeland Canal.  I may have been from a surrounding city like Hanford or Selma or Farmersville.  I may have been from somewhere even farther, like Bakersfield or Modesto, and they drove me to a remote town where no one knew me. 
                I was wearing black yoga pants and a light-colored top.  I was Caucasian and stood between 5’0”  and 5’6”.  I had short blonde hair with remnants of gray.  I was 60 to 70 years old.  My bones were frail, but that's just what happens with age.  Is my family looking for me?  Did they do this to me?  Please help me find the answers.  Do you know me?

If you have any information about this person, please contact:

King's County Sheriff's Office
1444 W Lacey Blvd
Hanford, CA  93230

View her profile data here:  Kings California Jane Doe May 2015

Saturday, November 28, 2015

Monday, November 16, 2015

Missing Persons Day Event

By Cherolyn Gordon

October 26th, 2015 ASU College Glendale, AZ

As Rebel and I journeyed towards Arizona my thought was nothing other than this event will help me do my job of fundraising better.  Friday evening as we get settled into our rooms anticipating the morning of the event, which came very early. At this time, I am still in awe and excited about the knowledge I will gain. It took a few minutes, but finally got our table set up with Can You Identify Me banner, flyers, pictures, and information on the organization.

By 10 AM family members of the missing started to walk through the double doors with the hope, I’m sure, of something or someone new might hold the magical element or clue they needed to help find their missing loved one. I just sat quietly listening and watching as people of all walks of life walked by our table gazing at each item displayed. Some stopped to ask questions about the organization and some strolled on by curious as to what other institutes had relating to their situation.

We all go through ups and downs in life, which may or may not be what we want or expect. When this happens we often ask ourselves, “Why Me”.  Why did I have to be the punching bag to life’s worst occurrences? In death, It is depressing when you lose a loved one by illness, accident, or old age, but at least you know the how and why.  

My first experience meeting a father who was still searching for his son missing 14 years. Deep in is heart he probably knows his child is deceased, but in his eyes over the pain and hurt, still a glimmer of hope portrayed. He whispered gently he hasn’t slept in 14 years.  At that moment, it was all I could do to hold back my tears. I for one don’t ever want to feel the pain that I saw in the eyes of families who has a child, cousin, sister, brother, father, or mother missing. It is the not knowing that is detrimental to your being.

If I am only a volunteer for six days, six months, or six years with Can You Identify Me I will always be grateful to this foundation for all that is done to support and assist the families who endure such agony.  

Thank you Rebel, board members, and volunteers for all you do! 

November Coin Roll - Change for Charity