Man's disappearance tests mother's faith

Two have been companions 71 years

RALEIGH -- Lucy Rochelle lost her best friend in July, when her son, William -- her companion of 71 years -- awoke one morning and walked out the front door of their home just south of downtown.

He left behind his leather wallet, his Armitron watch and the new black suit he had just bought for church. What he didn't leave was a note. He hasn't called. No one has spotted him. Police have exhausted their leads.

Still, Lucy Rochelle, 89, holds out hope that someone -- anyone -- will find her only son. Recently, she took to the streets, distributing fliers and newspaper articles that featured a grainy DMV photo of her son in a plaid shirt buttoned up all the way.

"Lord, I just don't know what to do," she said. "I miss everything about him."

Bill, as his mother calls him, has lived with family since birth. Seizures and other medical conditions make it nearly impossible for him to live alone. The arrangement suited Lucy Rochelle just fine.

"When you see one, you see the other," said Pastor Tyrone Ashley, who saw the Rochelles at Redeeming Love Missionary Baptist Church on Sundays. "They're always together."

After he disappeared, police and family hoped that he had simply gone for a long walk. A few years earlier he had walked to a relative's home in Morrisville without telling anyone.

But this hope vanished as July's heat wave dragged on and no one spotted him. He is now 72.

Lucy Rochelle said her son was always ready to hop in her car's passenger seat and run errands with her. He also liked to work in the yard.

She describes her son as a listener, not a talker. She said he had a penchant for fashion (for church, he fancied cuff links, suspenders and tie clips), and savored Welch's grape juice and cake.

Sometimes, he would wander to nearby City Market and peek at store windows or inspect vegetables at the produce stands. He'd often buy turnips and greens, which he would cook in a meat broth and serve to his mom, who still raves about them.

Most days, he awoke between 5 and 6 a.m., and the two would start their routine. They'd dust walls with a soft mop, vacuum their immaculate off-white carpet and pick up trash that had gathered near the front lawn.

In the afternoon, he'd go upstairs and watch television or sit on a couch and listen to 45s of Joe Tex, The Cadillacs and Neil Diamond.

Now these rooms are quiet. Lucy Rochelle ascends stairs without a cane and goes without a hearing aid. But she has little reason to go upstairs since her friend is no longer there.

Occasionally, when she thinks about Bill's disappearance, she becomes distraught. And she prays. A few weeks ago, the Lord inspired her to pass out fliers about her missing son at WakeMed, the Raleigh Police Department, the sheriff's office and area shops.

No one called.

But she still hopes that maybe her son has wandered into a safe home or shelter. Or that someone will recognize his photograph and call police.

"There's nothing else I know what to do," she said. "Other than put it in the Lord's hands."