A reclusive woman from Florida lost her grip on reality after life dealt her a hard blow. She cut herself off from the world and disappeared from all sight without ever leaving her house.
Kathryn Norris Kunzweiler worked as a contractor for NASA. She was married, she had a social life, and she was cared for. But after she was diagnosed as manic depressive in December of 1990, Kathryn lost both her job and her husband.
The divorcee developed a habit of scribbling notes on index cards. “Dropped fork at lunch,” read one. “Felt depressed in evening and cried,” she wrote on a separate occasion. “Noise outside at 4 a.m.,” read another, “sounded like a dog.”
Kathryn survived on a meagre pension and disability benefits. She married, briefly, a second time. But the relationship was toxic and quickly disintegrated, leaving Kathryn alone once more.
The lonely woman, only in her late fifties but in rapid physical and mental decline, grew paranoid. She had few acquaintances and was estranged from much of her family.
She wrote letters to old friends, which she never sent. She shut off the electricity. Eventually, the 57-year-old got in her car, where she felt safe, and closed the door.
A fixer-upper from the local area named Matthew Everly bought the tattered, two-story townhouse in a foreclosure auction. He went to visit the property shortly thereafter to change the locks, hoping to fix up the house and sell it on.
What he found was the detritus of Kathryn’s lonely and disordered life. Stacks of dirty dishes, moldy cat food, empty pill bottles, and a copy of the Brevard County Hometown News, dated July 24, 2009.
Everly noticed piles of books about religion, transformation, weight loss, and making fresh starts—the last fragments of Kathryn’s efforts to reclaim her life. Then he opened the door to the garage.
A 1987 silver Chevy Nova sat inert with locked doors. The new homeowner scanned the interior, clocking a white blanket, a pillow, and a pine tree-shaped air freshener. But what Everly saw in the passenger seat froze him to the spot.
It was the stiff, cold body of a woman. The body was Kathryn’s. It had been 16 long months since the 57-year-old closed the door for the very last time.
She was wearing a dress. Her head was resting on the floor of the vehicle, and her feet were on the seat. Authorities ruled out foul play, but an autopsy could not determine the specific cause of Kathryn’s death.
Neighbors admitted that they hadn’t seen Kathryn at all for over a year. One called her “a little strange,” while another said she “just disappeared.”
It’s a heartbreaking world we live in when a lonely woman can go missing in her very own home. Get to know your neighbors, visit your elderly relatives, and show your loved ones that you care about their welfare.
Don’t let anybody truly disappear.
