You can call me Natch P, and it’s time to get back to the basics.

Was I rap star? Was I hip music mogul in the making? Could I have been working my way up the shady underbelly of the rap world? Could I have been working the streets pimping my music to anyone who would listen? Could I have been on the brink of discovery? Sure, why not!

Was I college student? Was I studying politics and government? Could I have been running for an office, for school recognition? Could I have been on the debate team? Could I have been President of the United States someday? Sure, why not!

Was I fast on my feet? Was I able to run the field? Could I move and glide with a ball? Did I look good in that uniform? Could I have been on the road to great success working my way to the NFL? Sure, why not!

Was I an average hard-working guy simply trying to get by in life? A guy who wanted to provide for his family? A guy who wanted to have fun after work? A guy who wanted to meet someone nice and fall in love? Sure, why not!

Anything is possible about how my life could have turned out. Unfortunately, it didn’t go quite as planned. It hit a roadblock. Actually, more like a cement block. See on October 16, 2005, my remains were found encased in cement inside of a 50-gallon drum in a shallow creek just off Hwy. 84, Clarence, Natchitoches Parish, Louisiana.

What my future had in store will remain a mystery. Apparently someone out there wanted me gone. It was so serious that they encased me in cement inside of a 50-gallon drum and dropped me in a creek. That was pretty messed up, right there. What’s even more messed up, the authorities don’t know who I am. They can’t figure it out. In order to figure out who I am, they have to get back to the basics.

Here’s some real basic 411: I’m an African-American male, 18 to 30 years old, and I stood somewhere between 5'6" to 5'10". I was wearing some type of green-blue shirt or jacket with a drawstring hood and Hanes boxer shorts.

The real basics here are going to be the science. They take this test that gives them information, that helps them figure out who someone is, it’s called DNA. DNA, the acronym for Deoxyribonucleic Acid, stands for the key foundation on which the structure of life is built. Sounds serious right? What it really means is that it can tell one person from the next. You know the basics! Alright, so they have my DNA on file. Also they were able to find my teeth and dental impressions. It’s like this, that means they have my dental information on file too. It doesn’t get more basic than the stuff you are made of and your teeth! Now they just need something to compare it to.

You know when I was found. You know where I was found. You know how I was found. Now what? Back to the basics, dawg! Find my family and let’s get some comparisons made to find out who I am. Let’s get those DNA science guys working on matching me to me. Feel me?

If you have information that will lead to the identity of this man, please call:

Natchitoches Parish Coroners Ofc.

318-357-2260

SEE HIS PROFILE DATA HERE:  Natchitoches Louisiana John Doe October 2005

J.D.--It’s my time to get identified.

It’s like a flash of light. It happens so fast. One minute you are alive, and the next you are gone.

February 1996, I ran into the street, right in front of an ambulance that was in route, traveling at a high rate of speed. I guess you can figure out what happened. Sure some will speculate I did it intentionally, but the circumstances are truly unknown. I think everyone is better off not speculating. Instead, focus on a much greater need, my name.

My name is not known. I’m what you call a John Doe. Doe is what the authorities call a person when they don’t know the person’s name. So it’s official, I’m a Doe. Instead of John Doe, why don’t we spice it up a bit and just call me J.D. It’s a little better than John Doe, right?

I’m here before you today because “they,” the powers that be, are working hard at trying to figure out who I am. Here’s what they know:

Hispanic Male

25 to 35 years old

5'2" and 130 lbs.

Brown Eyes

Wavy Shoulder-Length Black Hair

Moustache & Soul Patch

Remember earlier I mentioned I ran into the street? That was at the corner of SE Grand and SE Belmont in Portland, Oregon. The date was February 19, 1996. I didn’t have anything useful on me for identification just a black Timex wristwatch--no identification that would lead them to my identity or my family.

They did note down all the clothes I was wearing, if that helps you any. I was wearing a tan thermal-lined jacket from J.C. Penney’s, a long-sleeved brown shirt, gray Bugle Boy trousers, size 28, with a brown belt and blue swimming trunks. I also wore gray and black socks with black shoes, size 8 ½. Not sure that helped, but maybe I was visiting someone who will remember what I looked like and what I was wearing the last day that individual ever saw me. 

Here’s the thing, 1996 was a long time ago. It’s time for me to finally find my final resting place, where they can put a tombstone that reads the name I was given at birth. Also, I think my family deserves to know what happened to me. They must be going crazy not knowing. It’s definitely my time. My time to get identified!

Call this woman if you know me: 

Oregon State Medical Examiner’s Office

Dr. Nici Vance

971-673-8300

Case #96-557

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA HERE:  Multnomah Oregon John Doe February 1996

Sandy River Doe

When someone dies, lots of people go to work. I know because I died. Lots of people went to work for me and are still working to help me.

You wanna know a secret? It’s nothing like you see on TV. Okay, well it’s a little bit like what you see on TV, but I promise you, it doesn’t all get wrapped up in one or two hours.

In my case the first thing that happened was that I was found in a park. Those who found me called the police. Immediately people started working from police dispatch, to the local responding patrol car, to the crime scene investigators, and then to the medical examiner’s office.

The park was busy that day. Lots of people went right to work, rushing around, taking samples, pictures, notes, and talking to people in the area. They were all there for me. They were looking at me. They were helping me move to a more a comfortable state of being. They were talking about me. Boy, were they talking about me. Don’t you wish you could have been a fly in that park? 

Once the fun at the park was over, they moved the investigation back to headquarters. This is where they started looking at all their notes and evidence, and this is where they started taking a closer look at me. Let’s see, they drew my blood; they took my fingerprints; and they examined me. It was very important for them to note all this information about me. Well, that’s the kind of stuff the medical examiner’s office was doing. Then there were the investigators, they started looking at what information they had about me. One piece of really important information was missing. They didn’t know my name. I don’t think they worried about that right off, because that’s what they do, investigate. They would go about their usual routine to figure out who I was.

The reports were flowing, the calls were being made, the information and data were being compiled, people were in action; but in the end, they still couldn’t figure out who I was.

Well, all of this happened in 1995. Yep, they found me deceased on September 4, 1995, out at Depot Park, near Sandy River, Troutdale, Oregon. They have reason to believe I died on September 3, 1995. My cause of death was asphyxiation; that’s a fancy word for what happens when your body has a severe deficiency in oxygen. Anyway, that’s when and where they found me and when they started doing all that work for me. 

They could tell the basics about me that I was a Caucasian male, 40 to 60 years old, who stood about 6'3" and weighed 225 pounds. I had gray eyes and reddish-brown hair that was graying slightly at the temples. Remember, when the medical examiner’s office did their examination on me, they discovered that I had a poorly healed surgical scar extending from xiphoid process to the umbilicus and a short, 1-inch long well-healed scar in the webbing between my right index finger and thumb. Maybe the most distinctive feature they found on me was, and I quote, my “well groomed moustache.” Even though they could tell all the basics about me, they still couldn’t tell you who I was.

All those hard-working people hit a roadblock back in the ’90s. Today, another group of hard-working people at the State Medical Examiner’s office is trying once again to find out who I am. They are making sure to take advantage of all the latest technologies available to them today. My information has been entered into a National Unidentified Persons Database (NamUs), and my likeness has been reconstructed by Can You Identify Me so all of you can see what I might have looked like. Once again lots of people are hard at work because one person died. I’m blessed to be in a place where people care about me. 

It’s your turn now. They need your help making sure the right person sees me and can step forward and identify me. Please make sure to share my information and likeness with as many people as possible. You never know who just might know me.

If you know this man, please call:

Oregon State Medical Examiner’s Office

Dr. Nici Vance

971-673-8300

Case #95-2405

VIEW THIS MANS PROFILE DATA HERE:  Multnomah Oregon John Doe September 1995

John, Johnny, Robert or Ronald--you might as well call me JR

In April 1980, my friend Jack Roy Davis and I were staying in the Siesta Motel on 34^th St. North in St. Petersburg, Florida. It was called the Siesta Motel and I guess that’s fitting since Jack and I took a permanent siesta on April 26, 1980, right there in that motel room.

I’ll be straightforward with you. We were killed. The police had a suspect, but he was gunned down by his girlfriend just four months after we were killed. I guess you can call that Karma.

My friend was identified as Jack Roy Davis of Knoxsville, Tennessee. The person suspected of killing us was also from Tennessee. Unfortunately, they couldn’t figure out who I was. The authorities came close. After investigating, they have reason to believe my name was John, Johnny, Robert, or Ronald and that I could have also been from Tennessee.

However, I also could have been from California or Missouri. I guess Tennessee is where most people probably assume I’m from since both Jack and the killer were from Tennessee. It makes you wonder did all three of us travel down to Florida together. Maybe that girlfriend was part of our posse. Maybe she knew something about who we were and why we were killed. Maybe that’s how they figured out my name was John, Johnny, Robert, or Ronald. You can throw around conjecture all day. Bottom line, that’s all they know, four possible first names, three possible states of origin.

Well, that’s not exactly all they know. They know some details about my physical description, clothing, and jewelry too.

I was a white male, 20 to 45 years old, leaning more toward 35 to 45. I stood 5'8", weighed 155 lbs., and had hazel eyes. I had what they are calling moderate length light reddish-brown hair. I also had a beard and mustache of the same color. My nose and forehead had freckles.

I didn’t have any tattoos, but I had some scars. There was one scar that was 16 inches long from the right side of my chest to the left with suture marks. Both my nipples had scars under them. I also had one scar on my left arm with suture marks. There were also two wire sutures in my sternum from prior heart surgery.

Nothing really interesting to call your attention to about my clothing, I was just wearing your typical blue jeans. However, I had two interesting necklaces. One was white metal with a white star, and the other was gold metal with a horn shaped medallion.

What was I doing in a motel room in Florida with two men from Tennessee? You may never know the answer to that question. What is my name? I hope that one day soon this you will know the answer to that question.

If you know me or think you know me, please call:

District 6
Medical Examiners Office

727-582-6800
District 20
239-434-5020

Case#1980-00917

HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Pinellas Florida John Doe April 1980

Stan Doe--Found in the Atlantic Ocean

It’s been too long and I’m too old to tell you any stories, so we’re just jumping right in. No pun intended. On July 24, 2000, my body was found just miles off Jonesport, Maine, in the Atlantic Ocean.

No sugar coating here. The authorities estimate that I died just weeks earlier, in June 2000. They believe I was in my sixties and had gray hair. I was wearing a long sleeved blue knit pullover shirt with a collar as well as a white V-neck T-shirt, two pairs of tube socks, and a gray metal Casio watch. My dental work was distinctive in that I had a Nesbit partial denture span three teeth with one missing. The following were also noted as medical conditions Cardiac Hypertrophy, Coronary Atherosclerosis, Emphysema, and Nephrosclerosis. So I had some heart, lungs, and kidney issues; however, the cause of death was listed as undetermined because of the state of my remains.

So what happened to me? I guess it’s possible I had a heart attack and simply fell overboard in to the ocean. Yet, it seems odd no one noticed I was missing or saw me fall. Same thing for if I wanted to kill myself, you would think someone would notice me taking a nosedive off some ferry into the water. I guess its possible I rented a small fishing boat and jumped; heck, I might have even owned a small boat that would explain why no one saw me jump or fall into the water. Then there is always the cynical approach: someone else killed me and fed me to the fishes. Whatever the reason, death by accident, suicide, or murder, I’m still dead. The problem, at this point, is not how I died, but who the heck I am.

See the above gave you some facts, but with one large important piece of information missing--My Name! Who am I? They don’t know and they need your help to figure it out. So if my forensic reconstruction (image) looks familiar to you, give them a call. If you know someone who went fishing in the summer of 2000 off the port of Maine, or anywhere on the upper Eastern Coast, and never came home, call them. If you think any of this sounds like someone you know, call them. They need your help to figure out who I am.

CALL:

The Chief Medical Examiner’s Office
State of Maine
207-624-7180

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE HERE:  Washington Maine John Doe July 200

Here one day, gone the next.

The caption pretty much says it all. One day life was good. I was surrounded by family, maybe even co-workers, enjoying a normal day. Then one day - just like that - I was gone.

Today, I remain unknown to the state of Texas. See, one day they found my remains. Remains: that’s what they call it when they find you deceased. They find your remains. Remains are what is left of you after your human life form dies and your soul, spirit or inner being moves on to another plane. At least that’s what people want to believe. They want to believe you move on after you die. Well, I’m not here to answer that one way or another. Actually, we got a bit sidetracked. See, we’re talking about how they found my remains.

Somewhere in the county of Montague, Texas, someone stumbled across my body. See, little information was given on exactly how that transpired. Slightly odd, if you ask me! But nonetheless it’s a fact. So, on August 10, 1981, my lifeless remains were found. Here’s the kicker: they couldn’t identify me. Sure, they ran all the normal processes for 1981 to try and figure out who I was. Yet, it was to no avail. They simply couldn’t figure out who I was. So here I am 30 years later, still without identity. I’m one of those unidentified folks you’re starting to hear more about. It would be nice, though, if someone could identify me.

Here’s what I can tell you. I can tell you that I was a male who was about 30 to 40 years old. I might have been Native American or just a good old white boy. I stood about 5’10” but my weight is not known. My hair was brown, yet the color of my eyes are unknown. Sort of makes you wonder what the heck happened to me, doesn’t it? But, I digress. I may have worn upper dentures. And I was found wearing brown polyester flared-leg pants with blue stripes.

There is one more fact that is on the record. They believe I died about two months before I was found on August 10, 1981.

What happened to me? How did I get where I was found? Those facts remain unclear. At this point, they’re as unclear as who I am. But know this: I am somebody. I was somebody. It’s time somebody figures out who exactly I am.

Everyone has family. Isn’t mine entitled to know what happened to me?

Monty Doe

------------------------------------------

If you know this person, please call:

Montague County Sheriff's Office
940-894-2871

Case Number: C8118
NCIC Number: U-160374828

HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE:  Montague Texas John Doe August 1981

Noble & Ready

The name Alfonso means noble and ready. It might not be my given name, but it’s a good description of me. Noble means having or showing fine personal qualities: I’m betting waiting patiently for a prolonged period of time qualifies as noble. And I’m sure you can guess I’m definitely ready. I’m ready for you to figure out who I am.

Where it all started: for you, it all started on February 1, 1970, in Saugerties, Ulster County, New York, right off a public highway, not far from the NYS Thruway. That is where they found me and where the story begins for you.

Two children sledding near Plate Cove Road found a frozen body lying in the snow. That frozen body was me. I had been shot four times in the back of my head. The cops declared my death a “gang-land style slaying.” The story of my murder made the local newspapers throughout the 1970s. See, I didn’t have any identification with me and they were unable to identify me. Even today, people around the country are puzzled by what happened that day and who I am.

The investigation into my death and who I am took the cops around the world. They had reason to believe I might have been “foreign born.” They came up with this because of my ethnicity/looks, my possessions, the way I was murdered, and probably other reasons they never, even till this day, have disclosed. Regardless of how many countries they searched, and which databases the FBI or Interpol used, they were not able to come up with any information on me. They even questioned numerous members of organized crime, hoping the mobsters would identify me in exchange for helping them, to no avail.

How can you help? Well, if you know of any missing 35 to 45 year old, white European men from that time period, who had dark brown wavy hair with a bald spot, who stood about 5'3" and weighed about 155 pounds, you might know me. That would be how you could help. A little more information that might help you to help me: I was wearing a grey European style suit over pajamas. I had a gold Omega watch made by a company in Portugal. I was also wearing a gold ring with a red stone also made in Portugal. Now you know what I look like and what possessions I had with me that fateful night in February 1970.

The funny thing about this story, the one that’s about to end for you, is the cops thought for certain someone eventually would talk. They believed that one day the Mafia would finally give up my identity. Yeah, that’s a real kicker, seeing as how it’s been forty-one years and so far not one of those wiseguys has cracked. Maybe a deathbed confession some point over the next twenty years might still be possible: but is it realistic?

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

New York State Police Troop F
SP Kingston

1791 Route 209
Kingston, NY 12401

(845) 338-1702

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE:   Ulster New York John Doe February 1970

Reference: The Sunday Freeman, Sunday Morning, February 1, 1976
“SIX YEARS HAVE PASSED, YET NO VICTIM'S NAME”

Reposted compliments of Cold Case Investigations on March 2011

FLYER: Florida John Doe October 2010

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Hillsborough Florida John Doe October 2010

My name is John Dradel.

My name is John Dradel and this is the story of my final hours. Before we jump in perhaps you’d like to know a little something about me:

I was a respectable gentlemen in the prime of my life. You know, the best years of your life: those between your fifties and seventies. I stood 5'7" and weighed 120 lbs. My hair was balding and gray. I sported a beard and moustache as well. I had blue eyes. My medical state was less than desirable; at some point in my life I suffered a stroke, I had no teeth, and I smoked. I was a fan of brown. I wore brown shoes, jeans, belt and jacket.

And here is the story of my final moments: On May 24, 2006, in Phoenix, Maricopa County, Arizona on Dunlap near the I-17 frontage road, I was struck by a vehicle. Upon arriving at the hospital and receiving treatment I told the staff my name was John Dradel; shortly thereafter, I passed away as a result of my injuries.

The hospital was unable to confirm the spelling of my name.

My final story is sketchy at best. Unfortunately, this is all the information available to help you figure out who I am.



If you know this man, John Dradel, please call:

Maricopa County Medical Examiner
602-506-3322

Ref: Case #06-2075

NOTE: Other spellings of Dradel: Dradle, Dreidel, Drydale, Dyrdal, Drattler, Drehel

HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE HERE: Maricopa Arizona John Doe May 2006

FLYER: Florida John Doe March 2008

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE:  Miami Dade Florida John Doe March 2008

FLYER Arizona John Doe February 2008

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Maricopa Arizona John Doe February 2008

FLYER Georgia John Doe April 2008

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Jackson Georgia John Doe April 2008 

FLYER Pennsylvania John Doe April 2008

VIEW HIS PROFILE AT A GLANCE: Philadelphia Pennsylvania John Doe April 2008 

You don’t know Jack!!! Jack Doe

You don’t know my name. You don’t know who my family is. You don’t know where I’m from. You don’t know exactly when I arrived here. You don’t know how I got here. You don’t know what happened to me. You don’t really know anything at all. Or do you?

You know I’m dead. You know that I was found on April 22, 1998. You know that I might have been dead for up to five years before you found me. You know that I was found in a field behind a truck stop near I-55 and Rt. 53 between the towns of Bolingbrook and Romeoville, Illinois. You know that I was a white male, twenty to thirty years old, with brown hair, who stood 5’11 and weighed 160 pounds. You know that I have distinctive overbite. You know that I was wearing an extra large blue nylon Starter jacket, blue jeans and size 9-91/2 Nike shoes when I was found. You know that I was shot. You know that I have identifiable dentals and DNA on record for comparison. You know that I’m an unidentified John Doe. And you know that I’m just one more unexplained and unsolved statistic on the books.

Like I said you don’t really know anything at all.



UPDATED 2014: Gene Sullivan of the Cold Case Unit in the Coroner’s office asked the University of Indianapolis Forensic Anthropology to update all of their cases. In doing so it was determined that this John Doe is not Caucasian, but instead is African American.

If you know something, call:

Will County Coroner Office
Cold Case Unit
815 727 8455

Case #160-98

HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Will Illinois John Doe April 1998

FLYER Arizona John Doe June 2010

VIEW HIS PROFILE AT A GLANCE: Maricopa Arizona John Doe June 2010

Smithfield, good a name as any!

So here I am, Smithfield Doe. Why Smithfield? Well you see it all started back in June 1987.

I’m a dashing Latino man, about in my late twenties (sssshh maybe early 30’s). I’m average height 5’5 (hey this is my story) and I only weigh about 122. I’m growing my beard so it might appear scruffy to some. I have me a mustache too! Like I said, I’m a dashing Latino. You know it.

So it’s mid 1987 sorry the exact date is a blur. I’m having a casual day, but I still look good. I’m wearing gray sweatpants with my San Juan muscle shirt. Of course, I’m wearing my McGregor Tristar sneakers, no socks though. It’s the look. What can I say, it’s the 80’s.

Here’s where things get fuzzy. Someone sort of turned out the lights. Well, permanently, I guess you could say. It wasn’t done nicely or without malice. It was clearly with rage. I was killed possibly by an ice pick. Sounds like a silly weapon but that weapon was used twenty two times on me. Like I said it was clearly done with rage. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough for the perpetrator. After killing me, I was wrapped with chicken wire and with the use of coaxial cable ninety pounds of rocks and bar bells were attached to weigh me down. Weigh me down so that I can be dumped in a body of water.

On June 18, 1987, my body floated up in Stump Pond. Here’s where it gets interesting. Stump Pond is on the property of the Smithfield Police Department. You might think it’s odd that a crime happened so close to the cops, but it’s not. That sort of thing happens right under the cops watch all the time. Not to say, that they aren’t watching. They are, it’s just like insult to injury. Almost like a message is being sent and I was the messenger.

So June 1987, I was found dead on the property of the Smithfield Police Department. Therefore, only fitting to call me Smithfield Doe. And that’s the only story I have to share with you.

Oh wait, that’s not enough? You want more? So do I. The problem is I’m called “Doe” because they can’t figure out who I am. No records could be found that could identify me. They looked. They think I might have been from Mexico. Look my story for these purposes started and ended in June 1987. The rest of story, well that’s something we all want to know. Maybe you can help us find it out.


If you have any information about this man, please call

Smithfield, Rhode Island
Smithfield Police Department
401-231-2500

HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Providence Rhode Island John Doe June 1987

Who is Helen Ayala?

My right pocket liner was inscribed Ayala, Helen. Who was that? Did I know her? Did she know me? Or is it just some coincidence that my right pocket liner contains the name Helen Ayala?

This is probably a good time to introduce myself. Wait, that’s the problem. The reason I’m here on this site is because I can’t introduce myself. Two reasons I’m here actually. One is I’m deceased and the other is you don’t know my name. It’s hard to tell a story with an introduction when the deceased individual has no name. To wit, I’m unidentified and only known as case number CC-010-95.

What can you call me? My belt buckle was inscribed with the letter S. They think I’m a Hispanic male in my twenties. Assuming I died around the time they found me on March 14, 1986, I was probably born sometime around 1966. What were popular male names in the Hispanic community in the mid sixties? Let’s see, could it have been Salvador or Sergio? Maybe the S stood for the first initial of my last name? Maybe it could be Suarez, Sanchez, Salas, Sandoval, or Santana? There are many first and last names that start with S. The sad part is that my belt buckle may not have anything to do with my name. Alas, until you know otherwise you can call me S Doe.

When I was found near State Hwy 121 and Rowland Creek in Collin County Texas I was wearing a J Riggens brand baseball type jacket. In Dallas County there was a J Riggens Men’s Clothing Wear. Maybe I worked for them? Maybe I frequented one of their stores and purchased a lot of their clothes? Turns out Collins County where I was found deceased is part of the Dallas Fort Worth Metroplex. There is a connection from Dallas County men’s clothing store and the jacket I was wearing, right? Here’s another mystery for someone to figure out.

I’ve told you about the name in my pocket liner. I’ve told you about my belt buckle. I’ve told you about my jacket. I’ve told you about when I was found, where I was found and about how old I was when I died. What don’t you know? I had brown eyes, black hair, weighed about 152 pounds and stood about five feet eight inches tall. Also I had two brown knit gloves and a brown string necklace with a cross on it.

Turns out that in March of 1986 I was shot several times. Those gun shots were end of my life. Yet, I’m determined to help you find out about the rest of my life. There has to be a way for you to find out more about me. Maybe Helen is a clue? Maybe the letter S is a clue? Maybe J Riggens clothing store in Dallas County is a clue? You have a lot of information that might help lead me to my family. I just need the right one of you out there to put all this information together and find my family, my identity. I know that someone out there can make this happen. I’m determined. You be determined too.


If you have any information about this man, please contact:
Collin County Medical Examiners office
972-548-3775

HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Collin Texas John Doe March 1986

Texas Department of Public Safety FLYER:
http://www.txdps.state.tx.us/mpch/UnidentifieddetailsPrint.asp?id=U9501002&Person=Unidentified%20Person

FLYER Florida John Doe aka Preacher Man November 2010

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Hillsborough Florida John Doe November 2010

FLYER Arizona John Doe January 2010

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Maricopa Arizona John Doe January 2010

FLYER Pennsylvania John Doe March 2009

VIEW HIS PROFILE DATA AT A GLANCE: Montgomery Pennsylvania John Doe March 2009