Memorial set for girl who disappeared 38 years ago
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Memorial set for girl who disappeared 38 years ago
Monday, September 13, 1999
THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
TACOMA -- The feeling hit on the day that 8-year-old Ann Marie Burr
vanished
from home.
"I had a feeling right then that I'd never see her again," said Beverly
Burr,
the girl's mother.
Now, more than 38 years later, she and Donald Burr have scheduled a
memorial
Mass for their firstborn child Saturday at St. Patrick's Catholic
Church.
The family waited to hold a memorial service because they were hoping
their
questions would have been answered.
"Each and every year," said Donald Burr, 71, "something came up to make
you
look into the possibility (of finding Ann)."
The nightmare began after the Burrs put their four children to bed Aug.
30,
1961.
In the middle of the night, Ann Marie Burr brought a sister, Mary, 3,
downstairs to their parents' room because the younger girl complained
her
broken arm, which was in a cast, was itching.
"I told Ann that Mary would be all right," Beverly Burr recalled. "The
cast
would be off soon. Just take her up to bed.
"And that's the last time I saw Ann."
About 5 or 5:30 a.m., Mary Burr, still tormented by itching, reappeared
at her
parents' bed, this time alone.
Returning the younger girl to her own bedroom, the mother noticed Ann
Burr was
gone.
Then she found the front door, which had been locked, was standing open.
A
window also was open. Outside, under the window, was a wicker bench that
had
been brought from the back yard.
More than 800 National Guard and Army troops and police officers combed
the
city.
Helicopters were deployed, and divers checked sewer lines and outlets
into
Commencement Bay.
Later, the Burrs endured fake ransom demands, unconfirmed sightings,
even an
impostor claiming to be their daughter, grown up and living in Puyallup.
To this day, authorities have yet to find a trace of Ann Marie Burr.
"I used to just pray for an answer and then I wondered, 'Do I want to
know if
she was beaten or had a horrible death?'" said Beverly Burr, 71.
The police case, open but inactive, is assigned to missing-persons
Detective L.
Lindberg.
Many still remember the disappearance, reported in newspapers around the
country.
"Every single time I give a talk in the Northwest, someone asks me about
Ann
Marie Burr," said crime writer Ann Rule of Des Moines.
For the Burrs and some investigators, the leading suspect is the late
serial
killer Ted Bundy, who grew up in Tacoma and at one time lived in the
same part
of town as the family. He was 14 at the time.
Bundy, who confessed to at least 35 other killings and is widely
believed to
have committed many more, repeatedly denied any involvement in the Burr
case
before he was executed in Florida on Jan. 24, 1989.
The connection was first drawn by Rule, who worked with Bundy as a
volunteer in
a Seattle crisis clinic and later wrote a book about him, "The Stranger
Beside
Me." To her, Bundy's denials rang false.
"Even for a serial killer, there's a stigma to killing a helpless young
girl,"
she said.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The following two news articles both appear courtesy of the 9/13/99
online
edition of The Tacoma news-Tribune newspaper:
Many think girl was Bundy's first victim
Cheryl Reid; The News Tribune
He was Tacoma's most notorious son, a vicious killer who raped, tortured
and
murdered women and girls in at least five states.
She was an 8-year-old girl who disappeared from her home in the night.
And for a time, Ted Bundy and Ann Marie Burr shared the same North End
neighborhood.
For some, such as retired Tacoma police detective Tony Zatkovich who
investigated the child's disappearance, it's just an eerie coincidence.
For others, such as crime writer Ann Rule, it points to Bundy as Burr's
kidnapper and killer.
Ann's parents think Bundy killed their daughter. Bundy was executed in
1989,
and his family could not be reached for this story.
Before he died, Bundy wrote several letters to the Burrs, responding to
questions about their daughter.
"I can certainly understand you doing everything you can to find your
daughter," Bundy stated in a June 8, 1986, letter. "Unfortunately you
have been
misled by what can only be called rumors about me.
"... First and foremost, I do not know what happened to your daughter
Ann
Marie. I had nothing to do with her disappearance.
"You said she disappeared Aug. 31, 1961. At the time I was a normal
14-year-old
boy. I did not wander the streets late at night. I did not steal cars. I
had
absolutely no desire to harm anyone. I was just an average kid. For your
sake,
you really must understand this."
Over the years, since Rule first made the connection in her 1980 book on
Bundy,
"The Stranger Beside Me," the facts about Bundy and Burr have blurred,
creating
an impression the case against Bundy is much stronger than it really is.
"The story gets better and better over the years with him and Ann
Marie," said
Bob Keppel, who investigated some of Bundy's Washington murders when he
was a
King County Police detective.
Keppel, who recently retired as an investigator with the Washington
state
attorney general's office, interviewed Bundy on death row in Florida.
Keppel
believes much that is written and said about Bundy's connection to Burr
is
imagined. But he also believes Bundy killed the child, whose body was
never
found.
Keppel asked Bundy about Burr at least twice and said Bundy gave "very
un-Bundylike answers."
"He gave a very short, abrupt, 'No I didn't do that one,' then wanted to
get on
to something else," Keppel said.
Keppel said Bundy had reasons for denying it. In an interview in 1988,
Bundy
had told Keppel he "never wanted to be regarded as a child-killer in
prison"
because other prisoners would hurt him.
"Neither did he want to be known as a killer with anything to do with
his
family," which included an uncle who lived near the Burrs.
"The Ann Marie Burr case flunked on both counts," Keppel said.
Rule, who knew Bundy before he became known as a murderer, agrees.
"Even for a serial killer there's a stigma to killing a helpless young
girl,"
she said.
In a letter responding to questions from the Burrs, Bundy claimed he
didn't
even know about Ann's disappearance when it happened. Given the
publicity at
the time, that's difficult to imagine, said Tacoma police detective L.
Lindberg, who also was a 14-year-old living in Tacoma then.
So how close were Ann Marie Burr and the young Ted Bundy?
Despite urban legends to the contrary, Bundy was not the Burr's paper
boy. In
1961, he lived with his mother and adopted father on Skyline Drive near
the
Tacoma Narrows Bridge and delivered newspapers near his home. The Burrs
lived
in the 3000 block of North 14th Street.
However, Bundy was a frequent visitor to the home of his uncle, John
Cowell,
the same home where he and his mother lived when they first moved to
Tacoma.
The two came to Tacoma in 1950 from Philadelphia, four years after
Bundy's
birth at Vermont home for unwed mothers.
Bundy's uncle's house was in the Burr neighborhood. Urban legend has it
Ann
took piano lessons in a house next door to Bundy's uncle.
Again, that's not quite true. She took piano lessons in a house in the
1800
block of North Puget Sound Avenue. Cowell lived 10 blocks away, in the
2800
block of Puget Sound Avenue.
Cowell was a music professor at the University of Puget Sound near the
Burr
house.
All of that points to the possibility that Bundy and Ann could have had
a
chance encounter or two.
The child's parents insist the two were not friends and dispute rumors
Ann had
a schoolgirl crush on Bundy.
One intriguing piece of evidence involves a jailhouse interview Bundy
had with
Ron Holmes, an associate professor at the University of Louisville's
School of
Justice Administration. In the 1986 interview, Bundy spoke
hypothetically of
the person who committed the crimes attributed to Bundy said the
hypothetical
killer could have started at the age of 14 or 15 by killing an 8- or
9-year-old
girl, Holmes reported.
Zatkovich said he has another suspect in mind as Ann's killer, but won't
name
him.
"Bundy absolutely had nothing to do with this," Zatkovich said. "He was
a real
murderer and one of the worst, but he didn't have anything to do with
this."
Zatkovich said he thinks the killer knew Ann and her family. He reasons
the
killer must have known the layout of the house and been able to coax the
little
girl out of the house.
Lindberg, the detective currently assigned to the Burr case, said police
are
pretty sure Bundy was the killer.
"I don't expect there to be any deathbed confessions or any substantial
leads
that will open up," Lindberg said. "But we'll still be open to them if
they
did."
The News Tribune
09/13/1999
-------------------------------------------------------------
Finally telling Ann goodbye
In 1961, a Tacoma girl disappeared from her bed, the first victim, some
say, of
Ted Bundy. A service this week will recognize that she is gone forever.
Cheryl Reid; The News Tribune
A driving rain broke the heat wave that had gripped Tacoma for almost a
month,
giving Don and Beverly Burr a peaceful night's sleep.
They woke to a nightmare that continues today, more than 38 years later.
On Aug. 31, 1961, their 8-year-old daughter, Ann Marie, disappeared from
their
North End home and entered into Tacoma's criminal folklore as possibly
the
first victim of serial killer Ted Bundy, who lived in Tacoma at the
time.
"I used to just pray for an answer and then I wondered, 'Do I want to
know if
she was beaten or had a horrible death?' " Beverly Burr said.
Though they never got answers to the questions that have gnawed at them
for
nearly four decades, the Burrs have decided to finally say goodbye to
their
daughter.
A memorial Mass for Ann Marie Burr will be recited at 11 a.m. Saturday
at St.
Patrick's Catholic Church. The memorial will be open to the public.
Why now, after so long?
"Each and every year," Donald Burr explained, "something came up to make
you
look into the possibility (of finding Ann)."
Fake ransom demands, mysterious sightings and even an impostor claiming
to be
Ann all grown up and living in Puyallup all kept the Burrs from
acknowledging
what Beverly Burr knew from the moment she realized Ann was gone.
"I had a feeling right then," she recalled, "that I'd never see her
again."
Not that the family or community gave up easily.
More than 800 National Guardsmen, Army troops and police officers combed
the
city looking for Ann. They used helicopters to search from above and
divers to
explore sewer lines and the outlets into Commencement Bay.
And 38 years later, the case remains open but inactive, assigned to
missing
persons detective L. Lindberg.
The story of the child's disappearance appeared in newspapers across the
country. News Tribune editors picked it as the top story of the year.
Readers
nine years later picked it as one of the top stories of the decade.
Even today, people remember Ann Marie Burr and can't but wonder what
happened
to the cheerful little towhead.
"Every single time I give a talk in the Northwest, someone asks me about
Ann
Marie Burr," said Des Moines crime writer Ann Rule, who worked with
Bundy as a
volunteer in a Seattle crisis clinic and wrote a book about him after
his
crimes came to light.
Bundy was executed Jan. 24, 1989, in Florida for the murders of a
12-year-old
girl and two young women who attended Florida State University at
Tallahassee.
He confessed to at least 35 other slayings but is widely believed to
have
committed many more. Bundy is suspected of attacks on seven women in
Washington, mostly in the Puget Sound area, during the early 1970s.
As Bundy's murderous habits surfaced, people began wondering about the
little
girl who vanished in his hometown in 1961.
Without a trace
Ann spent that summer playing with friends in her neighborhood in the
3000
block of North 14th Street and preparing for third grade at Grant
Elementary
School.
"She was kind of the leader in the neighborhood," her mother recalls.
The Burrs had moved into the two-story brick home five years earlier.
Donald
Burr worked as a warehouseman at Camp Murray; Beverly kept more than
busy with
the four children.
Ann loved visiting with her grandmother, Marie Leach.
The little girl had taken her first Holy Communion in May. A member of
the
local Blue Birds troop, she loved crafts. Her last project was a little
wastebasket with butterflies and stars.
She had taken piano lessons for two years and showed such promise as an
artist
that teachers urged her parents to get her formal art training.
"We were just always so proud," Beverly Burr said.
On Aug. 30, 1961, Ann was playing at a neighbor's house when Beverly
Burr
called her for dinner. Later, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except
perhaps the unsettled weather, as the Burrs prepared their four children
- Ann,
8; Julie, 7; Greg, 5; and Mary, 3 - for bed.
Ann hadn't wanted to stay home that night, asking instead to spend the
night
with the friend she had been playing with earlier. But with school
starting in
a few days, Ann's mother thought it best that she stay home and get into
a
routine.
Though the children's bedrooms were upstairs, Greg and Julie trotted
downstairs
to the basement. The four children took turns sleeping there, a treat
because
their playroom also was there.
Ann and Mary went to their bedrooms about 8:30 or 9 p.m. A couple of
hours
later their parents went to sleep in their ground-floor bedroom.
The family dog, a cocker spaniel named Barney, was locked in a pantry
area
between the kitchen and the staircase leading to the basement.
During the night, Ann brought Mary downstairs to their parents' bedside.
Mary
had broken her arm a few weeks earlier in a playground accident and it
was
itching.
"I told Ann that Mary would be all right," Beverly Burr recalled. "The
cast
would be off soon. Just take her up to bed.
"And that's the last time I saw Ann."
In retrospect, the stormy weather that brought relief from the heat
appears
part of some sinister plan, the Burrs say.
"It almost seemed like someone was waiting for that weather because you
couldn't hear anything," Beverly Burr said.
And the Burrs weren't likely to wake easily.
"When you have four children under 9 years old you're pretty well tired
at the
end of the day, and I slept good and hard," Beverly Burr said.
Barney barked off and on during the night. "But he'd been doing that for
a
couple of weeks," Beverly Burr said.
About 5 or 5:30 a.m., Beverly got up when Mary, still tormented by her
cast,
appeared again at her parents' bed, this time alone.
Beverly Burr walked the 3-year-old back to her own bedroom, glancing in
across
the hall to Ann's bedroom.
The child was gone.
Downstairs, the front door, which had been locked, was standing open. A
window,
which hadn't been latched, also was open. Outside, under the window, was
a
wicker bench that had been brought from the back yard.
Beverly Burr called police right away.
The investigation begins
The rain that might have masked the sound of an intruder also helped
cover any
tracks. Police brought in bloodhounds, but the wind and rain had erased
Ann's
scent.
The detectives assigned to the case included two of the city's most
celebrated,
Tony Zatkovich and Ted Strand. They were determined to solve the Burr
disappearance, and the case came to haunt them.
"There were no clues, just a couple of red threads near that bench,"
Beverly
Burr said.
That and a faint shoe print in the mud outside the open window.
Zatkovich, now 87, said police went to every shoe store in Tacoma to
find a
match for the tread. The police file indicates it was a U.S. Keds
sneaker, a
men's size 6 or 7.
Detectives decided a small man or a boy of about 13 had left the print.
Zatkovich said that once police realized Ann was really gone and not
just
hiding or at a friend's house, they ordered construction crews at nearby
University of Puget Sound to stop work.
The crews were pouring foundations around that time. Some of the holes
were
"deep enough that even in daylight, if someone was laying at the bottom,
they
might not even be noticed because there was so much shadow," Lindberg
said.
Suspects and crackpots
Police immediately began questioning and giving polygraph tests to
friends,
relatives, neighbors and known sex offenders.
The police file contains lists of dozens of people who submitted to the
tests,
including the Burrs themselves.
Ann's grandmother posted a $1,000 reward which grew to $5,000, but no
one ever
came up with information to claim it. The money was eventually returned
to
donors.
The files include dozens of reports about child molesters investigators
interviewed, including one man found alone in his home with a young
neighbor
child.
The investigation began to focus on young men, in part because of the
small
size of the shoe print and because someone tall would not have needed
the
wicker bench to climb in the front window, Zatkovich said.
"Some of them turned out to be very prominent people since," the retired
detective said. "They were young and we really looked into their
backgrounds.
... In fact, I don't think we could get away with it now days."
At 14, Ted Bundy fit the profile of the person police were looking for -
he was
young, small and had an early-morning paper route - just as hundreds of
others
did.
Zatkovich doesn't remember interviewing Bundy, but investigators
questioned
almost every morning paper boy to find out what they might have seen.
But
because Bundy didn't live in the Burrs' neighborhood and didn't have a
criminal
record, he wasn't a suspect until years later, when his killings came to
light.
Zatkovich is convinced Bundy did not kill Ann. He believes the killer
knew her
and knew the layout of the house, something Bundy did not.
"This was not a stranger who would walk into a house with people
sleeping and
take someone out," the detective said.
Still, the Burrs still think Bundy most likely was the murderer, in part
because of a hazy recollection from the day of Ann's disappearance.
As he searched for his daughter that morning, Donald Burr recalls
walking past
the UPS construction site. A young man was standing there, using his
foot to
stir rainwater that had collected in an excavation pit.
Burr yelled at the young man, who looked up at him. Burr didn't know
Bundy then
and couldn't have recognized him. When he remembers the scene now, it's
Bundy's
face that looks back at him.
But he says he can't be sure his subconscious hasn't superimposed the
killer's
face onto the memory.
The Burrs also got a telephoned ransom request.
Don Burr agreed to meet the man near Wright Park, but Zatkovich and
Strand soon
decided it was a hoax to get $200 from the Burrs. The man was arrested
and
eventually convicted of disorderly conduct.
A prisoner in the Midwest tried to convince detectives that he knew the
kidnapper. But after weeks of research and interviews, detectives
concluded the
prisoner was just trying to bargain down his prison sentence and knew
nothing
of the Burr case.
The Burrs weren't wealthy, but they weren't the only Donald Burrs in
Tacoma. A
more well-to-do Donald Burr had a daughter Ann's age and an ex-wife in
Europe
who wanted custody of the girl. Police checked into the possibility the
woman
had used someone to get her daughter and the kidnapper had picked up the
wrong
Burr child. That theory, like so many others, eventually was disproved.
Crackpots and psychics also came from all around. But over the years,
calls
slowly stopped coming. Zatkovich and Strand eventually retired. Strand
died in
1997.
"The only file I ever took with me when I left the department was the
Ann Burr
file," Zatkovich said of the case that haunted him.
He later turned it over to police when they lost their own copy.
The Burr family moves on
When they weren't nervously waiting for a call from Ann or her
kidnapper, the
Burrs busied themselves by getting out the word.
"We put reward posters everywhere and I got a list of newspapers in
every city
in the United States and I sent the reward poster to all of them,"
Beverly Burr
said. "Barbara Walters had something on her program about Ann."
Don Burr, who worked for the National Guard, searched with Guardsmen.
But with three young children still to raise, the Burrs knew they had to
keep
going. Still, it didn't feel right to have three little ones under foot
instead
of four.
About a year after Ann disappeared, the Burrs adopted a baby girl,
Laura. They
tried to move on as a family, but they always looked for Ann.
"When we went camping or hiking after that, we were always looking,"
Beverly
Burr said. "I don't know what we were looking for, a grave or what, but
we were
looking."
After six years of waiting for Ann to return, they moved to another
house.
"It was hard to move but it got so that I hated that house," Beverly
Burr said.
They kept their old telephone number, in case Ann might call.
Four or five years ago, they thought they might have gotten their wish.
A psychiatrist telephoned to tell them one of his patients could be Ann.
The
Puyallup woman was the right age and seemed to remember things that made
it
seem possible.
She said she remembered church bells, which could be at the Burr house.
She
also recalled a canary. The Burr family had such a bird as a pet while
Ann was
growing up.
Plus, her coloring and height was about right.
"There was enough of a resemblance that you couldn't rule it out,"
detective
Lindberg said.
But police found school photos of the woman before and after Ann's
disappearance. Still, the woman was insistent and seemed to want to be
part of
the Burr family. She brought her children over for apple pie.
So the Burrs took her to meet Ann's grandmother. The grandmother, who
had been
particularly close to Ann, said she was certain the woman was an
impostor.
But it wasn't until two years passed and the Burrs paid for DNA tests
that they
knew she wasn't Ann. The woman still believed her story and contended
the tests
had been falsified, Beverly Burr said.
Bundy denied even knowing Ann. But despite the denials, the Burrs
believe, as
so many do, that Bundy started his horrific killing spree with their
little
girl.
And they still call police whenever they hear of skeletal remains being
found,
"to remind them about Ann," Beverly Burr said.
After 38 years, she worries the younger officers won't think to check to
see
whether the bones are of her daughter.
A memorial
Though they haven't seen her in 38 years, the Burrs have never really
said
goodbye to Ann. With Saturday's service and the dedication of a tree in
Ann's
name, they will.
"I still can't say that she's dead but I just feel like we've got to do
something to remember her, because we're not going to be here too much
longer,"
said Beverly Burr, 71.
"It's something that says she was here," added Don Burr, 73.
They hope to remember the Ann they knew before she became a part of
folklore.
They will remember the athletic, artistic and spiritual child who was
with them
for eight years.
"She was a precious child," Beverly Burr said.
Friends and family will talk about the little girl they knew and the
void they
feel in her absence. A friend will sing and play the last piano piece, a
religious hymn, that Ann had worked on.
Afterward, they will comfort the family.
Ann's sister, Julie Burr, now 45 and a mother of three, said the
memorial will
mean something else.
"I want to celebrate the fact that we stayed together as a family, even
through
tragedy," she said.
Donald Burr said he hopes the memorial will give young parents something
to
ponder.
"Be sure to give your children hugs and say good night to them," he
said,
unable to hold off tears. "Because you never know."
SIDEBAR
* The memorial service for Ann Marie Burr will be 11 a.m. Saturday at
St.
Patrick's Catholic Church, 1001 N. J St., Tacoma. It will be open to the
public.
The News Tribune
09/13/1999
Roxanne
> Despite urban legends to the contrary, Bundy was not the Burr's paper
> boy. In 1961, he lived with his mother and adopted father on Skyline
Drive near
> the Tacoma Narrows Bridge and delivered newspapers near his home. The
Burrs
> lived in the 3000 block of North 14th Street.
>
> However, Bundy was a frequent visitor to the home of his uncle, John
> Cowell, the same home where he and his mother lived when they first moved
to
> Tacoma. The two came to Tacoma in 1950 from Philadelphia, four years
after
> Bundy's birth at Vermont home for unwed mothers.
>
> Bundy's uncle's house was in the Burr neighborhood. Urban legend has it
> Ann took piano lessons in a house next door to Bundy's uncle.
>
> Again, that's not quite true. She took piano lessons in a house in the
> 1800 block of North Puget Sound Avenue. Cowell lived 10 blocks away, in
the
> 2800 block of Puget Sound Avenue.
>
> Cowell was a music professor at the University of Puget Sound near the
Burr house.
>
> All of that points to the possibility that Bundy and Ann could have had
> a chance encounter or two.
When did Bundy's mother go to work for the University of Puget Sound as a
secretary? Does anyone know if she was working there in 1961?
Nora Hiatt
weekend. It was to be our first outing. When we were returning home,
we heard the news broadcasts about the child. I remember it like
yesterday. I have thought of that child, just one year older than me
often over the years.
I remember the posters her parents had put up everywhere. A smiling
child with her blue bird cap. I think of Ann Marie and that picture
comes to mind. As I read the article in the Sunday newspaper, I was
moved to tears.
Nora
KaEfEr
KaEfEr
Repo...@home.net wrote in <37DD71DC...@home.net>: