The month of November always brings back sad
memories for members of our family.
Forty seven years have passed but we will
never forget or understand what happened on the night of Tuesday 2 November,
1965.
My cousin, Ross (short for Rosslyn) Evans was at
the time an 18 year old medical student at the University of Bristol. Just
before 10 o’clock that night, he’d been having a coffee with a fellow student
in the refectory of their hall of residence – Badock Hall in the Stoke Bishop
area of Bristol.
He left saying he was going to call on another
medical student in the nearby Hiatt Baker Hall of Residence. Ross never turned
up for that meeting and has never been seen or heard of since by members of his
family.
Despite extensive enquiries by Ross’s parents
and his uncle, in particular, at the time and for years afterwards, no real
clues have ever been uncovered as to why a seemingly content and happy, bright
student should disappear without trace.
Ross was the second of three children born and
brought up in Aberdare in the South Wales Valleys. Having won a Miners’ Welfare
Scholarship at Aberdare Grammar School, Ross entered university as a second
year student by virtue of his A Level results. He disappeared barely a month
into his time at university.
He had a happy home life, a girlfriend studying
at Queen Elizabeth College, London and, according to letters home, a particular
delight at being in college beginning a course he’d long set his heart on
following.
His room showed no signs that he intended
leaving. He’d packed nothing, even his shaving gear was left behind in his room
and he’d gone with only the clothes he’d been wearing. He left his books open
on his desk, a sentence half completed in his notebook and his pen lying
alongside, seemingly all ready to start work again.
Although he’d suffered from asthma as a child,
Ross was now in good health, he was very fit, had played rugby for his hall,
dabbled in cross-country and enjoyed rock and mountain climbing, caving and
ornithology.
Organised searches of the area by police,
soldiers and civilians, including some of Ross’s fellow students, revealed
nothing. There was substantial coverage in local and national newspapers and
appeals made on television locally but there was no real response.
Ross’s parents in Aberdare and uncle in
Walsall, West Midlands undertook their own extensive enquiries, distributing
leaflets with his picture far and wide and contacting psychics, private
detectives and clairvoyants, including the famous Dutch medium, Gerard Croiset,
often consulted by Dutch police in missing person cases.
Several theories were put forward and some
followed up. For instance, the recurrence of the name ‘Alice’ led to Ross’s
uncle writing to the local authorities in Alice Springs, Australia, and Port Alice,
in British Columbia, Canada. This was only one of a couple of Canadian leads
that were followed up – enquiries were also made in Montreal, the port to which
the ship Halifax City had sailed out of Bristol on the morning after Ross’s
disappearance.
Ross’s parents died without knowing what
happened to their son and those left behind still have no answers. The years
pass but the questioning and loss remains. In many ways, not knowing is the
hardest part.
Had there been an organisation like Missing
People at the time, I’m sure my relatives would have had greater support in
their deep anxiety and, possibly, some answers.
Writing in the mid-60s about the mysterious
disappearance of a large number of young men and boys at that time, Tom
Tullett, Chief Crime Writer of the Daily Mirror, said, “One of the shortcomings
of our police system is that there is no central register of missing persons. What
a boon it would be if, instead of having to circularise all forces when they
find a corpse, the police could consult a central missing persons’ bureau.”
(Daily Mirror, Thursday 26 January, 1967).
The charity Missing People is a lifeline when
someone disappears – the kind of lifeline Ross’s parents, brother and sister,
and other family members could have done with back in the 60s and in the years
that followed. It’s a wonderful, much-needed charity and deserves our support.
cousin of missing man Ross Evans
What a powerful and tragic story. To know nothing after so many years - very very hard on everyone. My son went missing from our home in New Zealand 20 years ago, the search scenarios you describe so familiar. I just pray I will know SOMETHING before I die - and hopefully that's leaving a few years yet.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your story.
Sarah Godwin