I can't stand another night in a hotel. Just being away. You miss the kids.
One missing child is one too many.
Children are my pet cause. I have a foster child in El Salvador, and whenever I'm home, I work for the Adam Walsh Foundation, which finds missing children. I also do some hospital visits and other things for the Make-a-Wish Foundation.
There's no excuse in a technological age where we've got drones - you know, overhead, and we can monitor anything, all sorts of minutia - that we can't track living flesh-and-blood children.
God pays twice as much attention on Christmas, like the media when a white kid goes missing.
I'm not exactly sure how many kids I have, but yes, I do miss them officially, for the record. In case any of them are listening, I love you.
Children are the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. It hurts me to be away from them for a few hours. It really does. I love them and they're girls, so they know how to push my buttons. But I've learned a lot and I have to thank my wife for that.
If a kid disappears, now there's Amber Alerts: they know this-this-this. In the '50s, we kids wandered around. Nobody knew what you were doing.
When you have kids, you instantly feel that you do not want to do them wrong. Those dads that go off to Florida and start a new life, I couldn't imagine that: seeing my kid once every Christmas, every three years. If I'm gone for six days it feels like too much.
I love everything about my job, except being away from the kids.
As a seven-year-old, I remember when Etan Patz disappeared and was immortalized as the first missing-child face on a milk carton.
I have already spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning alone, missing my children, and crying because I have no family nearby.
I came back to work when my children were two months old. At that early age, they seem to have little awareness of anybody but their Raggedy Ann dolls, so it wasn't a matter of them missing me. I was missing them.
It breaks my heart that I don't see my daughters every day, don't get to hug them and brush their hair.
There are a multitude of mothers in the world who have a daughter who is stolen, or who are stolen daughters themselves.
Adam's abduction was our private hell - but it was not an isolated incident. On any given day, any number of children are absent from their homes for diverse and numerous reasons.
It hurts. I miss my kids. I miss my kids in so many ways that I can't explain.
Stones and bones; snow and frost; seeds and beans and polliwogs. Paths and twigs, assorted kisses, We all know who Daddy misses! His two little frogs of girls, that’s who. They know where they are, do you, do you?
These are my daughters, I suppose. But where in the world did the children vanish?
