Forty Five

2019

I am in my house in the room I call my office.  In a few days I will be meeting with Becca to review our next steps.  I take out the newspaper article I found at the airport in Las Vegas that started it all.  

Las Vegas Review-Journal  

A Half Century Later 

Still Searching for Jenny

Nevada Couple Renews Efforts to Find Daughter

It’s been forty-five years.  But they have not forgotten.  

“Not for one day” says Mary Smith. 

“Not for one day” echoes her husband, Walter.  

Forty-five years ago this June, the Smiths’ daughter disappeared.  

In June 1974, Jennifer Smith, a vivacious, bright, adventurous, seventeen-soon to be eighteen year-old, disappeared from her Elko, Nevada hometown just one week before her high school graduation. 

Smith left her home for school on Monday morning June 3rd.  She had an exam to take early in the day. She took the exam. Shortly after noon, she participated in a rehearsal for that Friday’s graduation ceremony. She left school after the rehearsal but did not return home.  She simply disappeared.

“Jenny was a good kid. A wonderful daughter.   A little wild at times, but she was a teenager. We got along as well as parents can be expected to get along with their teenage children.”

When the Smiths reported their daughter’s disappearance the local police did not respond immediately. June 3rd was not the first time Jennifer had left home.  The Smiths’ daughter had a penchant for adventure according to both Mary and Walter. 

“Jenny loved travelling and particularly liked riding on motorcycles. Much to our displeasure, and against our warnings, she hitch-hiked around the state and, in the summers, around the country.  We would admonish her, but she was a strong-willed kid.  She’d pick up and hitchhike here and there. Often by herself. Often without telling us she was going. 

“But this time it was at the end of high school. Graduation was Friday. One more week before high school was over and she would graduate.  And she leaves then?  It did not make sense. We spoke with the principal and some of her teachers. Jenny was not in any trouble.  As it turned out she passed the test she needed to take and was all set to graduate on Friday with her class.  How much could she have considered leaving home if she participated in the graduation rehearsal on Monday afternoon?”

Of course, the Smiths were worried, but their worst fears were alleviated because beginning on June 6th they started receiving postcards.

“We still did not understand why she left when she did, but we received postcards, telling us she was fine. Picture post cards from various places. Nothing on the cards but a few words. The cards would read ‘I’m fine.’  ‘Don’t worry.’ ‘Safe.’ ‘Got to do this.’ We must have received a dozen of these postmarked from various places. Cities in California, Arizona; Albuquerque, New Mexico; Grand Junction, Colorado; Nebraska, Kansas, Texas, Oklahoma, Iowa, Illinois, Pennsylvania, New York; all over. Nothing to the cards except a few words letting us know she was okay. Jenny was a good girl, considerate that way.”

The mailings continued for close to six weeks.  

“Still, we had no idea where she was, just that she had been in these places.  We spoke to the police who said there was not much they could do. There were runaways all over the country at that time. Probably still now. And besides, the police reminded us--more than once--that this was not the first time Jenny had left. So, we became resolved to the fact that she would come back when she was ready.  We have some kin in Oklahoma and Texas.  We pressed my sister in Oklahoma City, and she said they’d heard from Jenny but hadn’t seen her and did not know where she was.”

Jennifer Smith had no brothers or sisters and not many close friends in school.  Many of her classmates are no longer in Elko or even Nevada. Some are deceased. The Review-Journal was able to contact four 1974 graduates.  While they all knew of the 45-year-old incident, their memories of the details are understandably vague.  One person who asked not to be identified said, “Jenny hung by herself.  Was a bit of a loner.”

Then one day, the Smiths received the phone call that would distort their lives irreparably.

Looking for Kozak

“We were home one night in July.” Says Mary. “It was early evening, maybe around 6. Walter was out back starting the coals for a cookout. The phone rings and it is a collect call from Jenny.  I accept the charges of course. When I do, Jenny started talking rapid fire. She sounded panicky. Does not sound like Jenny at all. She was always so cool with a ‘nothing is going to happen wrong to me’ attitude. But this night she was frantic.  I said to her that I’d go get Dad so he could speak to her too, but she said with urgency that she had only a few seconds.

“She started blurting things out. She was whispering but the whispers sounded like desperate shouts. ‘Mom. I’m in trouble. Trouble. Get a hold of Kozak. Barbara’s friend. Kozak knows who this is. Barbara’s friend. Kozak. Kozak knows.’” 

Suddenly Mary Smith heard a screech and muffled scream. It sounded to her like her daughter had been yanked away. The phone banged on something, maybe the seat in an old phone booth or the counter you’d rest your coins on when placing a long-distance call.  Then it sounded like the phone was slammed into the receiver.

Mary Smith shouted for Walter who came running from the back.  Mary described the call to Walter.  They didn’t know any Kozak.  The Smiths called the police who came immediately to their Elko home.  The police wanted to know who the referenced Barbara person was. 

“The only Barbara we knew lived next door.  She was married to a creep of a husband, but she herself was nice.  The police went next door.  Barbara and the husband didn’t know any Kozak.”

The police dutifully investigated Jenny’s call. They searched for Kozak, but the search was fruitless. No person in Elko knew any individual named Kozak. 

Kozak, it turns out, is a very common Polish name.  Searching for Kozaks in large Polish communities throughout the country yielded nothing.  Barbara’s husband-- who had a criminal record for both burglary and domestic violence--was brought in for extensive interrogation. He insisted he knew no Kozak and there was nothing to suggest that the husband was lying or could be of help. 

Weeks and then months passed by. There were no more phone calls. No more post cards.  Jenny never returned.  Jennifer Smith’s body was never found.

“We took out ads in Nevada and California papers with what would have been Jennifer’s yearbook graduation picture in it.  No response to the notices in the newspaper. We learned the names of motorcycle publications and took ads out in them. Paid to have her yearbook photo in the ads. Nothing.” 

After two years the Smiths gave up. So did the police.  No one could find Jenny. No one could locate this Kozak.  The Smiths decided they needed to leave Elko and moved to Las Vegas, where they still reside, to try and forget about the incident. 

But they cannot.

As is the case with many octogenarians, Mary and Walter Smith are not tech savvy people. But they, of course, know of the internet and think maybe now with the internet and social media someone will be able to help them find Jenny.    

“We know it is unlikely.” Says Walter “It is forty-five years after all.  But we don’t know how many years we have left.  We are going to spend our energies to find our daughter. Or find out what the hell happened to her. We have promised ourselves that we will learn what happened before the 45th anniversary.”

Police Have Tried

The Review-Journal has contacted local, state and national police officials.  The answers to our queries have been uniform. There is not much that can be done in a case that is 45 years old. The graduation photo of Jenny Smith as a 17-year-old has limited value. Ms. Smith would be in her 60s now and is likely unrecognizable if she is indeed alive.  The chances are not good that additional information will surface. It does not help that Jenny’s last name is a common one.

The Smiths now look frail.  They both seem to have all their faculties, but they have trouble moving around. They bear more than the physical burdens, however. The Smiths lost their only child a half century ago and have lugged the weight of that tragedy on their backs ever since.

It is a terrible tragedy.   Anyone with information about the 1974 disappearance of Jennifer Smith please contact the Review-Journal.  

We all hope the Smiths can locate their daughter.