Mystery: Trashed

Back on the fourth floor, they drank some more. Those with John would later recall that he was definitely drunk, but not dangerously so. Around 2 a.m., he made his way a few doors down to the empty room of a girl we’ll call Jessie. Jessie and John’s relationship was tricky. He had feelings for her; how deeply hers went were complicated by the fact that she already had a boyfriend. It was par for the course for John, who counted myriad girls as friends but, to his continual frustration, none as girlfriend. Still, it wasn’t unusual for John to sleep in Jessie’s bed. With the door ajar, he kicked off his sneakers and climbed under the covers. Between 2:45 and 3 a.m., a friend looked in, saw him sleeping, and shut the door.

It wasn’t like John to disappear. A scholar-athlete at Clearview Regional High School in Mullica Hill, he’d earned a reputation for being hardworking — nothing came easy for him, his father told me. Though he rode the bench during every football game of his senior year, he never complained. He chose TCNJ, one of the most competitive schools in the state, for its idyllic setting, graphic-arts program, relatively affordable tuition, and proximity to home. He was somewhat shy and close to his three younger siblings and his parents, especially his mom, Susan.

Around 10:45 a.m., Jessie’s roommate returned home and discovered Jessie’s bed partially unmade but empty; John’s New Balance sneakers were still on the floor. Friends were calling John’s cell phone — Hi, this is John … — which went directly to voicemail. As the morning progressed, students began heading downstairs to the cafeteria. All around the dorm, people asked: Has anyone seen John?

Day turned to night. After 9:30 p.m., one of John’s friends dialed John’s parents’ handsome, stone-faced house in Sewell, Gloucester County. John Sr., a physical therapist, answered. Fear in her voice, the friend told him John hadn’t been seen since 3 a.m. They’d called campus police, she said, but were told nothing could be done until 24 hours had passed. John Sr., concerned and upset, spoke again with the friend at 3 a.m. His wife Susan was in a hotel in Cherry Hill for a beauty pageant in which John’s little sister was competing on Sunday. John Sr. debated calling her, but decided not to. It was all a misunderstanding, he was sure. He tried to fall back asleep.