In 1990, more than ten years after Etan’s disappearance, I was a fledgling producer at the ABC News newsmagazine, PrimeTime Live. Stuart GraBois, the New York federal prosecutor who’s one of the main characters in the book, had taken the unprecedented step of getting himself  “guest” deputized to prosecute another child molestation case in Pennsylvania in order to go after his prime suspect in the Patz case. It was a fascinating look at an investigator who refused to give up until he got his man. And it was a triumphant story about one little boy in Pennsylvania, who had at first been failed by the system, but had ultimately seen his attacker answer for his crimes.

I was pulled in, and from then on followed the story avidly. I ended up producing two more segments on the case at “60 Minutes,” as extraordinary new developments kept cropping up.  Just when I thought nothing else could happen, there’d be a new chapter, and I’d be proven wrong again.  Along the way, I came to know Etan’s father, Stan Patz, and I was taken by his grace and quiet heroism.

Over the years, I dug so deeply and gathered so much compelling material on the case, I was always itching to tell the next installment.  But ultimately, as in all television, where the reporting must be boiled down to fit into twelve-minute segments. I had to leave out 90% of the most interesting material. At a certain point, it began to feel that I couldn’t NOT write the book.  “You just can’t make this stuff up,” I often found myself saying.

In my long television news career, I’ve always been drawn to unlikely heroes - ordinary people who face extraordinary challenges - to document how they respond. This story totally fits the bill.  Etan’s parents, the investigators who never gave up, all were an inspiration, and I wanted to pay homage.

One of these people, former Federal prosecutor Stuart GraBois, had over the years become a friend, and we’d often joked about someday writing the book. When the timing in his life was right, I jumped.  He has been a wonderful collaborator. I couldn’t have told this story without him.

I think there are several reasons that this particular case hit a nerve in our collective psyche. First, one of the many things I learned while reporting this book is that there are far fewer stranger abduction cases in this country than public perception suggests. The overwhelming percentage of missing children are either runaways or parental abductions, and almost all stranger abductions are accounted for fairly soon after they’re reported.  Either a body is found or a child returns home.  Sadly, more often, it’s a body. But then it’s over. This case was never over.

Etan was a white, middle class New York boy, which unfortunately in our society draws more attention. But Etan was also an arrestingly beautiful boy, whose professional photographer father had taken dozens of lovingly shot portraits that were on hand to distribute during the search.  Often, missing children are represented only by muddy, unfocused, outdated snapshots, or unnatural looking school photos. Stan Patz’s photos helped people care about this boy who seemed to leap off the newspaper pages and missing posters. Etan’s parents were both articulate and compelling in their public pleas – that helped too.

Finally, while it certainly wasn’t the first missing child case ever, it set off an awareness that later bloomed into a movement, and as such, Etan’s story became not just an enduring mystery, but a symbol of a parent’s worst nightmare and of the need to watch our children more carefully, both as parents and as a culture.

Absolutely. This is an especially difficult time frame because it’s recent enough so that many of the people who played a part in the case are still around to challenge any liberties taken, and old enough to test those same people’s memories. It was amazing to me how many interviews contradicted themselves, mostly on the small points. That required a lot of independent corroboration to fill in gaps and reconcile fading memories. When I started the book project, I mistakenly believed that my television reporting over the years meant I’d done most of the research. In fact, the research will never be “done.” It was incredibly difficult but also fascinating.

I’ve also been struck by how many of the people who were key players in this story have read the book and reacted by saying they thought they’d known everything about the case and were surprised to learn so much more.

I learned a tremendous amount. There is a whole section of this book, in the latter half, that was taking place while I was reporting the story for ABC News, and I didn’t know anything about it at the time. Plus, back then I was poking around, asking questions, and as I later researched the time period for the book, I kept coming across my own name amongst notes and anecdotes!  That was very surprising.

I also came into the book knowing something about the main characters, and hoping my admiration didn’t sour as I learned more. I was not disappointed, and if anything, my esteem for them was heightened.