Dark Downeast - The Disappearance of Kurt Newton (Maine)

Episode Date: May 17, 2021

MAINE MISSING PERSON, 1975: It was Labor Day weekend 1975 at Natanis Point Campground in Chain of Ponds Township, and the Newton family was celebrating the end of another classic New England summer. For the first few hours, it seemed as though all was right—the biggest concern of the day being who would catch the first trout.But that picture-perfect morning, set in the deep, green, remote North Woods of Maine would soon become two parents’ worst nightmare and the beginning of a 46-year-old North Woods mystery that would lead to one of the largest searches in state history and to this day baffle even Maine’s most seasoned wardens.This is the disappearance of Kurt Newton. View source material and photos for this episode at darkdowneast.com/kurtnewtonFollow @darkdowneast on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTokTo suggest a case visit darkdowneast.com/submit-caseDark Downeast is an audiochuck and Kylie Media production hosted by Kylie Low.

Do your parents know where you are? She asked the small, toe-headed boy. He was adorable, with a toddler's chubby cheeks and determined brow. He zoomed by with his blue suede sneakers fiercely pedaling. No time to answer. He was on a mission. Dad was off to gather firewood for the campsite and would surely need his help. The shiny red tricycle sped by 12-year-old Llewellyn Hansen. Her eyes followed the boy up the dirt road, and with a shrug and quiet laugh to herself, she made her way back up to camp. It was just past 10.30 that morning. The campground was stirring with families cleaning up after pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Round two of coffee was just coming to a brew over the fire.

And the day's sun was just starting to burn off the heavy mist that lay over the two nearby ponds. Though it was Labor Day weekend in 1975, Natanas Point Campground, small and remote, past Rangeley, and set just five miles beneath the Quebec border in Chain of Ponds Township, is maybe just an hour too far for most Portlanders. The 58 campsites were reserved mostly by families and friends, a good many from the area, all celebrating the end of another classic New England summer. And for the first few hours, it seemed as though all was right. The biggest concern of the day was who would catch the first trout. But that picture-perfect morning, set in the deep, green, remote north woods of Maine,

would soon become two parents' worst nightmare. And 12-year-old Llewellyn would replay her encounter with that little boy on the shiny red tricycle pedaling by on the dirt road that morning, over and over again. I'm Kylie Lowe, and together with researcher and writer Olivia Gunn, we're looking into the 46-year-old Northwoods mystery that would lead to one of the largest searches in state history and to this day, baffle even Maine's most seasoned wardens. This is the disappearance of four-year-old Kurt Newton on Dark Down East. down east.

Chain of Ponds Township, located in Franklin County, can be found just over 40 minutes beyond both Rangeley and Carrabasset Valley. The area, well known for its lakes and skiable peaks, is prime territory for northeast adventurers. As of the 2010 census, Franklin County is the second least populated county in the state, Piscataquist being the first. Simply put, it's a place where, if you're not a Massachusetts skier there for a weekend at Saddleback or Sugarloaf, or a kayaker paddling the ponds, you're a local, and running into an aunt or two while getting groceries is pretty common. While not locals, the Newton family lived just two hours south in Manchester, Maine, where Ron Newton had grown up.

Jill Newton was also a Mainer and grew up just a few miles away from Manchester in the town of Wayne. So they weren't out of place while visiting Chain of Ponds. The family, Ron, Jill, and their children, Kimberly and Kurt, were avid campers. That summer, they'd just bought a used pop-up camper, and Labor Day weekend was their first time out with it. Yankee magazine described the weekend in a 1979 story, quote, they gathered wood along an abandoned logging road nearly a mile from their campsite. On Saturday, their friends arrived, and Kimberly raced her bicycle through mud puddles

while Kurt furiously pedaled his big wheel tricycle after her, trying to keep up. It was the end of a summer, and there were huge meals and laughter and quiet, chilly nights by a roaring fire. To Jill Newton, things felt just right, unquote. The couple had been married for eight years. Kimberly, who was six years old in 1975, was their first child, shortly followed by Kurt just two years later. The family was picturesque. Ron and Jill, young and in love, with two blonde, smiling kiddos following after them.

That Sunday morning, August 31st, 1975, it started as any camp morning starts. A chilly rush from the camper to get warm, that first cup of strong coffee in a favorite-chipped mug, and breakfast by the fire. Kurt was dressed by his dad in a red shirt, navy sweatshirt, and black corduroy pants, and was already itching to get back on his big wheel. Reports of the next moments vary. According to Yankee magazine, Kimberly was playing a game herself as Kurt pedaled around on his tricycle close by when Jill and a friend from a neighboring site headed to the bathhouse just 50 yards away to wash off some muddy shoes. Ron, confident that the kids would stay put, got into his Ford Bronco and headed up the road towards the camp dump to get more firewood. That same story notes about another friend cleaning up from the morning in her trailer, hearing a child call after his dad.

It's assumed that the call was from Kurt hearing a child call after his dad. It's assumed that the call was from Kurt, who took off after his dad. Ten years later, in a 1985 Bangor Daily News story, it's reported that Kimberly, Kurt, and other kids from the camp group were riding bikes around the loop of campsites when Kurt became disoriented and perhaps peddled in the wrong direction. Regardless of just what was happening in the moments before he rode off, those conflicting 10 minutes changed the lives of the Newton family forever. Heading down the gravel road adjacent to the campsite, Llewellyn Hansen passed Kurt. They were just about a quarter of a mile from

the Newtons' campsite. When he didn't respond to her asking if his parents knew where he was, Llewellyn, as any 12-year-old would do, went about her own business. Little did she know that at the time, she would become the last person to ever see Kurt Newton again. Jack Hansen, Llewellyn's father, was the one who found the tricycle. It had been placed carefully off the side of the road just before a steep rise leading to the dump, as if left by a little boy who, quote, has been told never to leave his things on the road, unquote. Thinking it was left to be tossed out,

Jack walked it up over the hill and threw it on the trash pile that had accumulated before the rest of the road, which was all overgrown with wild raspberries and blocked by fallen trees. Back at the campsite, Jill and her friend had returned from the bathhouse to find Kurt missing from the group of kids. Describing the moment later, she said, We'd been gone at most 10 minutes. We saw no Kurt and no tricycle, so we started walking around asking campers if they'd seen a blonde boy on a big wheel tricycle. I began to think he must have just gone with the men to get firewood, but then they rounded the corner and no Kurt. We met Jack, and he told us that he had found a trike at the dump. We raced to the dump, and there was Kurt's big wheeler. But no one in sight, not a sound to

be heard. Panic-stricken, Jill cried, my God, someone's taken him. At the time, it seemed hard for both Jill and Ron to believe that Kurt would willingly go into the woods alone. He was known to be painfully shy and very attached to his mom, rarely leaving her sight. Once, when he was asked why he wouldn't play with Kimberly in the woods abutting the family's home, always staying within a few feet from the yard's edge, Kurt responded, Mama, there's monsters in there. It made no sense to either parent that this meek little boy would march right into the thick surrounding woods in search of his dad, and without anyone hearing or seeing him. A group of neighboring campers and friends, including Jack Hansen and fellow camper John Carter, who was on a bike, began searching the campground.

According to the Maine Warden's report, Forest Warden Thomas Lamont received a call from the Natanis campground owner Lloyd Davidson around 12.20 that day. The warden told Davidson to notify Canadian Customs, with the border just being five miles north of the campground. And then he called his headquarters and game warden Bryce Clayton to inform them of the situation. He directed Clayton to call the state police. Lamont got into his car and headed north from Eustis, a 20-minute drive. When warden Lamont arrived at Natanas Point,

he was briefed by the campground searchers. John Hansen described finding the tricycle. At the time, he didn't realize that a child was missing, and so when he encountered the tricycle on the side of the road, it just seemed insignificant. Of course, once the report of the missing child made its rounds, he brought the family to the little three-wheeled bike and helped search the dump before authorities arrived. After the arrival of Forest Warden Lamont, Hansen, and a man he identified as Mr. Walker, went up to the old woods road past the dump looking for signs of the boy. Hansen saw a freshly broken twig on a blowdown just above the dump, but saw no human tracks. He went down the road at least two miles to some new lumbering operations and came back to the dump via the Otter Pond Road. He looked for tracks all the way and found none. In all, Hansen

and Walker searched a circle of about five miles around the dump within the first hour of Kurt's disappearance and found nothing. By 4 o'clock that afternoon, multiple Maine State wardens, including veteran warden inspector Dwayne Lewis, were on the scene, and a Cessna 185 airplane was encircling the area. After interviewing the Newtons, Hansen, and the campers involved in the initial search, Lewis directed Warden Lamont to lead 12 men at six feet apart to perform an organized search of the dump area. Five others were sent to walk

Robinson Brook down to the lake and two men on either side of the running water. Around 5 p.m., the Cessna returned to Greenville and an FG helicopter was brought in to replace it. It was flown over the area above a total of 28 searchers made up by Maine State wardens, state police, and campers who swept the area until it was too dark to see. The first night's search for Kurt ended officially around 11 p.m., with temperatures dropping to 26 degrees. Ron Newton, Wardens Lewis, and Clayton remained in the woods, calling out to Kurt and listening for any inkling of a clue. A twig snap, hurried steps, a cry. By midnight, Warden Lewis convinced Ron that he needed to get back to camp and prepare for the next day. But before the desperate father would leave, he made the warden promise to call out to Kurt every hour.

At 4 a.m., before the sun could even think of rising, the search team was preparing to head back out with a bloodhound leading the way. The crew of searchers, both civilian and individuals with formal agencies, grew quickly. I spoke with a man named Doug, whose daughter-in-law is a Dark Down East listener. At the time of Kurt Newton's disappearance, Doug was a firefighter. He told me in many small towns it seems everyone becomes a firefighter. He is a lifelong member of the Wayne, Maine community, not far from where the Newtons lived in Manchester, and he was a classmate to Kurt's mom, Jill. When he and many other Wayne locals heard what was happening in Chain of Ponds, that the Newton boy was missing, they didn't hesitate to join the efforts to locate Kurt.

Doug described the search efforts as impressive, organized, and formal. There was tremendous confidence that no stone would be left unturned. Doug wrote in his email to me, The gridlines were marked with a certain color tape. Searchers were lined up 12 to 20 in a row, about 6 feet apart, and proceeded across the grid with the leader on the grid line. The tail end person tied a different color tape so the adjacent sweepers could mark their search from that. If anyone in the line saw something needing a further look, the line halted in place. This was arduous work, as the terrain was particularly difficult in many places,

with lots of spots and holes not visible, unquote. The Maine woods can be unforgiving. Some areas, the pine needle boughs are so thick that it feels several degrees cooler, many shades darker, and intensely quiet. You become ever so aware of your own movement and breath. The echoes of paper-thin leaves crunching and dry fallen twigs snapping beneath you becomes the soundtrack to your excursion. Doug said there were areas of dense growth and swampiness,

rock outcroppings and holes underneath slabbed rock. There were some trails and roads, but it was the forest was full of colors. Not the natural ones you'd expect from Maine's wilderness, but the bright tape markings in every color, a testament to the number of search patterns made, Doug said. He wrote in his email, quote, Each day, we learned that very little was found to lead to the lost child. But searchers did find things.

Others dropped items such as pens, clothing, even a contact lens. It was these reports, and the sight of the tapes, even during long transport rides into further areas, that gave searchers confidence that the job was thorough. Unquote. Doug remembered a time when he became separated from his own children when they were young. Once at L.L. Bean, once at a fireworks show. They reconnected swiftly. But there's no greater feeling of helplessness, he said.

And that feeling, along with their desire to help out a local family, was motivation enough to be part of the search for many of the volunteers. Doug told me, quote, To be able to have responded as possible and to have participated with so many friends and strangers did provide some sense that we were part of a responsible solution, whether a good outcome or not. By 5 a.m. on Labor Day 1975, there was still no leads on Kurt's whereabouts. According to the media, the bloodhound brought in to assist had been essential in finding a missing girl in the woods of New Sharon, Maine, just a year earlier. Going on the scent of Kurt's pajamas, they walked the dog through the dump and Robinson Brook, where searchers had walked the night before. But there was nothing to find. It's been suggested that there may have been too many conflicting scents

for the dog to get a clear path. By this point, around 200 volunteers and law enforcement were involved in the search. As the party scoured the ground, the helicopter continued to fly overhead as the pilot called out to the boy. Kurt, I'm up in the helicopter. Your mommy and daddy are waiting for you, and I want you to follow me back to the camp. Walk towards the helicopter. Don't sit down. Don't be afraid. Jill later told writer Mel Allen of Yankee Magazine in an interview that she thought the helicopter was one of their best bets, as Kurt had always liked seeing the National Guard helicopters fly near their home in Manchester. The helicopter flew for six hours that day. But as the weather started to turn and a heavy Maine fog set in,

it became clear the effort would have to be put on hold. Kurt had now been missing for over 24 hours, the most crucial time frame in a missing persons case when searching the woods. As each hour passed, Jill and Ron remained determined to find their boy. Surrounded by friends, Jill would walk the woods, listening for any hint of a child's cry or call. And Ron's stamina seemed to be unending. He'd spend hour after hour in the woods. Even the hardiest Mainers involved in the search couldn't keep up. When he fell and twisted his ankle,

he refused to take a leave until finally directed by a doctor on site. Unable to continue searching on foot, Ron took over the loudspeaker, calling for Kurt non-stop. Yankee magazine described the moment Ron's friends took the matter into their own hands and laced his coffee with tranquilizers. Quote, Wednesday night, his fourth night without sleep, the drugs finally took effect. His speech slowed and he sat gripping the loudspeaker close to his mouth, unable to speak until finally, his head dropped as he gave in to his shattering fatigue. The passion and dedication of a parent's search for their missing child can never be underestimated. It was obvious from day one that the Newtons would not be satisfied until they knew where Kurt was. When Jill was told about an airplane that was equipped with an infrared sensor and used for

flying over the jungles of Vietnam, she demanded, at whatever cost, it be flown to Maine and used in the search. A September 3, 1975 Bangor Daily News report states that the state police did obtain the plane from Eglin Air Force Base in Florida, but that it was used for only a part of Tuesday before heavy cloud cover impaired the search. No one could ignore the very real dangers of being outside overnight. Even grown adults would be facing signs of exposure. For a four-year-old boy who certainly couldn't build a fire or have the survival awareness to seek a form of shelter from the elements, hypothermia was likely. As damp, chilly weather conditions persisted, the ground search

continued. Game wardens dragged the waters of Natanis and Round Ponds for any sign that Kurt may have fallen into the water. By the fifth day, there was still no evidence of Kurt in the woods, and teams of divers had combed the waters of Chain of Ponds for several days in vain. Jill began sinking into disbelief. A photo captured at the time of the search by the Biddeford Socko Journal shows Jill, pretty with her wavy hair held back in a paisley bandana, looking distracted, almost unaffected, as then-Governor James Longley tried to comfort her. It's the face of a mother with no answers. She later told Mel Allen in the interview, it seemed it was someone else's child, not mine, not Kurt. If he panicked, if he heard a noise, if anything, the noise would have kept him out of the woods.

Even if he ran into the woods, why haven't we found tracks? He'd surely have taken off his jacket that first day when it warmed up. But if there was any hope to be had, it came from the commitment of nearly 1,500 volunteers helping look for that little boy. It was a story that gripped the heart of Maine, and they were determined to help find him. Local mills and factories closed up shops so workers could help in the efforts. College students left school to join search parties.

And neighbors and strangers alike dedicated time and resources to help the young parents. Jill told the media, quote, You walk beside people you've never seen before, and they're poking and searching, hunting and calling his name. With all this drive and all these volunteers, we're going to find him. And even though he's four, he's very sure-footed. I know he's scared, but I'm still optimistic we'll The Morning's headline read, Search for Boy to End. It had been two weeks since four-year-old Kurt Newton had disappeared from Natanas Point Campground in Chain of Ponds, and authorities were calling to an end the most extensive search in the state's history. Rain fell on the last of the searchers, a group

of about 12, as they swept the dump, campground, and nearby brook one last time. The warden's report reads, the Fish and Game Department participation in the search for Kurt Newton was terminated on Friday, September 12, 1975. According to the paper, at the height of the search in a single day, 1,100 volunteers were on the ground looking for the toddler, including the National Guard. In total, the search spanned a 2,000-acre area, with not a single trace of Kurt to be found. Was Kurt Newton lost? Did the four-year-old boy succumb to the elements? Did an unknown person nab him and speed off undetected?

A bear, once in captivity, had reportedly escaped around the same time Kurt disappeared. Did the bear take him? In the absence of evidence of any leading theory, the Newton family pushed forward in their search for Kurt in the woods and beyond. In the months following Kurt's disappearance, U.S. postal offices displayed a picture of the pouty, round-faced blonde boy, and in an effort to spread awareness, the Newtons had missing persons posters printed and mailed to every school district in the United States. In late November, just four months after the search ended,

a report came in of a young boy matching Kurt's description. He'd been found wandering New Orleans' French Quarter alone and would only answer to K names. But quick detective work and video confirmation determined that the boy was not Kurt. Tips coming in from other states turned up fruitless. At one point, Jill Newton even visited the famous psychic Jean Dixon, who claimed she could feel Kurt's vibrations and that he was still alive. Information and hard numbers relating to non-family child abductions in the 1970s aren't really available. The U.S. Justice Department released its first study on missing

children in 1990 when Congress mandated the effort to analyze the exploitation of children in this country. The study began in 1984, and it was called Missing, Abducted, Runaway, and Thrown-Away Children in America. The research, conducted by phone, mail, and review of reports over a one-year span, examined the number of crimes committed against all children under 18 years old. The report found that in one year, 1988, nearly 4,600 children were abducted by non-family members. The majority of those children were recovered within hours. But between 200 and 300 of those children who were victims of non-family abductions, they were missing for longer,

or they never came home and remained missing, or they were killed. Now, efforts like Code Adam and the Amber Alert notification system help bring more children home safely, but those systems weren't around in 1975. In 2002, when the Amber Alert child abduction notification system was brought to Maine, the Bangor Daily News reported that about 160 Maine children are reported missing

every month. But few met the standards for an Amber Alert emergency bulletin. The child has to be no older than 15 and in imminent danger of serious bodily harm. And there must be information or a description of the child or the abductor. Steve McCausland, who was the state police spokesman at the time, said only two cases would have warranted the use of an Amber Alert, had the technology been around at the time of the disappearances. One of the two was Kurt Newton. According to the Charlie Project, a database of cold missing persons cases, Kurt's case is still classified as a non-family abduction. But was Kurt Newton abducted? One camper, who was on site at the time Kurt went missing, reported seeing a white station wagon in the area that didn't belong,

but no one else could say they saw it. It was really considered a lead to nowhere when expert trackers found no evidence of vehicle traffic. The idea that a kidnapper was waiting on a rural camping road and had happened to be in the right spot at the right time as Kurt rode by, it was a stretch, but not entirely impossible. In 1985, a woman contacted the Newton family, offering to render a computer-generated age progression photo of their still-missing son, who would have been a teenager by then. Jill Newton told the Bangor Daily News

that they took the woman up on her offer, saying, it's better than not having anything to go by other than a picture of a four-year-old. It had been 10 years since her son rode off their campsite in his tricycle, and she held on to a bit of reserved hope that maybe he was out in the world somewhere. Quote,

maybe he was taken through the black market and he is with a good family. Maybe he will see a picture of himself or another missing child and maybe something will register. She continued, the chance of him being in the woods is very, very small. The search was so intense. Unquote. But Jill teetered between those scenarios for years. Was he in the woods? Did someone have him? With not a single shred of evidence, there was nothing to stop her mind swirling around the many scenarios that all led to the same conclusion. Kurt was missing. Kurt is still missing. The disappearance remains an open case with the Maine State Police,

who, as Lt. G. Paul Falconer said at the time, never discounted the possibility of an abduction, but that there was no evidence Kurt wasn't in the woods. President Ronald Reagan established May 25th as National Missing Children's Day in 1983, and the Day of Awareness has since expanded globally. At the state level, May is Missing Persons Month in Maine. It was established in 2007 as a way to bring awareness to the Mainers still missing and the families still waiting. The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children has seven listings for still open cases of missing Maine children dating back to the early 60s.

Robert Desmond was last seen on August 1st 1964, in Kennebunk, Maine. He was three weeks shy of his 11th birthday when he disappeared. Douglas Chapman was last seen playing in his sandbox in the front yard of his home in Alfred in 1971. Kathy Marie Moulton, whose story you've heard on this show, is considered missing and endangered after she disappeared from Portland, Maine in 1971. Bernard Ross was last seen in Ashland, Maine on May 12, 1977. Kim Moreau, whose story you've also heard on Dark Down East, disappeared from Jay-Maine in 1986, and foul play is suspected in her case. And the case that got me started on this path to begin with,

Ayla Reynolds. She is the most recent missing child on the list. She disappeared from Waterville, Maine, in 2011. And Kurt Newton, who remains on the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children database and on the Maine State Police unsolved missing persons case list. The Newtons never gave up hope. Long after the official search ended, they spent weekends making the two-hour trek to Chain of Ponds to walk the woods,

clinging to a miracle. Yankee magazine published their story the day Kurt Newton disappeared in 1979, four years after he'd gone missing. Writer Mel Allen spent a day with the Newtons talking with Jill and Ron. She writes about how normal their family life was able to be. And thank goodness for that for Kimberly.

She was just 10 years old at the time of the interview. The family regularly talked of Kurt, the four-year-old who was really coming into his own personality. His sister Kimberly often found herself in a daydream, saying to her parents, wouldn't it be nice if Kurt were back here with us? When Thelma Newton, Kurt's paternal grandmother, passed away in 2007, her obituary listed her surviving family members, among them her son Ron and his wife Jill, and her grandchildren, Kimberly and Kurt. It seemed the hope that Kurt was still out there, somewhere, stayed with the Newton family for decades. Talking candidly at the end of the 1979 Yankee

Magazine interview, Jill said, quote, you know, in a way I feel fortunate. I have a prayer, and I have tomorrow, and tomorrow may bring Kurt. Unquote. The year following Kurt's disappearance, a team of six Maine game wardens and two state troopers spent a day searching the Natanas campground and surrounding area. The Bangor Daily News reported, the lack of foliage made ideal conditions for the ground searchers, and a helicopter circled overhead, but no trace of the child was found. When asked about the official end to the search, Chief Game Warden Alan Sinoble said,

quote, he's just not there. Unquote. I'm thrilled you're tuning in to hear these important true crime stories in the history of Maine and New England. If you love the show, please leave a review on Apple Podcasts and hit subscribe while you're there so you never miss an episode. If you have a personal connection to a case or a story I should cover, I'd love to hear from you at hello at darkdowneast.com. Don't forget to follow along with the show at darkdowneast.com and on Instagram at darkdowneast.com. Don't forget to follow along with the show at darkdowneast.com and on Instagram at darkdowneast. Thank you for supporting this show and allowing me to do what I do. I'm honored to use this platform for the families and friends who have lost their loved ones, and for those who are still searching for answers in cold missing persons and murder cases. I'm not about to let those names or their stories get lost with time. I'm Kylie Lowe, and this is Dark Down East.