Mother at peace with son's disappearance 27 years ago

JENNY MICHAEL Bismarck Tribune Feb 20, 2008

When the photograph of the young Marine emerges during an old, videotaped television story, the proud look of a mother crosses Dorothy Falconer's face.

"That's my son," she says, smiling and pointing at the television. Falconer looks near tears at several points in the story, but she puts the smile back on her face each time. "That's kind of a tear-jerker," she says.

This week marked the 27th anniversary of the disappearance of her son, Bruce, and his friend, Tim Jewell. Jewell's body was found in 1992 by a hunter, but Bruce has never been found. His disappearance is the only open missing person case in the Burleigh County Sheriff's Department.

In February of 1981, Bruce Falconer was a newly promoted sergeant in the Marines, which he joined at age 16 with his mother's approval. He was home in Bismarck on leave before being transferred to Yuma, Ariz. He spent his time on leave catching up with old friends, including Jewell, his friend since grade school.

According to Tribune files, Falconer and Jewell went to a few bars on the night of Feb. 20, 1981, then went in Falconer's Blazer to the "Desert" south of Bismarck along the Missouri River after the bars closed.

Dorothy Falconer was in California that weekend, attending her daughter's wedding. When she returned home, on either Sunday or Monday, her younger daughter told her Bruce had not come home since Friday night. A few days later, Dorothy Falconer's brother found Bruce's Blazer "mired in mud," stuck at the Desert. Nearby was a campfire and cigarette butts.

Burleigh County Sheriff Pat Heinert was an investigator with the department then, less than a year into detective work. He worked to organize searches with the case agent, Jerry Theisen, bringing in three-wheelers, horse posses and other volunteers to search. Psychics put in their two cents. They found no sign of the two men. "We worked it real hard - put a lot of hours in, and rightfully so," Heinert said. During the first, intense period of searching, Dorothy Falconer worried and wept. "I just cried and walked the floors," she said. "I didn't sleep; I didn't eat." But in time, she decided she couldn't spend her life grieving. She didn't want her other three children or her grandchildren to see her as a bitter and grief-filled woman. "One day, I just decided, this isn't right," she said.

Bruce's birthday, July 16, and the month of February were hard on Dorothy Falconer for a few years, but time has made them easier to handle. "My family and I don't dwell on the disappearance," she said. "We remember Bruce's life, his personality, his accomplishments."

Rumors about the disappearances, such as one about Bruce going "AWOL" from the Marines, were hard on her, as were people calling her with their theories about what happened. "He was making a career of (the military)," she said. "That's how I knew he didn't go AWOL."

She also knew from early on her son was likely dead - she didn't believe he would have left behind his Blazer or paychecks, nor would he have gone away without talking to her. The Marines declared him dead five years after his disappearance. "I kind of thought so right away," she said.

In December 1992, a hunter found a skeleton at the Desert. There was a good possibility that the remains belonged to either Bruce Falconer or Jewell, but the sheriff's department wanted to make sure, Heinert said. "We didn't want to give either family any false hopes," he said. Determining whose remains they were was trickier than it would be today, because DNA testing was not common. A new dentist in town had some forensic training, and he determined that the remains were those of Jewell.
Heinert said he knew the announcement would be helpful to one family and hard on another. "That was terribly hard," Dorothy Falconer agreed.

After consulting with other coroners and medical examiners, the coroner determined Jewell's likely cause of death was exposure, Heinert said.

Dorothy Falconer sobbed at Jewell's funeral, her grief coming either from her son not being found or the finalization of knowing her son's fate was likely the same. Not finding her son's body has not increased her grief, which she said is "probably no more than anyone who has lost a loved one." She still thinks of her son every day. Her grandsons remind her of him, and his medals are still in her home. Sometimes conversations will remind her of stories of him. "Anyone who knew Bruce knew he had a great personality. He had such charisma," she said. "He was so dedicated. I know that's why he was such a good Marine. He could be such a fighter."

She credits the Burleigh County Sheriff's Department for keeping her in the loop over the years and working hard to find her son. The sheriff at the time of the disappearance, Bob Harvey, had been her classmate, and Theisen's mother baby-sat Dorothy Falconer's children.

Heinert inherited the case from Theisen when the latter left the department. Over the years, the case has been passed to other investigators, the case file never far from a detective's desk. It's been years since the department received tips on the case, but investigators checked out even the most unlikely possibilities.
"We've never closed the case, and we never will," Heinert said.