James McMahon

Life after death | 31 January 2019

Their stories rarely get told. But once you’ve heard them they become impossible to forget

[iStock] 
issue 02 February 2019

I’ve talked to Denise Horvath-Allan more than my own mother this year. Denise’s son Charles went missing while backpacking in Canada. I see his face — never ageing, entombed within his early twenties — every day on Facebook. Denise’s posts are more desperate each time I see them.

Charles disappeared in 1989, on the eve of his 21st birthday. Denise and I believe he was murdered not long afterwards. But the case, like so many others, remains unsolved.

As a journalist, I’ve been writing about true crime for years. True crime is a non-fiction genre that examines a crime and the people involved. It has never been more popular: just look at the success of Serial and Making a Murderer. But while I’m as gripped as anyone by these shows, I feel they do a poor job of capturing the impact of crime on those left behind.

Yes, there’s a lot of blood, guts and nastiness in true crime, but that’s not the part that stays with you.

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