"THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE"

THE UNSOLVED MYSTERY… THAT WASN’T

What do we make of people who simply disappear one day and are never seen again? That’s long been of particular interest to me – so interesting that I’ve penned several books on the subject. As I’ve long noted, there are numerous reasons why people vanish – murder, abduction, suicide and voluntary escapes from reality among them. And then there are the more unnerving cases, where no rational explanation seems to exist. How, or why, do such things happen?

Are they incidents linked to the supernatural, or could there be more mundane explanations for many of them? Over the years, I’ve collected dozens of stories of disappearances that seemed the strangest to me, the most inexplicable and in many cases, the most disturbing. I certainly do not claim to have collected every unsolved disappearance in history (far from it, which is disturbing in itself) and some readers will notice the glaring lack of inclusion in any of my writings for what some believe is a prominent paranormal disappearance mystery spot – the Bermuda Triangle.

The fact that the Bermuda Triangle is missing from all of my books was not an accident on my part. While the area of the Triangle is certainly marked by a number of strange occurrences, I don’t believe there is anything paranormal to it at all. In fact, after years of collecting stories of unsolved vanishings, it become readily apparent that Triangle boasts no more disappearances that other parts of the world’s oceans.

The Bermuda Triangle, also known as the Devil's Triangle, is a region in the western part of the North Atlantic Ocean in which a number of aircraft and surface vessels are alleged to have disappeared in mysterious circumstances which fall beyond the boundaries of human error, piracy, equipment failure, or natural disasters. Popular culture has attributed some of these disappearances to the paranormal, a suspension of the laws of physics, or activity by extraterrestrial beings, but in many cases, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Documentation shows that many of the incidents have been inaccurately reported or embellished by later authors – something that happens far more often than most of us care to admit.

Of course, this is not to say that there have not been strange disappearances in the area, or that unsolved disappearances don’t exist, it’s just that the mythos surrounding the area is much greater than it deserves to be. 

The boundaries of the Bermuda Triangle are allegedly from the Atlantic coast of Florida to San Juan, Puerto Rico, and on to the mid-Atlantic island of Bermuda. Most of the alleged disappearances are concentrated along the southern boundary around the Bahamas and the Florida Straits.

But just how dangerous is this area? Apparently, not very…

The area is one of the most heavily-sailed shipping lanes in the world, with ships crossing through it daily for ports in the Americas, Europe, and the Caribbean Islands. Cruise ships are also plentiful, and pleasure craft regularly go back and forth between Florida and the islands. It is also a heavily flown route for commercial and private aircraft heading towards Florida, the Caribbean, and South America from points north. If this was some sort of paranormal “wormhole,” wouldn’t disappearances occur much more often?

That would certainly seem to be the case, so how did such stories get started in the first place? The seeds of the Bermuda Triangle legend were first planted by an Associated Press dispatch on September 16, 1950, in which reporter E.V. Jones took note of what he characterized as “mysterious disappearances” of ships and planes between the Florida coast and Bermuda. Two years later, in a FATE magazine article by George X. Sand recounted “a series of strange marine disappearances, each leaving no trace whatever, that have taken place in the last few years” in a “watery triangle bounded roughly by Florida, Bermuda and Puerto Rico.”

M.K. Jessup picked up some of the stories for his 1955 book, The Case for the UFO, which suggested that aliens were responsible for the disappearances, an idea that was echoed by other authors. It was Vincent H. Gaddis who actually coined the catchphrase that entered popular culture when he wrote an article for the February 1964 issue of Argosy called “The Deadly Bermuda Triangle.” Soon, nearly every new book on true mysteries included chapters on the Bermuda Triangle and claims began to be made that the area was populated by an intelligent, underwater civilization, which was stealing ships, plans and people from our world.

The first book to be written about the Triangle was a self-published work called Limbo of the Lost by John Wallace Spencer. It was re-published as a Bantam paperback in 1973 and attracted a huge audience, as did the 1970 documentary, The Devil’s Triangle. Bermuda Triangle fever peaked in 1974 with the publication of The Bermuda Triangle, a major bestseller by Charles Berlitz and J. Manson Valentine. Two other paperbacks, The Devil’s Triangle, by Richard Winer, and No Earthly Explanation, by John Wallace Spencer, also racked up impressive sales.

The heart of the Bermuda Triangle mystery seemed to revolve around the alleged “scores” of vessels that had vanished in the region. Among the most notable were:

Flight 19

United States Navy Flight 19 was a training flight of TBM Avenger bombers that went missing on December 5, 1945 while over the Atlantic. The squadron's flight path was scheduled to take them due east for one hundred and twenty miles, north for seventy-three miles, and then back over a final one hundred and twenty-mile leg that would return them to the naval base. The flight, however, never returned. The impression is given that the planes encountered unusual phenomena and anomalous compass readings, and that the flight took place on a calm day under the supervision of an experienced pilot, Lt. Charles Carroll Taylor. Adding to the intrigue is that the Navy's report of the accident was ascribed to "causes or reasons unknown." Adding to the mystery, a search and rescue Mariner aircraft with a thirteen-man crew was dispatched to aid the missing squadron, but the Mariner itself was never heard from again. Later, there was a report from a tanker cruising off the coast of Florida of a visible explosion at about the time the Mariner would have been on patrol. While the basic facts of this version of the story are essentially accurate, some important details are missing. The weather was becoming stormy by the end of the incident, and naval reports and written recordings of the conversations between Taylor and the other pilots of Flight 19 do not indicate magnetic problems.

Mary Celeste

The mysterious 1872 abandonment of the brigantine Mary Celeste is often but inaccurately connected to the Triangle (perhaps in an effort to give credibility to the Triangle by placing a real-life mystery there), the ship having been abandoned off the coast of Portugal. The event is possibly confused with the loss of a ship with a similar name, the Mari Celeste, a paddle steamer that hit a reef and quickly sank off the coast of Bermuda on September 13, 1864.

Ellen Austin

A ship called the Ellen Austin supposedly came across an abandoned vessel and attempted to salvage it in 1881. A crew was placed on board and the derelict was sailed for New York. According to the stories, the derelict disappeared while en route. A check of Lloyd's of London records proved the existence of a ship called the Meta, built in 1854. In 1880, the Meta was renamed Ellen Austin. There are no casualty listings for this vessel, or any vessel at that time, that would suggest a large number of missing men placed on board a ship that later disappeared.

USS Cyclops

The incident resulting in the single largest loss of life in the history of the United States Navy, not related to combat, occurred when USS Cyclops, under the command of Lt Cdr G. W. Worley, went missing without a trace with a crew of three hundred and nine men, sometime after March 4, 1918, after departing the island of Barbados. Although there is no strong evidence for any single theory, many independent theories exist, some blaming storms, some capsizing, and some suggesting that wartime enemy activity was to blame for the loss.

Theodosia Burr Alston

Theodosia Burr Alston was the daughter of former United States Vice President Aaron Burr. Her disappearance has been cited at least once in relation to the Triangle. She was a passenger on board the Patriot, which sailed from Charleston, South Carolina, to New York City on December 30, 1812, and was never heard from again. Both piracy and the War of 1812 have been offered as explanations and her ship was well outside the Triangle when it vanished. Once again, a prominent personality was included in the stories of the Triangle in order to give the location more credibility.

Joshua Slocum

The same thing was done with Joshua Slocum and his famous ship, the Spray. The once-derelict fishing boat was refitted as an ocean cruiser by Joshua Slocum and used by him to complete the first ever single-handed circumnavigation of the world, between 1895 and 1898. In 1909, Slocum set sail from Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts, bound for Venezuela. Neither he nor the Spray were ever seen again. There is no evidence they were in the Bermuda Triangle when they disappeared, nor is there any evidence of paranormal activity.

Carroll A. Deering

A five-masted schooner built in 1919, the Carroll A. Deering was found hard aground and abandoned at Diamond Shoals, near Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, on January 31, 1921. Rumors at the time indicated the Deering was a victim of piracy, possibly connected with the illegal rum-running trade during Prohibition.

Douglas DC-3

On December 28, 1948, a Douglas DC-3 aircraft, number NC16002, disappeared while on a flight from San Juan, Puerto Rico, to Miami. No trace of the aircraft or the thirty-two people onboard was ever found. From the documentation compiled by the Civil Aeronautics Board investigation, a possible key to the plane's disappearance was found, but barely touched upon by the Triangle writers: the plane's batteries were inspected and found to be low on charge, but ordered back into the plane without a recharge by the pilot while in San Juan. Whether or not this led to complete electrical failure will never be known.

Star Tiger and Star Ariel

G-AHNP Star Tiger disappeared on January 30, 1948 on a flight from the Azores to Bermuda and G-AGRE Star Ariel disappeared on January 17, 1949, on a flight from Bermuda to Kingston, Jamaica. Both were Avro Tudor IV passenger aircraft operated by British South American Airways.

SS Marine Sulphur Queen

The Marine Sulphur Queen, a T2 tanker converted from oil to sulfur carrier, was last heard from on February 4, 1963 with a crew of thirty-nine near the Florida Keys. The Marine Sulphur Queen was the first vessel mentioned in Vincent Gaddis' 1964 Argosy Magazine article, but he left it as having "sailed into the unknown," despite the Coast Guard report that not only documented the ship's badly-maintained history, but declared that it was an unseaworthy vessel that should never have left port. Other authors embellished the story even further, making it a part of Triangle lore.

Raifuku Maru

One of the more famous incidents that allegedly occurred in the Triangle took place in 1921, when the Japanese vessel Raifuku Maru went down with all hands after sending a distress signal which allegedly said, "Danger like dagger now. Come quick!" or "It's like a dagger, come quick!" This has led writers to speculate on what the "dagger" was, with a waterspout being the likely candidate. In reality, the ship was nowhere near the Triangle, nor was the word "dagger" a part of the ship's distress call, which was actually “Now very danger. Come quick.” The ship actually left Boston for Hamburg, Germany, on April 21, 1925 and got caught in a severe storm and sank in the North Atlantic with all hands.

Connemara IV

This vessel was a pleasure yacht that was found adrift in the Atlantic south of Bermuda on September 26, 1955. It is usually stated in the stories that the crew vanished while the yacht survived being at sea during three hurricanes. The 1955 Atlantic hurricane season lists only one storm coming near Bermuda towards the end of August, hurricane "Edith;" of the others, "Flora" was too far to the east, and "Katie" arrived after the yacht was recovered. It was confirmed that the Connemara IV was empty and in port when "Edith" may have caused the yacht to slip her moorings and drift out to sea.

Unfortunately, the articles and books on the subject showed little evidence of original research and it was obvious that each of the chroniclers were merely re-writing each other’s work. In 1975, Lawrence David Kusche, a research librarian from Arizona State University, published a devastating debunking of the Triangle with a book called The Bermuda Triangle Mystery—Solved! He called it a manufactured mystery and did the archival digging that many other writers had neglected. Weather records, reports of official investigators, newspaper accounts and other sources showed that Triangle literature had played very loose with the evidence. 

In the book, he concluded that the number of ships and aircraft reported missing in the area was not significantly greater, proportionally speaking, than in any other part of the ocean. Also, in an area often hit by tropical storms, the number of disappearances that did occur was not disproportionate, unlikely or mysterious. Oddly, though, most of the Triangle writers failed to mention such storms.  He also found that the number of disappearances had been exaggerated by sloppy research. A boat listed as missing would be reported, but its eventual (if belated) return to port may not have been mentioned. Other disappearances that were cited never occurred at all. For example, one plane crash was said to have taken place in 1937 off Daytona Beach, Florida, in front of hundreds of witnesses but a check of the local papers revealed nothing.

Other, official sources supported Kusche’s findings. In April 1975, Lloyd’s of London noted that, according to their records, four hundred and twenty eight vessels had been reported missing throughout the world since 1955. “Our intelligence service,” officials at the legendary insurance company wrote, “can find no evidence to support the claim that the ‘Bermuda Triangle’ has more losses than elsewhere. This finding is upheld by the United States Coast Guard whose computer-based records of casualties in the Atlantic go back to 1958.”

In the wake of these statements, only silence was heard from the proponents of the Bermuda Triangle mystery. They were unable to mount a credible defense and because of this, the claims that the area was an authentic anomaly began to suffer. Despite occasional reappearances in supermarket tabloids and the long memories of paranormal buffs who read about the region when they were first getting interested in the unexplained as children, the Bermuda Triangle survives as only a footnote in the history of passing sensations.

Or at least that’s how it should be…

The Vanished Cadet

THE VANISHED CADET

A West Point Mystery

On this date, January 7, 1950, events began in what became one of the strangest disappearances of the middle twentieth century – the vanishing of a West Point cadet named Richard Colvin Cox. As far as anyone could tell, he vanished without a trace while still on the grounds of the legendary military academy, creating a mystery still remains unsolved. To this day, he is the only West Point cadet that vanished and was never found – dead or alive.

West Point, America’s most esteemed military academy, is located on the banks of the Hudson River, about fifty miles from New York City. It is an impressive gothic-like fortress with slit windows, turrets, and stone walls that give the impression of it being an impregnable place. The academy has a rich history and, in addition, has provided America’s armies with its top commanders, as well as a number of notable personalities, including Federal and Confederate Civil War officers like Grant, Lee, Hood, Jackson, Longstreet, Sheridan, Sherman and Stuart; George Armstrong Custer; John J. Pershing; Dwight D. Eisenhower; Douglas MacArthur; and many others.

Still, it must be pointed out that many of the young men and women who manage to get into West Point, have doubts about their decision during the first year. During that time, first year students are known as “plebes,” the lowest of the low. Hazing by upperclassmen is rough and old-fashioned, as are the scholastic and psychological approaches of the academy. The purpose of West Point has always been to mold young people into field commander potential and the idea behind hazing has been an effort to blot out a cadet’s past personality and turn them into West Pointers. Every once in a while, a cadet finds himself or herself unable to bear the pressure and occasionally, a plebe – or even an upperclassmen – goes absent without leave from West Point. However, the tradition and honor code of the academy usually brings them back again, ashamed and penitent. Oddly enough, West Point, usually rigid and severe, has always maintained sympathy for such cases and while a punishment is always meted out, cadets are almost always welcome back into the fold.

West Point, America’s most prestigious military academy – and the scene of the disappearance of cadet Richard Cox

 In 1950, one cadet who successfully weathered the stress of his plebe year at West Point was a young man named Richard Colvin Cox. He was twenty-one years old, with blue eyes, a fair complexion, and light brown, close-cropped hair. Instructors and fellow classmen later recalled that Cox was morose during his first year, but not unusually so. The moods had not affected his studies and he rated in the upper third of his class. All in all, he seemed to be shaping up into top officer material.

 

Cox was an exceptional student and a promising young man. He grew up in Mansfield, Ohio, with his widowed mother, two brothers and four sisters. He had been an excellent student and the star of his high school swimming team. He had also been the president of his senior class and a member of the National Honor Society, which required good character as well as good grades. Although regarded as shy, Cox began dating Betty Timmons in high school. By the time that he reached West Point, the two were engaged. Cox spent his 1949 Christmas leave in Mansfield, where he and Betty had been inseparable. They talked constantly of their future together.

Dick had always dreamed of being an Army officer. He was in high school during most of World War II and he enlisted in the Army as soon as he graduated in June 1945. After training in Kentucky, he was assigned to the 27th Constabulary Division, a military police unit in Germany, which had recently surrendered. His unit, located in Coburg, Germany, was assigned to patrol the newly created border between East and West Germany. He took to Army life and spent his free time sightseeing and playing basketball on the Army team. He was an outstanding soldier and rose quickly to the rank of four-stripe sergeant. Cox began thinking of West Point and took the competitive exam for the Point. While he was waiting for the results, he received word from his mother. She had applied for a political appointment for him to West Point and had succeeded on getting it for him. This irritated Cox. He had wanted to get into the academy on his own merits, but as his friends told him, at least he would be able to attend. Cox accepted the appointment and arrived at West Point in September 1948.

Nothing especially remarkable occurred to Richard Cox during his first year at West Point. Already familiar with Army life, he found the regimen at the academy not too difficult. He suffered through his share of hazing, just like the other plebes, and went through a period of depression that was noted by his classmates and instructors, but never seemed to have any thoughts of quitting.

In September 1949, as his second year began, Cox was established in Room 1943 of the North Barracks. He shared the space with Cadets Joseph Urschell and Deane Welch and seemed happy to be back at West Point.

When he returned home to Mansfield for Christmas, he took with him two suits of civilian clothing, as cadets were permitted to do. Free of his uniform for a time, he slipped easily into civilian life. He and Betty Timmons at one point talked of eloping, apparently considering it rather seriously. But to do so meant expulsion from West Point, since cadets weren’t allowed to marry, and perhaps even the end of his military career. Cox – or perhaps Betty – thought about this dire penalty and the subject of elopement was dropped.

Cox returned to West Point on January 2, 1950 and the first week back from vacation passed uneventfully. Then on January 7, the first odd – and still unexplained – event occurred in the case. Peter C. Hains was the Cadet in Charge of Quarters at North Barracks on that Saturday afternoon. At around 4:45 p.m., the B Company telephone rang. Hains answered it and a rough man’s voice demanded to know if a fellow named Dick Cox was in the company. Hains replied that yes, Dick Cox was in B Company and the man said, “Well, look. When he comes in, tell him to come down to the hotel. Tell him George called. We knew each other in Germany. Tell him I’m a friend who wants to buy him dinner.”

When questioned later, Hains couldn’t remember much about the call, only that the man said his name was George. He was unsure if it was the man’s first name or last name. There was, however, no question about the hotel. It could only be the Hotel Thayer, which was about a half mile from the West Point grounds. By the academy’s rules, this was the only place other than the mess hall where Cox or any other cadet could eat a meal. Even so, any cadet who wanted to eat at the hotel needed a special dinner privilege pass to leave the grounds.

Several minutes after Hains took the call, Richard Cox walked past him. Informed of the call, Cox looked bewildered. He had no idea who “George” might be and couldn’t remember meeting anyone by that name in Germany. Finally, Cox shrugged off the message and went upstairs to his room.

About 45 minutes after the mysterious telephone call, a man who was about six feet tall, hatless and wearing a tightly-belted trench coat, walked into Grant Hall and asked to see Richard Cox. Visitors who come to West Point to see a cadet must come through the hall, a large lounge that was decorated with an impressive array of paintings and divisional insignia. Visitors were to give the name of the cadet that they wished to see and the cadet was informed. If he was free, he reported to greet the visitor at Grant Hall.

Grant Hall at West Point, where Cox met with the mysterious “George”

Cadet Officer of the Guard Mauro Maresca was on duty that evening and he remembered the man as having blond hair and a lightly tanned face, which was unusual in New York in January. However, Maresca did not ask the man his name, he merely relayed word to Cox that he had a visitor. A few minutes later, Dick entered Grant Hall. He hung his long gray dress overcoat on a rack, as cadets were required to do, and then presented himself to Maresca. The Officer of the Guard called out Cox’s name and the blond visitor stepped forward.

Cox recognized the man and they shook hands. Maresca later remembered that they seemed glad to see each other and after a few minutes, they walked over to the coat rack. While Cox was putting on his coat, the visitor kidded him about how he looked in his uniform. Before leaving Grant Hall, Cox signed out on a dinner pass or DP, which would allow him to dine at the Hotel Thayer. But apparently, he never went there. His DP was signed at 5:30 p.m. and by 7:00 p.m., Cox was back in North Barracks. This would have hardly have given him time to reach the Thayer, let alone eat one of the leisurely meals that the hotel’s dining room was known for, and return to the barracks.

Nor did anyone recall seeing Cox at the Thayer that night. The hotel had two small dining rooms with about thirty tables in each one. No one, not a staff member or another cadet, saw Cox in the restaurant that night.

There was one thing off about Cox when he returned to the barracks the night – he was slightly drunk. This was a foolish and dangerous state for a cadet to be seen in at West Point. He got away with it, though, and when he reached his room he changed out of his uniform and into a sweatshirt and running pants. Then he picked up a book and began to study. When his two roommates came in at about 10:30 p.m., he was asleep with a textbook in his hands.

The curious events of January 7 did not end with the arrival of Cox’s roommates.

A few moments after they walked in the door, the bugle sounded for lights out, startling Cox out of his sleep. He leapt hysterically to his feet, not seeming to realize where he was or who was in the room with him. Incoherent, he ran out of the room before his surprised roommates could restrain him. In the hallway, he leaned over the stairwell and shouted words that sounded like, “Is Alice down there?”

Alice? His roommates had never heard him mention a girl with that name. Later, a suggestion was made that Cox actually yelled, “Alles kaput,” which translates to “All is over!” This might have made more sense, given the events that were still to come.

Cadet Urschell led Cox back into Room 1943, asking him who Alice was. Cox shook his head, unable to explain his bizarre behavior. He collapsed onto his bed, not turning down the covers or undressing, and was immediately asleep again.

The next morning, Cox didn’t speak about anyone named Alice, but he was anxious to tell his friends about the previous night’s visitor. He explained that the man had been in his outfit in Germany and before that, was an Army Ranger. They had not been close friends – Cox considered the man to be quite morbid – and he had had a few drinks the night before, refusing to let Dick out of the car until he had some, too. He told his friends that the man spun terrible stories of his exploits when he was a Ranger, talking of cutting and emasculating Germans and that he’d lived with a girl in Germany, gotten her pregnant and killed her.

Welch and Urschell were as bothered by the stories as Cox seemed to be. He finished the account by expressing his dislike for “George.” He was always boasting, bragging all the time, he said, and he hoped that he would not return to visit again.

Unfortunately, George came back again around noon the next day, and once again, Cox went to meet him. He told Urschell and Welch that he would be back in about two hours, all the while complaining bitterly about the time that George was wasting and speaking again of his dislike for the man. He further characterized him as sadistic, strange and highly strung. He walked away muttering that he hoped to never see the man again.

To Urschell and Welch, Cox didn’t seem to fear his visitor. The mysterious George rated no higher than a nuisance. They attributed the fact that Cox went to meet him two times to mid-winter boredom. After enjoying himself during the holidays, Cox was finding it difficult to adjust to the rigid life of the Point again. Even an unwanted visitor like George offered a distraction from day-to-day life.

In the week that followed, Cox continued to make disparaging comments about George. Urschell and Welch could never remember if they asked Cox about Alice again, but they did recall that, back in December, about two weeks before going home to Ohio, Dick had written a letter to a young woman whom he had met in Germany. Without asking him directly, his roommates assumed this girl’s name was Alice.

On Saturday, January 14 – a week after George’s first appearance – Cox and Welch went together to watch the Army basketball team play against Rutgers. After the game, they walked back to North Barracks. Near the east entrance, Cox told Welch that he wanted to look at his grades, which each Saturday were posted near the company barracks. The two cadets parted ways.

It was later discovered that, just moments later, Cox met with a man who seemed to be waiting for him near the east entrance. It was assumed that this was George, but according to Cadet John Samotis, who witnessed Cox walk up to him, the man was short, had dark hair and was lighter than George. He also wore a trench coat, but it hung casually open.

Cox returned to Room 1943 about twenty minutes after Welch and again informed his roommates that he was going to have dinner with a “friend.” They assumed that he meant George, although he never stated that. He said that he would be back around 9:30 p.m.

Cox left the room at 5:45 p.m. and he took no money with him. In his room, he left behind $60 in cash and $45 in checks. Over his dress gray uniform, he put on his regulation long gray overcoat, which made him a conspicuous figure and one that would have been remembered if he was seen on the street. Unfortunately, though, no one remembered him and it was in this recognizable uniform that Cox vanished.

He did not go to the Hotel Thayer, for no one who dined there that night remembered seeing him. He did not return to the barracks that night, as required by regulations, and his bed was empty at 1:00 a.m. during the final check. The next morning, Cadets Urschell and Welch nervously appeared before the Provost Marshal to report their roommate missing.

Cadet Richard Cox became permanently absent without leave.

What happened to Richard Cox that night is unknown. If he left West Point by automobile, then he would have had to have been in the trunk, because cars were inspected when they exited through the gates. A young man in a West Point uniform would have attracted attention and Cox had to have been in uniform since his two civilian suits were still hanging in his closet. If Cox had been sneaking out, he could have climbed in a car trunk or, worse yet, if George had overpowered him and killed him, he could have hidden Dick’s body there. But, in light of Cox’s physical fitness and dislike for George, this scenario seemed unlikely.

Officials were taking the disappearance seriously, especially in light of George’s strange visits and Cox’s reported hostility towards the man. It was concluded that Cox had met either with an accident or with foul play on West Point grounds. A search was made of the academy by a Special Services regiment stationed at West Point but no trace of the missing cadet came to light on that Sunday.

In Cox’s room, though, an odd discovery was made. On his calendar, the day was circled in red, with the notation “See Kelley,” written in Cox’s neat hand beside the circle. At first, this was assumed to have been in reference to George, but it turned out to be in reference to James Kelley, a boyhood friend of Dick’s from Mansfield and a midshipman at Annapolis, Maryland. Kelley was visiting West Point on February 15 – not January 15 – and Cox had simply made the notation on the wrong calendar month.

On Monday, the Army’s Criminal Investigation Command was notified about Cox’s disappearance. A circular was drawn up with Cox’s description and information was provided to the civilian press the following day. But there was no word from anyone who might have seen Richard Cox. As days became weeks, the hunt for the cadet continued. The Army called in the FBI and local and state police joined in the search, sending out information throughout the country and to Germany.

At West Point, there was a room-by-room search of all buildings and then the search spread out into the surrounding area. Searchers formed in long lines five or six feet apart and moved slowly up and down the hillsides. When the search of the area yielded no clues, both Delafield Pond and the Lusk Reservoir were drained and dragged. The draining of Delafield Pond alone took two weeks.

In Ohio, the Cox family and Betty Timmons were interrogated by the FBI. They had no idea where Richard might be and had not seen him since Christmas, when his mother said that he was anxious to return to West Point.

Then, another odd thing happened. The letter that Cox had written to the young woman in Germany arrived back at the post and across its face were the German words for “Address Unknown.”

Investigators who believed this letter had been written to a girl named Alice got a surprise – Cox had written to a girl named Rosemary Vogel. The contents of the letter were innocent. Cox said that he had been looking through some of his photos of Germany and noticed one of Rosemary and decided to write. Cox’s quarters were ransacked in a search for the picture of Rosemary Vogel but nothing was found. It eventually turned up in Mansfield. Cox had apparently taken the photo, along with the rest of his pictures from Germany, home with him for Christmas.

Although the letter offered no clues of anything other than a young man feeling nostalgic for friends in another country, CID investigators in Germany set out to find Rosemary Vogel. The result was curious. The girl’s mother reported that her daughter had married an American sergeant and was living in a small town in New York. FBI men rushed there, only to find a happily married young woman who barely remembered Richard Cox.

Back in Germany, the CID investigators questioned every man that Cox had bunked or soldiered with. His daily movements were re-created and yet not a single clue of a double life or any suspicious behavior ever turned up. The FBI search in the United States was just as fruitless.

The hunt for the mysterious “George” was just as determined as the search for Cox himself. Military records in Germany were combed for a man who had transferred from the Rangers to the 27th Constabulary – a man who was blond, a braggart, and perhaps the lover of a girl named Alice. At the Army’s dead files center in St. Louis, personnel records of the Rangers and the 27th Constabulary were scrutinized for a man with George as a first or last name and who fit the description of the man who came to West Point. Only one such man was even found and he had an airtight alibi for the nights of January 7 and January 14.

At first, the Cox disappearance got little coverage in the newspapers. The actor Robert Montgomery, who also worked as a news commentator, mentioned the story on his show. Soon, reports of Cox began flooding in from around the country. He had been seen in hotels, motels, swimming pools and nightclubs. A gas station attendant claimed that he had seen Cox in the company of a dazzling blond showgirl. Richard’s brother called the report “absolutely preposterous.”

Every night for two months, the name Richard Colvin Cox was shouted out in the West Point roll call. There was only silence in reply. Finally, on March 15, Cox was formally dropped from the cadet roster. Colonel Edwin N. Howell, West Point Provost Marshal, said, “I am convinced there was foul play. I am sure that we will not find Cadet Cox alive.”

When the spring thaw arrived, another intensive search of the countryside began. It turned up something interesting – an unusual Brazilian-made .38 caliber pistol near the West Point firing range. Someone suggested that it was just the sort of exotic weapon that might be used by a Ranger. There was no way to tell how long the gun had been there, since it was so damaged by the rain and snow of the past winter months.

July 25, 1950 was Richard Cox’s twenty-second birthday. Every other year that he had been away from home, Cox had telephoned his family at some point during the day. Now, the family gathered by the telephone early in the morning and prayed that he would call. The phone rang several times but it was never Dick. At the end of the daylong vigil, his mother sighed, “You just go around in circles and come back to the beginning. There’s no end to it!”

At First Army Headquarters in New York, Colonel Robert J. Murphy said almost the same thing: “In view of the fact that the man has not turned up and we have no evidence to prove that he is deceased, we must hold to the belief that he is alive. Apparently he has no desire to reveal his whereabouts. Therefore, we will search for him until we find a solution of the disappearance.”

On the day that Cox’s class graduated from West Point, the cadet had been missing for two years, four months and twenty-four days. Betty Timmons had decided not to wait for her lost love and she married a man named William Broad. The case faded from news accounts, but it was not forgotten. When Life magazine printed a photograph of a GI in Korea named Cox, hundreds of people wrote in to say that it must be the missing cadet. While it seemed unlikely that the runaway soldier would have used his real name, a CID investigator was sent to question the man. His name was Cox, but he was not the right one, as proven by his fingerprints.

The man named “George” has also never been found. There is nothing to indicate who this mysterious man might have been and whether or not he had anything to do with the disappearance of Richard Cox. The case of Cadet Richard Cox remains open and unsolved to this day. He is the only West Point cadet who ever disappeared without being found, either dead or alive, but what happened to him remains unknown.

The unsolved mystery of Richard Cox appears in Troy’s book, WITHOUT A TRACE – the largest collection of disappearances and supernatural vanishings available. You canclick here to get an autographed copy. It’s also available as a Kindle and Nook edition!