Boy still missing 10 years later: Tristen Myers

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Normal Boy still missing 10 years later: Tristen Myers

Post by lisette on Sun Sep 26, 2010 4:24 pm

A Sampson County boy missing for nearly 10 years was 14 years old Friday, July 16, 2010.

Tristen "Buddy" Myers' birthday renewed pleas to the public for information in solving the cold case. He is believed to have been abducted from his home in Roseboro on Oct. 5, 2000. There have been no clues to where he might be.

Nearly three years after his disappearance, investigators in Chicago found a boy matching Tristen's description, but DNA tests later determined the boy to be someone else.

Months before going missing, Tristen had moved to North Carolina from Louisiana to live with his aunt and uncle. His aunt reported last seeing him playing in front of the TV before she fell asleep. When she awoke, he and his dog were missing. The dog returned five days later.

Source: WRAL
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Forgotten yellow ribbons
The yellow ribbons are long forgotten now.
There might be a thread or two left to remind the world of Tristen Myers,
the little boy we call Buddy, but I didn’t see anything when last I drove
through Roseboro. Perhaps there is a darker streak on a utility pole, or a
thin place on the bark of a tree, where someone tied a yellow ribbon for a
little boy who disappeared. If there was, I didn’t see it.
Buddy was just a little kid who never seemed to get a break; I won’t go into
his life before he went to live with his Great Aunt Donna, but let’s just
say it was unstable at best. His eyes stare out from the missing poster
bearing his name. In the photo, he is patiently waiting awaiting the moment
Dad says it’s time to go fishing.
Buddy disappeared – there is no other word – on Oct. 5, 2000. His great aunt laid down to take a nap, while she thought Buddy, too, was asleep.
Sometime that afternoon the four-year-old left Donna’s house on Microwave Tower Road southwest of Roseboro. He took his two dogs with him. The dogs came home several days later.
Buddy still hasn’t.
Miss Rhonda and I were nearly asleep when my editor called that night. It
was 11 p.m., and he didn’t know who else to send. It was the beginning of
three long days and nights of mosquitoes and woods paths and rumors and
waiting.
I am ashamed to admit I almost forgot Buddy this year; of course, his name
is one of the list of those we remember nightly in our prayers, along with
Alice Donovan, Britannee Drexell, and Michelle Bullard.
Michelle and Alice were found; Britannee’s family is still searching, as are
hundreds, if not thousands of other families.
But the one who started it all, the one who dragged me across the line
between objectivity and emotion, the one who really helped me learn that we in the news business are writing about people, not just things – that one
was Buddy.
I was there throughout the active search for the little boy who loved
horses, NASCAR, and his great-uncle’s eighteen-wheeler. I was there when
the helicopter pilot spotted something in his infrared camera, and a
thousand collective breaths were held until he radioed back that it was the
body of a hunting hound, not a little boy. I was there when the volunteer
count topped 1,000, as people from a dozen and a half states came to North
Carolina to help find a little boy none of them knew. I was there when a
loud, bossy woman came up and introduced herself to the law officers as
being from the CUE Center for Missing Persons.
That lady was Monica Caison; we are still friends, even though I’ve written
hundreds of other stories since that humid October night, and she’s searched for hundreds more lost sons and daughters, mothers and fathers. When I last spoke to Monica, she was searching for the remains of a young woman named Samantha Burns. They are yet another family waits and hopes.
I don’t know if Monica had a spare second to remember Buddy on Oct. 5; were she to take a moment for every lost person on the day they disappeared, she wouldn’t have time to keep hunting for those lost folks.
I can’t imagine Monica’s dreams; I hope that she sleeps well, knowing in
her heart that she isn’t stopping her efforts to remind everyone that every
lost person is someone’s child. She remembers them, even when she can’t take the time to stop and cry.
I will admit, I never met Buddy, but I got to know him much better in the
months and weeks after he disappeared. I can’t believe that he would be
13 now; if his smile stayed the same, he would likely be the target of many
a giggling girl’s affection. Maybe he would have played baseball this
summer, and maybe he would be on a JV football team right now. He was little enough that there’s no doubt in my mind he went to Heaven if he died; that’s what happens to the littlest kids when they go away, of that I am sure.
The Lord comforts children, no matter what they’re going through; we adults just have a bad habit of ignoring His comfort as we grow up.
I write this column every year, in part to remember Buddy, in part for my
friend Monica, but mainly for the folks out there who don’t give up, the
ones who still, after all these years, tack “MISSING” posters on utility
poles and bulletin boards in stores and gas stations. Some of them write
letters to me every once in a while. I treasure those letters, and pray for
their families.
And we still pray every night for their lost loved ones.
The yellow ribbons are forgotten now, frayed and lost to time and rain and
wind and sun. The yellow ribbons may be frayed and forgotten, but they
still bind the people who cry in the night to those they pray to someday see
again.
” By Jefferson Weaver”-
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lisette

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Normal Re: Boy still missing 10 years later: Tristen Myers

Post by lisette on Sun Sep 26, 2010 4:36 pm

Young Boy's Life Takes Many Turns

Buddy Myers's life had taken too many turns for just a four year old boy. He was born to a teenage mother in Metairie, Louisiana, just outside of New Orleans. Buddy's mother, being just a child herself, felt she was ill equipped to care for him so she gave custody to her parents. Her parents happily accepted this responsibility and began trying to create a comfortable home for Buddy. But it wouldn't be long before tragedy would strike this household.

In the summer of 2000 Buddy's grandparents were no longer able to care for him. Buddy's grandmother had been diagnosed with cancer and the burden off the illness had become too much for the elderly couple. Once again Buddy would have to adapt to a new family.

Buddy was sent to live in Roseboro, North Carolina with John Myers, his grandmother's brother and his wife, Donna. It was here where Buddy learned to swim, enjoyed playing with his toys and took a strong liking to the two family dogs, Sasha (a baby Doberman) and Buck (a three-legged mutt). They describe "Buddy" as a curious and friendly little boy who would talk to just about anyone.

Just As Buddy Began To Get Some Stability...He Disappeared

On the afternoon of Thursday, October 5, 2000 as Buddy's aunt Donna laid on the couch, Buddy decided to take the two dogs out for a walk.That afternoon turned out to be the last time anybody saw Buddy. When Donna woke up and discovered Buddy missing along with her two dogs she ran looking for them in the fields, houses and back trails. She could not find Buddy anywhere. The family called police and they conducted a massive search of the surrounding area but found no sign of Buddy or the dogs.

Then, mysteriously on October 10, Buck, the mutt, came home. Sadly, Buddy and Sasha did not. But after Buddy's story aired on AMW on October 14, 2000, Sasha mysteriously came home. Again, Buddy was not with the puppy. Buddy's family grew more worried, but not hopeless.

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