In 1993, Richard Hoagland seemed to be living the good life. He had a young wife and two sons, Matthew and Douglas. Business was good enough at his insurance company to pay for a five-bedroom house outside Indianapolis, a speedboat tied up at a nearby lake and a closet stuffed with designer suits.
Then he went AWOL.
On Fed. 10, Hoagland told his wife he was going to the hospital. When she called the emergency room, her husband wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere. His passport and toothbrush were still at home.
“He didn’t pack any clothes. It was cold, it was in February, he did not take a coat,” Linda Iseler, Hoagland’s wife, told ABC’s Nightline in 2016. “How do you walk away from your own children? How do you turn your back?”