I read an article that suggested the arrest in the Claudia Lawrence case this week in the UK, proves the McCann case should not be scaled back.

It is understandable and many feel calling off the search for a missing person is inhuman.  But that is the reality of the majority of missing kids cases.  Very few cases have the luxury of prolonged international attention.  Major celebrities, including the Prime Minister and the Pope,  have supported some families of the missing.   It needs to be said that over 200,000 people go missing every year in the UK alone.  They go missing on home soil, but their cases are never heard about outside of the locality where they went missing.  They have family too, in need of help and support.

Every time a case is solved or missing people are found/recovered, it gives ALL families left behind a little hope that one day they will have answers.  Not just one or two familes but thousands who are suffering but not heard about,

I think about my 18 year search for my son.  I see the fantastical amounts of money and expert top notch manpower focused on a handful of cases.  It is painful to be left without any resources at all in terms of a professional search team.  We are lucky to have a team of public volunteers trying to excavate a site for my sons body, in England, on home soil.  But police wont help with it and show little concern or interest.  They are quite happy for the public to get on with it.  No funds apparently.

Every missing person case deserves to be solved.  We simply want the same opportunity for recovery.   

For the past couple of days I felt a sense Damien.  Its a gut feeling I get about my kids.  I felt it this week a couple of times and it was a sense of Damien.  Don’t know how else to describe this thing I feel for my children.  But out of the blue, I felt him close.  Could see him clearly and felt his closeness, like he was thinking of me too.  I felt his presence and I felt like I had taken  a breath at last.  

I  lost the feeling of connection to Damien in that intrinsic sense.  I always ‘felt’ my kids, even if they were not right with me.  I have a ‘sense’ of them.  It is not a tangible thing, its impossible to explain, but it is something a parent has.  It’s a sense of your children.

When Damien went missing, I felt panic, fear, but beyond that, I felt a sense of him that I could reach out to.  I felt his existence.  But soon this feeling left me.  I couldn’t connect to that feeling and I struggled with the loss of it.  The fear of what that means.  I lost my focus of Damien.  As the years passed, it has, on occasion seemed difficult to find a emotional connection.  Its too painful perhaps.  Its numb where there was pure joy in the life I brought into this world, watched grow into a funny talented human being and got to know and love.

So for a fleeting couple of moments, he came back into my senses and I felt warmth, happiness and all I could do was to smile and remember his beautiful soul.

I feel we are getting close to the truth and an answer.

ACCEPTABLE BRITISH POLICING STANDARDS???

When did it ever become acceptable to wait six weeks for police to follow up on new information?  When did take three months to test soil samples?
When did it become acceptable to ignore a missing person case?

I think this supports my past claims that they are just not interested in moving this case forward.  It is like pulling teeth to get any response from them, any of them.  This type of poor policing adds to the utter contempt and frustration I have developed over the years I have dealt with police.

Total disappointment all along the way.  It never improves.

Cover up?  Who do you trust?

My personal thoughts are as follows.  They are my thoughts which span 18 years of questioning how my 16 year old son could vanish off the face of the earth.

When Damien went missing we reported his disappearance to the police, because that’s what you do, right?  We felt very hopeful that we would get support and a result once they were on the job.  But it does not work like that.

First, we as a family were scrutinized, but we didn’t realize at the time.  We did wonder why they were spending a lot of time interviewing us and our kids and why they were not out searching.  But, being ignorant of any police procedure we thought this was leading somewhere and that surely, while we were being scrutinized, surely they were also out searching?  Erm, no!  So we lost valuable time.  It was at the suggestion of a dear friend that we should forget the bastards (her words) and get out and look ourselves.

That was the best advice I got and I am glad I followed it because, if I hadn’t, we would never have uncovered Damien’s movements that night.  Nothing would have been done by the police.  We knocked on doors and we found people who remembered seeing him and we discovered the video in a chip shop showing him talking to a group of army guys who were visiting the Island.  We made a fuss, asked questions and we were treated like a nuisance by police who obviously did not like the questions we asked.  They did not want to look for him and said he had gone off.  One even told me he was old enough to do what he wanted.  Damien was 16.  The police said they thought he was 19.  Big mistake on their part.

Mistakes just kept coming like the loss of evidence.  The CCTV of the High Street showing Damien walking along mysteriously disappeared.  They blew that off like it did not matter at all.  Justified it by saying there was nothing of importance on that CCTV.  Liars.

I think there was something that would have implicated either the police themselves or someone closely related to the police.  As anyone on the Isle of Wight knows, everyone is connected.  So what was there to hide.  The more I find out about connections between parties of interest, the more I am suspicious that there has been a big cover up.

The army men on the chip shop video were not identified for 14 years, despite promises that they would be looked for, nothing was done for 14 years.

No search was done of any scale until 14 years later.

No arrests were made until 14 years later.

All too late!
We have been given a location where Damien may be buried, but the police refuse to look – why?
 I believe that when Damien is found his remains will tell all and that day is coming.

The Night I last saw you
You were in good spirits.  I didn’t make a fuss when you walked out to go to your pals house.  It was like any other time you were going to go and hang out with them.  You were eager to go and see your friends who you had not seen for the past week.  You had been away over half term, up to Suffolk, to see a young girl you had met in the summer and who you were very keen on.  So you had arranged to meet and see your friends and catch up before school began again on Monday.  So we spent the day doing family shopping.  You bought guitar stings and a guitar book.  You had a gift certificate from school for doing well on your exams and you bought a book.  You loved your guitars.  They sit in my room now and I look at them and remember your passion for your music.  That afternoon, when you had bought your book, I had for once decided that I would leave you and Dad and your brother James to finish shopping and I would treat myself, so I went to the hairdresser and spent some time and money on me for once.  It was a little luxury.  I didn’t know that while I was spending time at the hairdresser that I missed spending time with you.  I didn’t know.  When I got home it was gone 5pm and I had taken the bus home and walked a fair way to get home.  I was tired.  I didn’t spend much time with you that evening.  I didn’t know you would vanish.  You ate your dinner.  Fish and chips and you asked Daddy to drive you to Chris house.  So off you went with Dad and you stood at the living room door, filling the space with your height, and with your lovely sweet face you smiled and said you were going out.  I asked you to be home at 10.30 pm., which seemed reasonable, but you pleaded to stay out a bit later and I said okay, no later than midnight.  I wasn’t worried or concerned really, you were just going into Cowes like any other night out.  You were very tall, about 6’ 4”.   What was there to worry about.  Obviously I was always aware of the dangers but couldn’t wrap you in cotton wool all your life and had to let you go and trust you.  So off you went smiling and with that lope of yours on your long legs, off you went through the door saying ‘bye Mum, see you later’ and as usual I always said be careful.  I never saw you again Damien.

I regret that evening every day of my life.  I wish I had spent more time with you.  Hugged you and touched your cheek.  Wish I had listened more to stuff you chatted on about.  Wish that I could have been a better parent and been more there for you.  I wish I hadn’t just let you stride out of my life waving innocently  at me with those beautiful eyes twinkling with mischief.  I wish I could have just stopped and listened to that inner voice when I relented and agreed you could come home late.  I wish that I had stuck to my guns and the 10.30 pm curfew.  But I wasn’t paying enough attention you see.  I had wanted to spend a little time just on me doing what I wanted to do.  I failed you because if I had not wanted to relax and have a little me time I might have listened to my inner voice.  I regret that I did not be the parent I should have been and put your safety first by ensuring you were safe.  Dad said he told you when he dropped you off that you should call if you needed a lift home and he would come and get you.  I thought you were okay, safe.  That you would work out if you were staying the night as you often did at your pals house.  I knew you would let me know as you normally would.  I didn’t know you were being murdered while I slept.  Did you cry for me? Did you call for Daddy?  Were you alone and frightened and hurt?  You must have been petrified and alarmed that this was happening to you.  I wish I could have stopped it all happening by being a better mother and making sure you were home in time.  I am so so sorry Damien, my light and my heart.

I wish I had more time with you Damien.  I wish that I had taken more photo's.  My heart is very sad that your no longer here.  We all miss you terribly.  No matter how many years keep rolling by,  we love and miss you as much today as we ever did, if not more.  My heart cries for you every day.  I wish we had more time with youxx 

It's one of those nights

It’s one of those nights…can’t sleep as my mind is turning over the day’s events and wandering back into the past and all things Damien. 

There is a group of volunteers who are digging an area of interest in the hope of finding my son’s remains. 

As I have said in other blogs, the police refuse to look at this area so we are unable to get any help.

Recently a white waxy substance has been found 6’ underground.  When tested in water the substance does not dissolve.  Our concern is that this could be ‘death wax’ or Adipocere, which is commonly found in a site where a body has been for a while.  It is gruesome to think about, but the best hope I have these days is to find what is left of my son.

This find was reported to police, a few weeks ago, but no one has shown up to take a look.  I spoke today to my SIO who informed me that she is trying to “get permission” to be able to test selected items from the dig site as and when we find them.  But they won’t help with the digging.  I was told that if it was Adipocere there would be bones in the vicinity.  My understanding is that there is a large amount of concrete in the vicinity, so how can they remove that without equipment more manpower to know whether there are bones there or not?   With limited or no resources available, we have little chance of getting very far with this endeavor. 

We need this waxy substance evaluated.  It may be nothing but we won’t know unless forensic tests are carried out so unless the police “get permission” we won’t get this accomplished.  I should have asked who must give the police permission to test a waxy Adipocere like substance found in an area where it is rumored that my son was buried.