Mother Still Hopes After Seven Years

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 270, 13 November 1937, Page 3 (Supplement)

Mother Still Hopes After Seven Years

MORE than seven years have passed since the strangest kidnapping of the decade the abduction of Mary Agnes Moroney, a chubby youngster -with blonde wavy hair and shy blue eyes.

Not a trace of the tiny Irish girl—now nine years old if she is still alive, as she probably is— has been found in all that time. All that is known of her kidnapper is that she was a beautiful young woman, not more than 23 years old, smartly dressed, whose manner and speech stamped her a woman of culture and background.

Mary Agnes Moroney was a. Chicago child. In May, 1930, she was a cheerful unit in the family of Michael and Mrs. Catherine Moroney, who then lived at 5200, Wentworth Avenue. There was another child, Anastasia, a.bout one year old. A third child was on the way. The Moroneys then, as now, were a struggling young couple, working hard to maintain a simple home. Moroney earned less than 15 dollars a. week;

The approach of the third child increased the problems of livelihood, and on the advice cf friends the Moroneys made an appeal for assistance. Mrs. Moroney, who was only 17 years old, stayed home and waited for responses while Michael went off to work.

On May 14, while Mrs. Moroney was scrubbing, and Mary Agnes, just two years old, was playing on the floor, there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Moroney opened the door. A smiling young woman, with sparkling, friendly eyes, faced her. She seemed to come from another world, she was so fresh, so kind, so clean looking. In her arms she held a basket of groceries and fresh vegetahles, the like of which had not often graced the Moroney table.

"My, my, but you're ambitious," the young woman said, noting the newlycleaned floor.

She set the groceries on the table, chucked Mary Agnes under the chin, and bent over Anastasia who was sleeping in the crib. Mary Agnes eyed her wondcringly, and her eyes danced with pleasure at seeing such a friendly, stranger.

"Mrs. Henderson, the social service worker, sent me over to see if I could help you," explained the caller. Mrs. Moroney rodded. She didn't know Mrs. Henderson, but she knew that this woman, not so much older than herself must have come in response to her appeal for help.

The two women chatted a few minutes and Mrs. Moroney unburdened herself of her worries and troubles. She told all about the family financial situation, which was most unhappy.

While Mrs. Moroney spoke, tlie young woman gazed at Mary Agnes frequently —sometimes lalmost longingly. Mrs. Moroney noticed this, but did not consider it strange. Mary Agnes was a pretty child; people often admired her. Once the woman patted the child's curly head, and Mary Agnes, always shy, cuddled np to her. This pleased the woman.

"Oh, I've always wanted a child like that!" she exclaimed impulsively. "I'd just love to take her with me. I'm planning to go to California —I'd so like to take her with me."

Mrs. Moroney smiled indulgently. Not for a million dollars could anyone take her little Mary Agnes so far away. The stranger finally rose to leave. She handed Mrs. Moroney two" dollars, urging her to use it for herself and 'her husband to go to a show. She promised to return the next day. Mrs. Moroney suddenly remembered she didn't even know the kind woman's name.

"I'm afraid I didn't get your name," Mrs.'Moroney said.

The woman hesitated—almost uneasily, then replied quickly. "Julia. Otis —.Mrs. Julia Otis." She waved good-bye, and was gone.

Mrs. Otis returned the next day, May, 15, 1930, at almost the same hour, and this time was laden with more luxurious gifts than mere food. She brought with her a layette—clothes, bonnets, shoes and cute, white articles for the expected baby. Mrs. Moloney was delighted.

Mary Agnes was playing on the floor, tearing out the pages of a large, thin book, "The Michigan Volunteers of '98," which belonged to Mrs. Moroney 'a uncle, a Spanish-American war veteran. She looked up as Mrs. Otis stepped into the room. Mrs. Otis stared at her for three or four seconds, so long that Mrs. Moronev noticed it.

Almost absent-mindedly. Mrs. Otis remarked that she was striving to place Mr. Moroney in more remunerative and steady employment. Then she turned to Mrs. Moroney. Her manner was scri6us.

"I wonder if you wouldn't let me take Mary Agnes to some neighbourhood store?" she asked. "I'd love to buy her some new clothes—she's so pretty.

The day outside was dismal. Skies were low.* Rain threatened. A spring chill was in the, air. It was not the kind of a day that Mrs. Moloney took her children out. Home was so much more cheerful. •

"You've done too much already," Mrs. Moroney protested.

"But that's quite all right," assured Mrs. Otis. '"You just tell me where the nearest store is. and I'll bring Mary Agnes back dressed up so that you won't recognise her."

Mrs. Moroney had no misgivings. The woman had been so generous; she seemed nice. She was beautiful. There appeared to be no risk. She consented. Mrs. Otis bent down to pick up Mary Agnes. Strangely, the youngster cried and even resisted. She didn't want to go-

A blubbery "mamma" left her trembling lips as she went out the door in the arms of the beautiful Mrs. Otis. Mrs. Moroney smiled a happy good-bye at them. She shut the door. Then she waited for. her little girl to come back.

She waited, and she waited, and ahe waited. M?.ry Agnes never came back. She is stili gone. So is the strange, beautiful Mrs. Otis.

Only two echoes of this strange abduction were heard, and those immediately after the kidnapping. Otherwise, the case from that May day in 1930 has been one tragic silence. On the day after the kidnapping Mrs. Moroney received a special delivery letter containing a small sum of money.

The letter had been written on the stationery of a downtown store and, according to clerks, was dictated by a well-drsssed young woman answering Mrs. Otis' description to an older woman. A child, resembling Maty Agnes, stood at the younger woman's, tide. The letter, unquestionably from Mrs. Otis, stated:

"Please don't be alarmed. I have taken your little girl to California with me. I have hired a special nurse to care for her. We'll be back in two months; by that time .jou will be on your feet again, and will be able to care for her. She didn't even cry a bit. She is outfitted like a princess. In the meantime, I'll help all I can to get you on your feet. Don't worry about her or anything else. When you get this letter* we'll be on our way already. As ever, Julia Otis."

♦+♦ ■ ♦ ■ By now there was no question in Mrs. Moroney's mind that her girl had been kidnapped, and police, who had been casually notified, were now called in in earnest. They demanded & minute

description of the mysterious Mrs. Otis, but all that the grief-stricken mother could say was that she was beautiful, about 22 or 23 years old, sft 2in tall, and weighing about 1251b. She wore a grey suit with blue trimmings, and a lace hat. She also wore a pearl necklace and a jewelled wristwatch. Her voice was soft, and her language that of one well educated.

Police, of course, searched all California bound trains and buses, but found not the slightest clue to the missing pair. Mrs. Otis had faded from sight; so had her tiny victim. All the police could now learn of the missing woman was that she had bought the layette for the expected Moroney baby at a neighbouring store.

A few days later Mrs, Moroney 'received a second letter, this one in different handwriting from the other. It was signed "Mrs. Alice Henderson,"' who described herself as a cousin of Mrs. Otis. She related that Mrs. Otis was a good young woman whom tragedy had twice struck within the year. Her baby had died. Then her husband had passed away. Mrs. Otis was now a nervous wreck, and wanted a child to mother. "Mis. Otis had pined for the companyof a child, due to losing her own, and that is whv she took your little girl, Mrs. Henderson explained. She promised that Mis. Otis would soon return Mary Ague*. Police never were able ' to find Mrs. Henderson. Seven vears have rassed eince . t,,w I strange kidnapping. Many questions i have been a»ked without answers 1* Marv alive? Probably. Is she with Mi*. Otis? Probably. Is she m a good home'/ Probably.

Trim Little Woman With Yellow Hair

Mrs. Moroney, a trim little woman, just "2.") years old, with yellow hair tightly brushed and combed, and with eyes as blue a.> her missing daughter's, now lives in a five-room flat on the tirst floor of a faded frame house at 5531 South Wells Street. Her home is plainly but neatly furnished. A brilliantly coloured parrot and several goldfish possess places of honour in the living room. They are the pets of the Moroney children —Anastasia, 8; Catherine, 7; and Michael, jun., 5. Catherine was the child on the way when Mary Agnes disappeared. 111-luck still has pursued the father. He was in the County Hospital recently.

"We want Mary Agnes back more than anything we can think of," said Mrs. Moroney sadly. "If the woman who took her away from us could only realise the suffering she has caused I know her conscience would make her bring Mary Agnes back.

"We don't even know that she's alive, but we believe she is. At times this uncertaintv is maddening, and then I feel that I'd rather see her in her grave than be always wondering where she is. ■ M