Looking into a non-WTC MIA

It was around mid-August that I first noticed the flier for a missing man. It was carefully taped to a lamppost on Montague St. in downtown Brooklyn Heights. This was two months ago, when such announcements were rare. The flier had a picture on it of a hale and hearty older Latino man. It looked like he was outdoors, standing on a boardwalk at the beach. The photo was taken on one of the good days in this man's life. Strolling the boardwalk, maybe buying some ice cream and seeing a spot that would make a fine photo. He had a kind face, weathered by the years but still smiling; he looked like he was enjoying the later years of his life.

The flier explained that his name was Alfredo Pantija and he was 63. He lived in East Harlem and suffered from Alzheimer's disease. On July 21, 2001, he was seen walking on 116th St. and Lexington Ave. He kept on going, and his family hadn't heard a word from him since. Pantija was married to a woman named Gloria, and one of his identifying marks was an eagle tattoo on his right arm with his wife's name on it. Below this narrative was a contact number.

I read the flier and moved on. Figured the whole thing was a long shot, but I hoped that Alfredo Pantija found his way home. Later in the week I saw the same flier in Manhattan on Broadway, then another on 18th St. and another on 72nd St. Whoever Alfredo Pantija was, he had a family that truly loved him. But the more fliers I saw the more desperate I realized the family must be. New York is a big place, and a lost man with an insidious disease like Alzheimer's could go on walking forever and never be stopped.

Sept. 11 came, and thousands of such fliers appeared. I forgot all about Pantija. Then last week I passed a frayed flier of his and decided to give his family a call. These calls are not easy to make, because you never know what you're going to hear?and you're never sure just what to say. Will the family think you're some ghoul looking to write about their heartbreak? Was he found floating in the river? Is he still missing?

I called a few times and left messages. No one called back. That was not a good sign. I gave it one last shot. A young woman named Julissa?Pantija's daughter?answered. I stumbled ahead with my questions. She cut me off with a simple, "My father was found."

"That's great. You must be happy."

"Yes we are. Where did you see the poster?"

Julissa Pantija went on to tell me that the family had blanketed the city streets and shelters and hospitals with the notices. It became a family crusade to bring Alfredo home, a way to do something when sitting around waiting for a phone call became unbearable.

The good news came on Sept. 4. It had been 45 days since he had wandered off down 116th St. Pantija was found unconscious on 19th St. Someone called an ambulance and he was brought to Cabrini Medical Center. "Luckily we had alerted all the hospitals in the city to my father and they all had a copy of the poster, " Julissa Pantija said.

After a brief stay in the hospital Pantija was reunited with his family. He is in good shape, but has no idea where he was or what he did on his 45-day sojourn.

"He is not able to tell us what happened. We're so happy he's home now," his daughter says.