Johnny Gosch, September 5, 1982

44 years ago today, Johnny Gosch vanished.

On the Sunday morning of September 5, 1982, Labor Day Weekend, Johnny Gosch went missing.

He was 12 years old. Just a kid.

He left his West Des Moines home in the early hours, as he did every Sunday morning to deliver newspapers. He was a paper boy for the Des Moines Register.

His parents, John and Noreen Gosch received calls from some of Johnny’s customers saying they hadn’t received their paper. Johnny’s dad went out to see what was going on. He found his son’s wagon full of Sunday papers but did not find his son.

His parents contacted the West Des Moines police department informing them that their son was missing. At the time, it was police policy that 72 hours must pass before a person could be considered missing.

(This policy has changed since this time, and in part because of the urgency felt by John and Noreen Gosch and people like Ken Wooden)

But Johnny was missing.

His disappearance was huge.

The entire state of Iowa was gutted.

A young boy vanished.

There was disbelief. 

Anger. 

Grief. 

So much anger and grief and disbelief.

This didn't make sense. It was hard to make sense out of this.

This sort of thing just didn't happen.

Kids didn’t just disappear.

But they do.

I was 19 years old at the time. I was a journalism student at Iowa State University. And I was also employed by the Ames Tribune as a photographer and writer.

Johnny’s disappearance truly affected me.

I was only 5 years older than Johnny.

Seven years earlier, I was a 12 year-old boy delivering the Des Moines Register Sunday paper on my paper route in Story City, Iowa, just 43 miles north of where Johnny had been abducted.

Johnny Gosch, 1982. 12 years old.

There were search parties canvassing the area where Johnny had gone missing.

His photo was everywhere.

His story was being told on every TV news program every day.

Days passed.

We all hoped Johnny would be found.

Weeks passed.

But there was no new news about his whereabouts.

Stories came out that other paperboys had seen strangers talking to and following Johnny that Sunday morning.

There were stories about Johnny running away.
There were stories about Johnny being kidnapped.

I felt sick to my stomach about the whole thing.

Nothing felt right in the world.

A few months later the head of the journalism department at Iowa State University had pulled me out of class and told me that a very important journalist was giving a talk in Des Moines that day and invited me to skip school and join him to meet this journalist.

The journalists name was Ken Wooden. He was a Pulitzer-nominated author who had just finished a book, The Children of Jonestown, a chilling story about the horrific tales of Jim Jones and the mass suicide of hundreds of people years before. 

Ken was an advocate for children’s rights and had traveled to Jonestown to investigate what had happened and more importantly how the system had allowed so many children to be taken by Jones as their guardian.

A small number of journalists and people from the general public went to hear Ken talk that day. He focused on how we need stronger laws regarding children, saying that missing cars had more rights than missing children. Ken was a captivating speaker. He had a raspy, high pitched voice, and spoke from his gut advocating for children. 

After his talk, Ken met with my journalism teacher who then introduced me to Mr. Wooden, telling him that I was an up-and-coming journalist. 

After a few minutes, Ken told me that he was meeting with the parents of Johnny Gosch for a dinner and invited me to join him.

I looked to my journalism teacher who encouraged me to follow this opportunity.

Within an hour, I was sitting in a restaurant at a table with Ken Wooden and Noreen and John Gosch. 

Noreen and John Gosch

I couldn’t believe what was happening. 

When I woke up that morning I had no idea I would be skipping class to meet some world-renowned journalist named Ken Wooden and I certainly never imagined I would be invited to a private meeting John and Noreen Gosch.

My first impression of Gosches was their deep, deep, emotional pain. There was such a painful, mournful energy about them. 

The only thing I had to compare this visceral pain to was when my friend Eddie Prusman had died when I was in 6th grade. Seeing and feeling the pain in Eddie’s parents faces was very similar to the pain I saw in the Gosches faces.

Their whole beings exuded grief.

They talked with Ken for an hour or so about the entire case. I just sat there taking in all in. It was so surreal that I was just inches away from John and Noreen Gosch. 

During their meeting, Ken Wooden told the Gosches that I wrote for the Ames Tribune.

Noreen turned to me and told me I to come to their home to interview them.

I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. Didn’t she know I was just a 19 year old kid from Story City?

It is true that I wrote for the Ames tribune, but my articles were mostly public interest stories about people retiring from jobs, kids learning how to skateboard, and sports articles about football games and wrestling.

Now I was scheduling an interview with John and Noreen Gosch.

What??

As we were saying our goodbyes, I was making plans to meet with the Gosches at their home later that week.

Ken Wooden said his goodbyes to me, telling me he expected to hear big things about me as my career transpired.

He was off to the East Coast later that day to be interviewed on the Today Show later that week.

Days later, I drove my ’68 Mustang to the home of Johnny Gosch. I parked my car in the driveway and put my Cannon AE-1, pen and notebook in my bag. I rang the doorbell.

I was invited in by both Noreen and John Gosch. It was like walking into a funeral home. Their home was so quiet. So still. 

They told me it had been so good to meet me the day they met with Ken Wooden.

We sat in their living room and I interviewed them.   I cannot imagine that I came across as anything but a complete amateur. 

I was a teenager.

A teenager…

The Gosches did most of the talking. They told me every detail of the case. They told me about the morning Johnny had gone missing. 

They told me about the various aspects of the case. They told me how empty their house was. They told me how empty their life was.

They told me everything.

They were so calm and matter-of-fact. 

Tears filling their eyes as they talked about their Johnny.

Their beautiful boy.

Johnny Gosch, 12 years old

They told me how important it was to keep Johnny's name and face in the media.

I took their photos as they sat on the couch across from me.

And then Noreen me if I wanted to see Johnny’s bedroom. 

It hadn't occurred to me that I would be seeing Johnny’s bedroom.

I wasn’t sure what to say, but I nodded. 

I climbed the steps to the second floor and Mr. and Mrs. Gosch lead me down the hall, to the door of Johnny’s room. 

Mr. Gosch opened the door. 

It almost felt like Johnny was going to be in the room as the door opened. 

I went in. Respectfully.

There was his bed.

His dresser.

His clothes.

All his stuff.

All the things a 12 year old boy would have. 

His room was just as he had left it the day he was abducted.

I cannot find the words to describe what it was like standing in his little bedroom. 

It felt like a sacred place. 

And it was a special honor to be there.

I was careful not to touch anything.

I just looked around.

I don’t think I said a word.

Noreen talked about Johnny.

Talked about his things.

I cannot imagine the pain John and Noreen Gosch felt at that time.

Their little boy was gone.

I took a few photos of Noreen as she told me about Johnny’s room.

Honestly, I felt like breaking down and crying.

Soon, I was walking back down the stairs and into their living room. They told me if I needed to ask them anything else, please give them a call. They thanked me for the interview and looked forward to my article. 

I don’t remember driving home that night.

I started writing the piece about that night. I wrote about my meeting with Ken Wooden. I wrote that he introduced me to the Gosches. I wrote about my experience being in their home, in their presence. I wrote about what it was like to be in Johnny’s room. I wrote about how horribly sad the whole thing was.

I developed the photos.

I took my piece to my editor, Jim.

He read it.

Jim was a kind man and liked me a lot.

But Jim told me he could not publish my piece.

It was too emotional.

It wasn’t a news article, but was another one of my public interest stories. 

He was nice about it, but said that he would not publish my piece on the Gosches.

I didn’t really understand why my piece couldn’t be published, but I did know that the whole thing felt like it was way out of my league. 

Jim told me to stick to writing my public interest stories and taking photos.

I was sort of gutted by the whole situation. It had been so surreal.

I questioned if I had what was needed to be a journalist. A real journalist.

I didn’t know if I should tell the Gosches or not.

I didn’t call them.

I did meet with them though, about a year later.  I had moved to Chicago in the late summer the year after I met the Gosches.

I heard that Ken Wooden, Noreen and John Gosch were going to be on Oprah’s show talking about the case.

I got in touch with Ken and he invited me to go back stage with him.

And so there I was, now 20, meeting Ken, meeting Oprah and meeting up with John and Noreen Gosch again.

Noreen told me she was disappointed that my article was never published. I told her I tried. I told her the paper turned down my article. I must have looked pitiful. I did feel like I had let her down. I felt like I let Johnny down.

Johnny Gosch was one of the first kids to be placed on milk cartons, bringing attention to missing children.

I never talked with the Gosches again. I did talk with Ken a few times over the years. The last time I spoke with him was prior to his death in 2023. He was nearly completely deaf at that time, but remembered the day we met the Goshes. Ken was a righteous soul who cared deeply about the safety of children. 

Ken went on to be one of the country’s biggest advocates for missing children. He was often a guest on the Good Morning America shows when talking about child safety and the law.

I have kept up with the story of Johnny Gosch and his parents over the years.

Johnny was never found.

My heart goes out to them all.

I have so much compassion and admiration for Noreen Gosch. Mothers should not have their children taken from them.

Many people formed strong opinions about Noreen.

It angered me to see how people mocked her.

I see her as a warrior.

An advocate.

A strong voice for her Johnny.

She was the only voice for Johnny after a while.

I cannot begin to imagine what she and John have gone through in their lives.

It was as if some people got tired of Noreen speaking out about her son.

People’s opinions about Noreen became more of a story than the continued disappearance of her son.

It angered me how people treated her.

Although my article was never published, I am deeply honored that I was invited into the privacy of their home and granted time with them. I did my best to do right by them.

So tonight, 44 years to the day Johnny Gosch was abducted, I sit here thinking about that time. I still feeling so horrible inside.

What a horrible, horrible thing that took place.

And I’m remembering being 19 and learning about evils in this world from those who experienced it.

God bless Johnny.

God bless his parents, John and Noreen.

Hold onto your babies.