The Lost & Missing

THE LOST & MISSING

STACEY

Missing Since: June 17, 1995 from Seattle, Washington
Classification: Endangered Missing

Date Of Birth: April 09, 1974
Age: 21 years old
Height and Weight: 5'5, 140 pounds

Distinguishing Characteristics: Light brown hair, green eyes.

Stacey's hair was highlighted blonde at the time of her 1995 disappearance.
She has a small Native tribal tattoo with her first name, Stacey, imprinted across the image of an Eagle feather upon her low back.

Stacey has a tattoo of an blue orchid on one leg above one of her ankles.

Clothing Description: A light-colored/sky blue sweatshirt, blue jeans and white sneakers/ skechers shoes.
Stacey always wears two ear rings and often wears a gold necklace.

Details of Disappearance
Stacey was last seen at approximately 1:45 a.m. on June 17, 1995 in Shoreline, Washington. She was departing from the Hadaway Lounge at State Route 99 South at the time of her disappearance.

Stacey's black Ford Mustang was discovered later in the day near her residence in North Seattle, Washington. Authorities located evidence that suggested Stacey returned to her apartment and changed clothes after returning from the bar. She has never been seen again.

Stacey was employed as a Hairstylist & Esthetician at Sutters Creek Salon in Bellevue, Washington since Jan 1993. She quit her job on June 15th, two days prior to her disappearance.

She called the Sutters Creek Salon to confirm issuance of but never picked up her last paycheck. Her mother stated that she and Stacey had a close relationship and that Stacey often visited or called her daily.

Stacey's Grandmother-Ellen also had this to say; "We were going to attend an upcoming Beauty Industry trade show together and she had signed up as a Stylist Contestant with her younger sister Gwen as hair model."

Stacey's loved ones told authorities that it is uncharacteristic of her to leave without warning. Stacey's parents are divorced, her mother resided in Olympia Wa and her father resided in Georgia at the time of her disappearance.

Several unconfirmed sightings of Stacey were reported in 1997 and 1999 after her father appeared as a guest on the Most Wanted in America and the Dave Setterman show. Authorities believe that Stacey disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Foul play is suspected in her case, which remains unsolved.


BLUE NOTEBOOK
To Whom It May Concern; investigators, parents, friends.

I moved here to Alaska in Nov 1999 from Seattle WA to begin a new chapter in my life. I share a few pages of that record with you.

In Feb 2001 I had been accepted into employment for a Native non profit company in Fairbanks, AK. I was to be sent out to a rural Native Alaskan village and be the VPSO-village public safety officer.

VPSO's are EMT, Fire, Police, SAR, Probations & Parole in their respective villages.
We do the misdemeanor work (and often felony) while the AST-alaska state troopers do the bigger cases.

As part of my OJT-on the job training I was assigned a 2 week Ride-Along shift program with the Fairbanks AST Post.

An AST shift supervisor assigned me a different Trooper to ride along with on an 8hr shift so I could see how AST interacts with various Offenders in Fairbanks.

I was a little older than most VPSO applicants and (the then) currently serving VPSO's so my life history and prior military experience and overall Maturity was taken into account in being accepted for the VPSO job.

It was a great 2 weeks OJT.
That's when I "met" her.
Stacey.

Only thing is I had met her before in Seattle, WA and then-like now
I only met her on paper.

And I may have actually met her in person as well later during that 2 week Ride-Along shift while a Trooper & I responded to a VID-vehicle in ditch call.

But I will talk about the AK meeting on paper first.

One evening when I had arrived early for my shift Ride-Along I stepped into the back squad room where the AST officers kept their desks all clustered together.

Along the Office walls were various FBI Most Wanted bulletings, Lost & Missing posts and other clippings and photos of the day, week or month.

I thumbed through the clipboard that was stuffed full of Lost & Missing posts.

I barely recall what I read about Stacey. It was the picture in that clipboard bulletin that got my attention.

Everett, WA 1995
I had been discharged from the Military and had recently moved to Everett to look for work and a place to live.

I had obtained Cosmetology licensure in WA state by then-due to being previously licensed in another state and I was hitting all the area salons and day spa's for work.

I remember that Salon in Sutters Creek.
It was nice. It was a great place to work judging by the decor and the busy stylists and upscale clients present there on the day that I walked into the place.

Stacey's picture was posted in the Salon's front window and door. You couldn't miss it.

I saw her picture and read the note regarding her disappearance and read the pleadings from her family for help.

The girl at reception desk noticed me looking at her as she in turn looked sadly at the empty stylist station, it was empty of tools, capes, a client in the chair and a stylist behind the chair talking while she worked.

The station was empty save for a single basket of flowers, a big pink card and a few notes from well wishers and co-workers scribbled in haste and piled beside the basket. I quietly left.

I considered that "Missing" event for that salon to be something to avoid entirely.
And I did not return to that Salon ever again looking for work. Somehow the sadness of that event spooked me.

Fairbanks, AK 2001
As I thumbed through the AST L&M postings I noticed Stacey's picture and recalled that it was the same photo of the Sutters Creek Salon posting.

But this time the message regarding Stacey was different.

It wasn't the standard Lost & Missing post listing the victims Name, DOB, Sex, Height, Weight, message body regarding the circumstances etc.

It was more of a follow up posting.

It basically said.
That Stacey had been seen in rural Alaska recently and AST was interested in locating her for questioning. The status regarding her disappearance was changed too.

She was no longer priority along with the other Lost & Missing posts.

AST understood that somehow she had just walked away from her former life leaving her belongings there in the Salon and years later.....she turns up in rural AK and no one knows why.

Vehicle In Ditch and Closing
Now, regarding the VID and that day we stopped to help.
Rather, we were dispatched to the scene and noted that a driver had driven uphill and slid off the icy street.

The driver called 911 and a Trooper & I arrived later.
The driver of this VID was good i.e. No Outstanding Wants or Warrants, nothing amiss with him. No drinking and driving, he just went off the road and dented his vehicle.

Some friends of this VID driver drove up shortly after and I did see them from a close distance of 10'. All of the VID-driver friends struck me as the Party type. To work all day and then go drink after hours and hang out and then go home.

One young lady I noticed amongst this crowd reminded me of Stacey.
Same facial features, same stature and build.

This girl was about late 20's and had on a dark T-shirt and dark jeans.
Her hair was dark brown and past her shoulders, pulled back into a loose pony-tail.
She smiled at me as she stepped out of the car with her friends to observe the vehicle stuck in the ditch and joined in with talking and joking with their friend-the driver.

The Trooper I was assigned with that evening sent me up the hill 500' with road flares to ignite and place alongside the street to warn oncoming traffic.

Perhaps it was the recent posting and my mind awhirl with the varied Police dealings I saw with the AST officers that week. I won't say anything definite regarding this "alleged siting" of Stacey.

I wasn't too worried anymore after seeing that new 2001 Lost & Missing update and I put that memory aside until now when checking the current listings of WA states lost and missing people.

After going out to the Village I learned more about the "end of the Road" mentality.
How the allure and the mystique of Alaskan living beckons people from all walks of Life.

For in many places the End of the Road mentality is strong and Alaskans, by and large, do respect that in anyone and try to give each other some space.

Just thought I'd tell you people what I experienced in 1995 and 2001.

You may use my words as you see fit.
You may forward this narrative and my contact info to Stacey's family, friends as you see fit if this helps.

Officer Flyinghorse


ALL THE SMALL THINGS
It was a run down apartment complex in the low rent district adjacent to the Alaska University that we Officers were summoned to that night by Dispatch.

"Villa Court Apts" read the large signs on the lawn, the property was located on "where else?", Villa Court street.

I made a mental note "to never ever rent a room at this place", as my right foot hit the icy ground stepping out of the AST Crown Victoria patrol vehicle.

The Trooper I rode along with tonight was slight in stature, 5'2", 160lbs.
Yet he had a toughness about him that showed in his early 30's boyish face.
He paused for a moment to look at the towering 3 story apt structure, like he'd been there before Many Many times over and shrugged before stepping onto the icy sidewalk.

I followed his lead.

Mrs Santaria was having problems with her teenage son that week, Trooper Vance quickly briefed me as we marched along.

He cut school a few days, was found passed out from alcohol consumption along the road way 1/4 mile away from here by his friends a month ago and just recently had been seen by the City police running away from the community library.

Vandals had broken in and smashed up the 20 computer stations used for public internet access.

'Whoa', I thought.
What have we here?

The Trooper looked at my expression and must have known my thoughts about seeing the signs of a future prison inmate.
"exactly" he said before halting at a broken apt door.

We let ourselves in.

"Mrs Santaria?", Trooper Vance called out. The apt was dark except for a kitchen stove light way in back.
Vance pulled his flashlight out and lit up the front hallway as we advanced into the spacious apt. The "hood" clasp on his duty holster quietly creaked open as he searched the darkness.

Prepare for the worst-Hope for the best.
Closet clear.
Bathroom clear.
We moved forward. I glanced back to the open door, checking our backs so we wouldn't be surprised from behind.

I looked at the door more closely as I eased away from it and nudged it as shut as I could move it.

It was broken in the lock, the door knob and the side frame-like someone had kicked it in from the Outside.

Apts like these were all the same Vance mentioned to me earlier.
A long hallway with closet nooks on either side,
a bathroom, a washer/dryer room, 2 bedrooms,
a utility closet and then the larger living room and kitchen area in back
leading to the back door/patio area.

My mind kicked into gear laying out a floor plan before I saw the apt.
I was close with what I imagined.

We turned on the hallway lights and observed Mrs Santaria quietly sitting in her sofa. I say IN, because as big and comfy as the sofa looked. It was well worn and well used. You sank to the floor sitting in it.

By now my mind had taken in the apt smells; the body odor, the laundry, the used socks, the cooked food smells, the trash sitting in the can, the Cold winter air still upon us Officers, Vance's aftershave.

Some Troopers wore cologne or aftershave as part of the overall "professional appearance" look, but at times like this when entering a big apt that was made to look small due to the heaps of dirty clothes in each room, the unwashed piles of dishes in the sink and on the kitchen table and the large garbage bags of trash that needed to be taken out.
You tended to want to be clean, look clean and act decent so as to instill Hope and Calm in the minds of the people you dealt with.

And you also wrapped yourself in your own coccoon of comfort when dealing with less than savory people and less than savory living conditions.

All rooms clear, no one home except for Mrs Santaria and she softly cried for a few minutes while Trooper Vance moved closer and knelt down to talk with her.
She glanced up at me, noted the brown duty coveralls, saw the shoulder patches and sewn on patch/badge and started talking to Vance.

I took it all in that evening.
The Troopers demeanor, his body language, his care and compassion.

While the City's criminal element decayed around us and calls for service flooded the Dispatch each hour, we took some time out for a wonderful Spanish woman and listened to her sadness.

Soon it would be just me doing the responding and talking to parents, grandparents, children Out in the Village in circumstances probably more dangerous than what lurked in the City for responding Law Enforcement.

Mr's Santaria's son, Ricky was rebelling and making homelife more difficult for her with his loud music, his angry outbursts and once he was smoking in his bedroom.

He was experiencing growing pains and was angry at the absence of his stepdad who was out on the Bering Sea as a deckhand on a fishing boat hauling in tanner and snow crab. He was worried that his dad would fall overboard and be lost at sea and his body never found.

His grades fell in school and he stopped doing good activities with his friends and the recent vandalism to the City library wasn't his doing. He waited outside afraid to go in, much to his credit thank goodness.

But still he was going down a path in life that leads to a dead-end. The bout of drinking was done on a dare from school buddies and Mrs Santaria was upset at the recent cuts in school funds for after-school youth activities.

Ricky loved basketball and ice hockey but those programs were cut by the local high school. The local Alaska University tried to pick up the slack with it's acceptance of high school students to participate in it's athletic programs during weeknights but one of the University faculty balked at Ricky's attendance due to his run in with the City police.

Trooper Vance said he would look into the matter and would do what he could to help.

(Looking back on this moment I do believe that Ricky was helped by Trooper Vance.
Because one year later when I hauled in 3 prisoners from the Village, some Troopers at Post HQ were talking about losing a basketball game, losing-Just Barely! And one mentioned Ricky. I quickly cuffed the 3 men to the heavy wooden bench and took a moment to talk shop with the Troopers and get my mind off the Assaults and Domestic Violence arrestees.)

We Officers, whether City Police, State Troopers or VPSO's do get sent out to find people. Most people, the Criminals don't want to be found or helped at all.

But we do find a few Lost souls and help bring them back across that line they crossed just yesterday or last year.

To me that Line is Humanity.
If you intentionally physically hurt someone else for any reason other than defense of your life or another person's life then you have forever given up your Rights to be treated fairly or to be trusted again.

That line can also extend to a person's attitude and overall outlook upon Life as well. For as much as I have personally thought things over deeply and decided to be a good person and do the right things, I know other people have done the same thing and have chosen Not to do the right things.

If we can find the young offenders and help redirect their energies and potential lives before they have crossed that Line of Humanity then we've done the entire world a favor.

But sadly some people are way over that line Lost and for many different reasons others are Missing.

We can't help everyone. We never find everyone.

Once in awhile we lose one of our own in the process.
As evidenced when one new AST officer got into a fight with his wife and she dialed 911, summoning his own peers to his house.

Stress had built up in his life from his work, his family, finances, and he closed the door on the Troopers at his door and turned his pistol upon himself in front of his own wife and children.

And another Trooper ended his service quietly in the back parking lot of Post HQ one night in his vehicle, he ate his service pistol. And no one really knows why he killed himself. No signs of problems, life was great and his schedule was full of Academy classes to Instruct and trainings to attend. Rest in peace brother, until we meet again.

The Lost & Missing are out there and it's up to each of us to do our part in finding them. I hope that you will do your part.

Take time for the Children around you. Help them, read to them, play with them. Give them your time.
Help the Elders too and those that have no vehicle and no $.

It's what I did once when I was working in the Village. I went broke and wore myself out helping other people. I babysat, I mentored teens, I was a big brother, a father-figure, a Dad, an Uncle, a target to my enemies.

I can't do that right now in my current village where I reside due to the Leadership not hiring me locally and due to no one helping and supporting me with what volunteering that I want to do.

It doesn't matter what you do; big things or small things. Yet it's the small things that people remember most when looking back. That you smiled and said hello. That you talked with them, that you cared.

I did what I could there in the Villages and now here. I challenge you to find them and bring them back; the Lost & Missing.

Officer Samuel L Flyinghorse

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