Author: kbeaudin

November 21st haunts me every year. For numerous reasons, it is incredibly daunting in 2022. For one, Kathy’s case continues to be unsolved. Fifty-one years is a long time to wait for answers.

I still remember how cold it was the night she went missing. I wondered if she dressed warm enough to sustain the freezing temperatures. When they found her body naked and only in knee-high socks pulled down to her ankles, I couldn’t help but think the person that hurt her was a monster.

Most likely, Kathy was dead when he left her body on the ground that November night. But after beating, raping, strangling, and removing her clothes, he ran over her with his vehicle to ensure he left her lifeless.

Some keep their secrets about Kathy’s murder, thinking it won’t change anything. I’m telling you, it will make a difference to my family if you come forward. A dear friend of mine, JoAnne, continually prays for the day; when someone says, “Case closed, Justice served.” That is my prayer too.

Another reason this year is challenging is that my 45-year-old son-in-law, Josh, was diagnosed with a glioblastoma in April-an inoperable terminal brain tumor. Our world is spinning, and we are trying to slow it down. My beautiful daughter, Missy, and their three sons, Wyatt, Logan, and Tucker, face unbelief and pain while they navigate this path. It breaks my heart.

After Josh’s diagnosis, he began radiation and chemotherapy. The treatment killed so many cancer cells the tumor started to bleed, causing a hemorrhagic stroke. We watched as the helicopter airlifted him to The James in Columbus, Ohio. The news from the doctor is, “His chance of survival is slim.” Josh fooled them all and us; he is still fighting for more time with all that love him.

Josh reminds us that “God is good” through it all. I try to remember that when it seems too much to bear. The memories from my haunting past, the battles of today, I say the words that Josh believes, no matter what happens, “God is good,” all the time.

I love and miss you, Kathy. I love you, Josh, and thank you for loving me.

We will never forget your birthday, Kathy, even if you’re not here. It is challenging to envision you as a sixty-four yeard old. How does so much time go by, yet it stands still at times. The day I heard about your murder was the worse day I’ve ever experienced.

Your murder continues to go unsolved, and your family continues to hope that one day we will hear the words, “case closed.” I know some individuals have information that could make it happen. Please come forward; you have nothing to fear since the prime suspect has passed away.

You were a bright star that was not allowed to shine. I believe what you could have contributed to this world would have been amazing!

Happy birthday, Sweet One. Kathy, your family loves you and will never forget you as long as we are alive.

Kisses and hugs,
Karen

Dear Kathy,
It’s fifty years now that you’ve been gone; murdered on November 21, 1971. We all miss you and can’t understand how something so horrific could happen to our little sister, such a precious soul. My heart still weeps for you and what you endured here on earth, but I know, ‘The Only Scars in Heaven, Don’t Belong to You.’ This song says it all; the words are from someone that understands tremendous loss.

We may never get the answers we hope for; some keep their secrets, and they’ve hindered resolution for you and our family. I know in heaven, it doesn’t matter to you anymore, but it still matters to us.

Kathy, ou were beautiful, kind, and unique—a diamond amid tarnished gems. I imagine the angel you are, and it gives me peace. I’m sure your smile lights up heaven.

Will we ever stop counting the years Kathy went missing and found murdered in Franklin, NH, November 21, 1971? Probably not. We measure the days and years and calculate the time it’s gone unsolved. Who would have thought it would take this long to see the case solved and a conviction brought forth. Indeed, none of my family did. Yet, we continue to hope that we would hear the words, case solved, case closed.

As the years go by, days like today never seem to get more comfortable. We remember, and the pain is still there. We grieve the loss of Kathy and the life we expected to have with her.

This year is incredibly hard. I think it’s because of everything going on. The elections, Covid, isolation, and the passing of the last living suspect, Kenneth Bonnenfant, have not helped. I’m sure there are many feeling the pressure of this disturbing year. Grieving during a time of uncertainty makes it more difficult. I will be glad when 2020 is over and pray 2021 will be a better year.

I will always miss Kathy; that will never change. It saddens me not to have the time I could have had with her. To see her laugh, watch her mature into a woman, find someone to love, and have children. I know she would have been one incredible person.

So, today on this 49th anniversary of you going missing, searching for you, found brutally beaten, raped, strangled, stripped of your clothing, then run over by a car, I cry. I cry because of what happened to you and what could have been.

I love you, Kathy, and miss you terribly. One day we will be together again.