No Trace of Aitch

I don’t believe the young boy was alone when he ran off. An h is missing, too. Despite the declaration of a certain ABC series that ran from 1977 to 1981, eight is not enough in this case.

The widespread police search alluded to in the article grew exponentially once I filed a Missing Letter Report, in which I described h as a skinny fellow, about 10 points tall, with a big hump on his right side. I let officers know that he sometimes goes by aitch. All over town I posted his picture, the one that shows him standing next to his pal H. It’s a popular photo. So much so, in fact, that it’s up in elementary school classrooms all over the country.

Next I provided h’s last known position, or LKP. Its LKP was BTH, or before the hyphen. That is where the search originated. And what a slow, methodical search it was. An army of civilian volunteers combed the ground. Search-and-rescue dogs attempted to detect h’s scent, which I described as a cross between honeysuckle and hyacinth. Helicopters equipped with thermal imaging cameras assisted the ground units.

You name it, we did it. We searched high and low. Did we find him? Sigh ... and no. The whereabouts of the eighth letter — and the eighth-grader — remain a mystery. Every resource imaginable has been deployed. I’m not sure what more I can do. I feel useless, like thermal underwear in Miami.

What have I overlooked?

I do have one last idea. A friend — let’s call him Morse (his code name) — suggested it. I may be grasping at straws, but here goes nothing...

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Are you out there, • • • •? Can you hear me? Please come home!