Dark Downeast - The Disappearance of Ludger Belanger (Maine)

Episode Date: May 24, 2021

MAINE MISSING PERSON, 1975: It was November 25, 1975 in Washington, Maine and Ludger Belanger stepped out into the freshly fallen snow, leaving deep boot prints as he disappeared into the woods in search of a buck. That was the last time his young wife Linda saw him, 46 years ago this year. But as the investigation revealed, it’s not the last time anyone saw him.His name remains on the Maine Missing Persons list, but the details of Ludger Belanger’s disappearance point to much more than a man who walked into the woods and never walked out. Tracks in the snow tell stories that those involved won’t.Linda Perkins continues the search for her husband and father of their three girls. She is on Dark Downeast to share his story.This is Unsolved Missing Persons case of Ludger Belanger on Dark Downeast.If you have information regarding this case, please contact the Maine State Police Major Crimes Unit - Central at [phone] or toll free at 1-800-452-4664. You may also report information about this crime using the leave a tip form. View source material and photos for this episode at darkdowneast.com/ludgerbelangerFollow @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.

He said he'd be back in an hour, hour and a half. He said he was going to take me to work because we had a lot of snow, fresh snow that overnight. I didn't have to drive, I was young. When I dropped him off, he gave me a kiss and started walking across the field. I never dreamed it would be the last time I saw him. I can still see him walking across the field. I never dreamed it would be the last time I saw him. I can still see him walking across the field. It was November 25, 1975, in Washington, Maine, and Luger Berlanger stepped out into the freshly fallen snow,

leaving deep boot prints as he disappeared into the woods in search of a buck. That was the last time his young wife Linda saw him, 46 years ago this year. But as the investigation revealed, it's not the last time anyone saw him. His name remains on the main missing persons list, but the details of Luger Belanger's disappearance point to much more than a man who walked into the woods and never walked out. Tracks in the snow tell stories that those involved won't. I'm Kylie Lowe, and this is the unsolved missing persons case of Luger Belanger on Dark Down East. Linda first laid eyes on Luger Belanger at her best friend's house. I was best friends with his sister. Linda first laid eyes on Luger Belanger at her best friend's house. Linda and Luger started dating in August of 1969.

There wasn't much to do in rural Maine, but they went to the movies together, watched TV, the usual teen dating routine. When we got to know each other a little better, we would go hunting together, whether it was bird hunting or deer hunting. We shared a lot of the same interests, so, you know, we got along good. Their young relationship met its first test when Luger's family moved to Washington, Maine,

a bit of a drive from Linda's hometown, but not too far to keep them apart. They moved to Washington, Maine, and he graduated from Madomic Valley High School in Waldenboro, Maine. And we went to the prom there. He'd all dressed up, gussied up. We have pictures. I have pictures. It was very sweet.

Really the first thing we did that was formal together. They were in love. And even at 16 and 20 years old, Linda and Luger knew their love was for life. Luger worked up the courage to ask for Linda's father's blessing. Gosh, I think when he asked my dad if we'd get married, it took him three times.

He was so shy. He couldn't spit it out. He knew what my father liked to drink, which, you know, it was a certain kind of whiskey. And he'd buy a pint and he'd go see him. And the third time he finally popped it, you know. But my dad knew what he was up to all the time. I was 16. Yeah. I was 16. Yeah, I was young.

And he was 20, 21. I was young. He was young. But I wouldn't change it. Linda left school when they got married and moved to Washington to start her life with Luger. She and Luger filled their home with three baby girls, all born 18 months apart. From the moment Linda learned she was pregnant with their first, Luger became a doting, caring father-to-be.

He was also playful. I remember even during pregnancy, he was very kind and gentle. He was also playful. jar that we would put a quarter in. It didn't matter if we won because we'd end up putting the quarter in the jar anyway. When the babies came, he was as fond of his daughters as they were fond of him. Oh gosh. He was so devoted and he didn't mind changing diapers and he so much love you could see it in his face spending time with them from infant holding them from the first time to at home and he would get up with them feeding he would he didn't mind pitching in we had the first one michelle. Angel was born in December. And by summertime, there was no stopping that kid.

She would always want Dad. Always Dad, always Dad. And she would ride on his shoulders. The minute he got home from work, she would want to get up on his shoulders, and they'd go outside and go for a walk. But she was, she didn't even eat out of her own plate. She had to be in his lap and eating out of his plate. She was very, very close. They welcomed a third daughter, Tracy, to their sweet little family

just four months before that cold November morning in 1975 when the devoted, kind, loving father and husband walked into the woods and never came back. I remember getting up around 4 with 4 a.m. on November 25, 1975. Luger and Linda were up early that morning, as they often were during the deer season. Linda fed and changed four-month-old Tracy and made breakfast for herself and Luger. Linda's sister was living with them at the time

and took care of the kids as they set off for a morning of hunting. That's what we did in the morning. We would set until 8.30, 9 o'clock. His brother John went with us that morning, and we set for about three hours to about nine. We hadn't seen anything that morning, so I had to go to work that day. I had gotten a job. So I wanted to go home and see the kids and get ready for work.

Luger wanted to stay out. Getting a big deer towards the end of deer season meant feeding his family. So he asked Linda to drop him off at the top of the hill, not far from their home. He often went there and walked down to the woods, the snowmobile trail to the county road, they call it. Then he would just walk the county road home. So, I don't know, an hour. He said he'd be back in an hour, hour and a half.

He said it was going to take me to work because we had a lot of snow, fresh snow that overnight. I didn't have to drive. I was young. Uh, when I dropped him off, he gave me a kiss. Started walking across the field. I never dreamed it would be the last time I saw him. I can still see him walking across the field.

Luger knew he was due home to drive Linda to work. But Linda kept an eye on the clock, and when her typically punctual, reliable husband didn't turn up on time, the worry crept in. He never got lost because he knew the woods. He knew that wooded area. I didn't know if he'd shot a deer and he was tracking it maybe, or maybe he needed help tracking it. When a hunter shoots and wounds a deer, but it doesn't drop, they follow that deer. If Luger was tracking a deer following its prints, a trail of blood,

he would have stayed on that deer. If they've shot it, they want to find it. They don't want it to, you know, die in the woods somewhere and rot somewhere. Because we hunt. We hunted then and we ate what we shot. It was a meal, you know, for the family. So he wouldn't have given up. I know Luji wouldn't have given up if he had wounded a deer. Linda called Luge's parents and told them that they'd been out in the woods and he wanted to stay longer.

And that he was supposed to be home, hoping it was just a deer taking longer to track. They all waited a little while longer before deciding it was time to go look for Luger themselves. And I don't know, that afternoon, we, it was like the hours, but it wasn't very long. There was no sign of him. We didn't hear him anywhere. So we went back to the parents' house and we called the police. Linda and Luger's parents were met with a response all too common in missing persons cases. They had to wait 72 hours to report him missing. And the local police force wouldn't get involved until that time had passed. They weren't willing to help at all.

You know, they just, you know, your husband didn't get home, maybe he's up carousing around, I don't know. I told him that he was a hunter and he was out in the woods. So that's when the gay wardens got involved. As the search for Luger Belanger got underway in the woods of Washington, Maine, the fear of this reality, that her beloved husband and father to their three girls was missing, brought Linda to the brink of panic and despair. I ended up in the hospital that night.

I don't remember the day. I don't know what time it was or anything. I just remember I went into a panic or something and I was just out of it. I didn't wake up until I was home. I don't remember anything until the next morning about 3 or 4 o'clock, and I could hear voices. You know, Luji wasn't in my bed, and then things started to come back. I believe they gave me a shot to calm me down in the hospital.

I don't even know who brought me home. Probably my parents, I don't know. I still don't know, I can't remember. But I could hear voices, and it was family and professional trackers and game wardens out in my living room, and they were discussing, I guess, but everybody got quiet when I came out.

So then I call it a living nightmare. Just that it, and that's the way it's been. What investigators seemed to be keeping from Linda at the time, the conversation that hushed when she entered the room, included evidence that Luger did, in fact, get a deer. A big one. Freshly fallen snow gave away his footsteps, and Linda told me that game wardens followed his trail to a spot in the woods where the deer had been dressed. And then the footsteps in the snow continued, with tracks that indicated the big buck was dragged. The trail ended on the side of an old tote road, now the Creamerlot Road. Then, as the tracks indicated, Luger got into a car.

He was a trusting person. He was a friend to all and no enemies to speak of. If Luger was offered a ride, he probably took it. They just figured that they had offered Lge a ride home with his deer. And Luge would have accepted it because Luge was trusting. So why wouldn't they take him home? That car would be key in following Luge's trail beyond the Prince in the Snow. And lucky for investigators, they had another clue as to who was driving that car.

There at the scene, they discovered a crumpled receipt for car repairs. The car in question was a 1965 Buick Special four-door sedan. That car led them to two individuals, David Svenningson and Danny Collins Jr. Police needed to speak with both men and take a closer look at the Buick. Upon questioning, both Svenningson and Collins Jr. told investigators that they'd been out hunting the same morning that Luger disappeared, but they didn't recall seeing anyone who matched Luger Belanger's description. They weren't getting much out of the two men, but the car revealed what the men wouldn't. According to reporting by the Portland Press-Herald, two wardens and a state trooper located the vehicle owned by Svenningsen. The interior of the 10-year-old car was squeaky clean, not a spot or speck of dust to be found.

It was obvious it had been recently detailed from top to bottom. The police report listed other curious details about that 65 Buick. The back seat was completely gone, and part of the car's fabric headliner was missing. They scrutinized the car further, and there in the hood ornament, clinging to the Buick emblem, was one single deer hair. Something was up with that car. There was no denying it, but at best, it was circumstantial evidence, meaning the receipt that led police to the car, the missing seat and headliner in that car, the deer hair in the hood ornament, it could all be interpreted to fit many different theories or scenarios. Though Luger had been missing several days

and his last known location was on the side of that tote road where the receipt for repairs on a 65 Buick was also discovered, those circumstances didn't present a clear, singular conclusion. On December 6, 1975, the Department of Inland Fisheries and Game obtained a search warrant for David Svenningson's home to search for evidence in connection with Luger Belanger's disappearance. During that search, investigators found guns and ammo, frozen deer meat, knives, as well as floor sweepings, contents of a vacuum cleaner bag, and hair. Still, nothing they recovered from Svenning they called it a search for Uji

and then they called it a search and recovery. But they said they couldn't make an arrest because there was no body at that time. That was the big thing back then because they couldn't find a body. Painful, scary. I didn't want to assume the worst, but I felt it. Police and game wardens continued the search for Luger Belanger and leads in his disappearance. David Svenningsen and Danny Collins Jr. stayed on the case radar, but days turned into weeks, and Linda was no closer to an answer. The sudden and total

absence of her husband altered her entire world. As I spoke to Linda on the phone, we paused often to hold space for the pain that still persists for her to this day, even four and a half decades later. Lacking physical evidence, lacking a body, the investigation into his disappearance was at a standstill. Like in many missing persons cases, the key to uncovering the truth lies in the hands of witnesses, those unwilling to tell the entire truth, because telling the truth could result in self-incrimination. In many long-term open cases like Luger's, as new detectives are assigned to the case and the file is passed from desk to desk,

the same suspects are often re-interviewed again and again as investigators test their words against the first version of events they offered. But in July of 1976, they'd lose the opportunity to question one of those suspects forever. It was an otherwise quiet Thursday evening on Hosmer Pond Road in Camden, Maine. David Svenningsen and his wife Susan were at their home, set against the backdrop of Bald Mountain, directly across from the Camden Snow Bowl. At 8.40 p.m., the quiet of that late summer night was cut by a sudden, fiery explosion. According to reporting by Emmett Mira for the Bangor Daily News, the power of the explosion inside the Svenningson home was enough to blow David straight through the front door and over 10 feet beyond into the yard. When first responders arrived at the scene, they found David in grave condition with burns over 85% of his body. The ambulance transported him to Central Maine Hospital in Lewiston, but given his condition, he needed advanced emergency treatment and was quickly transferred by emergency life flight to the Brook Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas. Mrs. Fenningson, who escaped the flames by jumping from a second-floor window,

was treated for minor burns at Camden Hospital. While David received emergency treatment in Texas, authorities investigated the source of the explosion. Earliest reports called it a low-order explosion, less explosive than dynamite, but still powerful enough to gut the entire house. The bizarre event left the small main town to develop its own theories and whisper wild rumors of what happened inside that house. Among the rumors was the story of a body found in the Svenningsen's basement. But police denied that rumor. Neighbors wondered if the blast had any connection to the recent string of bombings in Seabrook, New Hampshire, Boston, Dorchester, and Newburyport, Massachusetts.

David was a quote-unquote associate of Joseph Piccarello, who was on the FBI's 10 most wanted list for his role in those bombings. It's from that reporting of this explosion that we learn a little more about the suspect in Luger Belanger's disappearance. According to the Bangor Daily News, David Svenningson was dismissed from his job as a prison guard for unspecified charges in early 1973. In June of that same year, he was charged but acquitted of high and aggravated assault for biting off a man's ear in a fight over a car blocking a driveway. David's condition at the Texas Treatment Center improved, but only slightly. He was listed in very serious condition on August 3rd, a few days after the explosion. Investigators awaited test results, but speculated that the source of the blast was likely highly explosive liquid,

perhaps gasoline, or potentially hydrocarbon. As investigators processed the scene, they also discovered firearms, shotgun shells, and other cartridges at the Svenningsen home. But they dismissed those items as inconsequential. David was a hunter, and so it wasn't unusual for him to have those things. However, what was unusual was how they found David's car. According to reporting by Ted Sylvester for the Bangor Daily News, David Svenningson's Corvette was parked away from the house, not in its usual spot. Inside the car were several suitcases,

with another strapped to the car's exterior luggage rack. David Svenningson's possible involvement in Luger Belanger's disappearance was discussed, or at the very least mentioned, in multiple news reports following the explosion. But authorities did not comment on the case. As far as Linda knows, they did attempt to question David in the Texas hospital, hoping the man would reveal anything he'd concealed before it was too late. On Monday, August 9th, 1976, David Svenningson succumbed to his injuries. With his death, police and fire authorities announced that the investigation into the explosion would end.

Assistant Attorney General John Atwood noted that police believed the explosion and fire was the result of David's own actions, but whether it was intentional or accidental was inconclusive. Atwood told the Bangor Daily News, quote, the only possible defendant in the case is him, unquote. And the detectives tried to get there before he died to ask him some questions, but they didn't make it. Two years after the explosion that ultimately killed David Svenningson, and three years after the disappearance of Luger Belanger, a new name entered the case. A police report issued 25 years after the fact and obtained by the Portland Press-Herald

revealed that one night, while drinking with his friend Charles Christensen Jr., Danny Collins Jr. allegedly confessed to shooting Luger. According to Christensen's 1978 statement, Collins told him he'd been doing drugs with David Svenningsen, and that day, when they picked up Luger on the side of the Tote Road, an argument broke out. Allegedly, that argument ended with Collins Jr. shooting Luger in the back seat of the Buick. Danny Collins Jr. was referred to as Suspect B in the case, but it's unclear if he was questioned following the statement by Christensen. What the report does say, though, is that they determined the statement needed further

investigation before it could be presented to a grand jury. Before they ever made it that far, though, Charles Christensen Jr. passed away. In 1985, police again located that 65 Buick that the suspects had been driving that day, the one that was missing a back seat and patches of the headliner when they first searched it. Maine State Police seized two door panels and a speaker cover from the rear seat, among other components, and sent it to the state crime lab for forensic analysis and testing. But it was 10 years later. The testing did not find any blood. After 10 years, Linda was tired, frustrated, and she was left feeling helpless. She had the painful sense that Ludger's case fell off the list of priorities, like he'd just been forgotten.

I can remember calling and calling J.J.'s office, and I got told the same thing. It was an open case and that they would call me with any new information but I got told that so many times I think I just gave up. I didn't feel like they cared. I always said I felt like he was Everything was in a box in the corner in the room or something, and they just... they didn't care. That's what I felt like. I didn't think anybody cared that he was investigating. I mean, as time went on,

it was just hoping and waiting. Days turned into weeks, and, yeah, it's been 45 years, 46 years this year. Linda was only 20 years old and a mother of three young children when her husband disappeared. Life without him was not easy.

I mean, my kids grew up and went to school and had to deal with the talk around town and the rumors. And I can remember Tracy wouldn't go back to school for a while. She was so upset. Somebody told her that they found her daddy's leg in Crystal Lake, but she flatly refused to go swim in there anymore. Very emotional on the girls and me, trying to explain to them that people say things and it might not be true. If it were true, I would have heard, and somebody would have told me, and nobody has told me that.

So, you know, eventually they got older, and they went through a lot. Years passed without any new information from the Maine State Police. But Linda didn't stop searching on her own. I have had some searches through family and through people that wanted to help and cared, one had a cadaver dog, one had, a couple of them had, another one had another dog, a bloodhound. And then a couple of other people had metal detectors and stuff. Through rumors, we've heard how Luji was disposed of.

But, you know, 45 years, over 44 decades there of being wherever he is, there's a lot on top. Right. I don't know how any metal detector or anything could get through, but if the ring is still there, the wedding ring that would pick up. I was told that he was wrapped in chains and burlap with cement blocks. Yeah. So that would pick up. But we haven't gotten anything yet. So I've had searches, but I have never told law enforcement about them.

And I would tell them today I didn't care because I don't. I did it on my own because nothing was being done. I mean, I went for many, many, many years without hearing from a detective. Linda sought a legal death declaration for Luger in June of 2001, and a probate court judge ultimately granted it on the basis of due diligence searches conducted by family, the Maine Warden's Service, and Maine State Police over the previous 26 years. She remarried, but the ache of not knowing, the pain of losing Luger, and her frustration with the investigation persisted. For a time, she felt helpless. I just, you know, I felt for the longest time that's what they wanted.

They just wanted me to just be quiet and go away, and I did for a while. And I felt real bad about it, like I was up against the wall. Decades later, a phone call changed everything for Linda. I had a call from Patrick Day. Patrick Day was interested in starting a Pad Enough. It was for missing and murdered. He was really trying to reach out to all the families that were in that situation. And he wanted to form a group.

He wanted to do whatever he could for all families. In April 2013, Patrick Day moved back to Maine after many years living outside of the Pine Tree State. He reconnected with old friends on social media, and he learned how their lives had changed since he last saw them. Patrick had gone to school with Joyce McClain, a girl he described as their hometown celebrity. Everyone knew her and loved her.

Joyce was murdered in 1980, and her case went unsolved for over 30 years. And it was still unsolved when Patrick Day reconnected with Joyce's mother. He shared in the family's pain and frustration that the case of a 16-year-old girl in a town of barely 3,000 people could carry on without answers for so long. Joyce McLean's case became the earliest catalyst for Patrick Day to form a non-profit organization made up of the families of unsolved missing persons and homicide cases in the state of Maine. The Maine Cold Case Alliance works to provide mutual support, legislative lobbying, advocacy, and assistance to people who have survived the loss of a family member or friend

through homicide or accidental death. The Maine Cold Case Alliance was the driving force to secure funding for a dedicated cold case squad, among other legislation and efforts to demand justice for the missing and murdered in Maine. It also gave Linda and so many others the sense of community they needed. And I knew he cared from talking to him, and I am friends with him, and I am... I mean, I just talked to him this morning.

He did care, and he does care. And for the last, I don't know, few years, we have gotten a lot of families together, and it's good to know other people that are in the same situation. Linda is an active member of the Maine Cold Case Alliance, and through the support of that community around her, she continues her efforts to locate her husband and uncover the truth. Though she has hope, she still slips into the fear that's followed her for decades. I still live in the same house down the hill from where he walked in.

Both his parents have passed. They wanted to know what happened to their son before they did, but now I'm afraid I'll never know. But I know my kids and my grandchildren won't stop. In April of 2020, as the world shut down and masked up, Linda got a call from Maine State Police. A man was doing earthwork out behind his house. It was then that he dug up a pair of pants. He knew about, he had heard about our case and Muji, and so he called the game warden.

And when the game warden saw the pants, he immediately called Maine State Police. They wanted me to identify pants. So I met Jason Andrews on the side of the road a mile from my house and I looked at him and I said, well, they're the right color, they're the right size, they're the right brand. How can I say that? No, they were pretty deteriorated. There was a piece of rope with them. They asked if he would be carrying rope and I said always hunting because it helped when you had to drag a deer.

Then on April 10th we got a foot of snow. To my knowledge they've never been back there. But that's the way it always goes. You know you get your hopes up a little bit. You know, you're trying on too, especially after four decades. And then it's the same. They did tell me that the pants were sent to a lab because the lab in Texas, which they were sending the pants to, was a better one. But to this day, I haven't heard anything. I've contacted the Maine State Police to follow up on the forensic testing for that pair of pants. At the time of this episode's original release, I have not yet received a response. He had a wife and three little girls. He was very honest.

He was a good husband and a great daddy. He was a family man, which grew. You know, when we got married, we were huge. Both families together. My dad thought of him as a son. Still does. My dad hasn't hunted since November 25, 1975. And we don't want him forgotten.

And we're not going to give up. We're not going away. We really would like to put him to rest our way. That's what we want. We want to find if there is any remains. We would like someone to tell us where to find them. Don't care how it comes, anonymously. We want to lay him to rest our way and not thrown away like a bag of trash. Lucia deserves so much better. He did nothing to warrant this.

He, we just wanted to blame to rest with love and dignity. That would be our way. As long as she is able, Linda will keep searching for Luja and seeking answers. I do it mainly for my girls. They want to know. They want Luja's end to be different than it is. They just, they can't get what they lost,

but they can make the outcome better. If we can get some answers where he was put. I mean, every time they hear about somebody finding skeletal remains, they tend to think and hope. Everything that I... I mean, we all make mistakes and we all make wrong choices and whatever in our life, but... I've always tried to put them first,

and as they grow up and have their own families, Luge and I have 19 grandchildren now. I do it for them first. And as they grew up and had their own families, Luji and I have 19 grandchildren now. I do it for them, too. I mean, they never got to meet their grandpa. None of them got to meet their grandpa. But a lot of them hunt and fish and so many memories that Luji would have enjoyed with them.

Those grandchildren are what keep her smiling. I always told them that they will never be too old to hug me. I will always look for a hug for them when I see them. But yes, I've always said my children and my grandchildren were my medicine. They make me happy and they make me feel good. Thank you for listening to Dark Down East. Thank you to Linda Perkins for trusting me with Luger's story. Sources and reference material for this episode, including pieces by the Bangor Daily News and Portland Press-Herald, are listed and linked in the show notes at darkdowneast.com so you can do some digging of your own.

If you have a personal connection to a case I should cover, I'd love to hear from you at hello at darkdowneast.com. 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, like Linda, 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.