A father in Davenport still has unanswered questions eight years after his 15-year-old son disappeared.
This was the eighth Easter Sunday that Michael Workman and his family have spent without their son, Fredrick.
Years ago, Fredrick got himself into some trouble with the law, so his family sent him to a youth facility in Des Moines.
But on Aug. 2, 2013, he ran away. He hasn’t been seen since,
“I wish he would still be here today. He would be with the whole family,” Michael Workman said.
It’s a never-ending horror story for any parent when a child goes missing. That’s the agony Michael Workman and his family have been living with for the past eight years.
His son, Fredrick, was in Des Moines getting some help when he ran away.
The day Fredrick went missing is something Workman will never forget.
“Right after we found out he went missing I quit my job,” Michael Workman said. “I was without work for quite awhile.
“I headed to Des Moines that day and we were up between Iowa City and Des Moines and I saw a sheriff parked in the middle doing a radar,” he remembers. “And I pulled right over on the side of the road and gave him a flier.”
Workman was the last one to see his son before he ran away, and he feels guilty over what happened. He says he should’ve sensed something.
“I was the one who bought the clothes he took off in,” Workman said. “The clothes I bought him that Monday is what clothes he ran in that Friday.”
“He always told me every time I would go up there, ‘Dad I’m gonna run. Dad, I’m gonna run.’ And I would always tell him ‘I love you so much. Don’t do that.'”
“The last words he said to me was ‘OK, dad. I love you.'”
Sunday was the eighth Easter that Michael Workman spent with an empty seat at the table.
Workman says the hole left is something that will never go away until Fredrick is brought home. In the meantime, he relishes the good memories he has of his son.
“He would go, ‘Dad, can I go down the street to the park and go fishing?’ He loved water. He would bring back these little itty-bitty fishes and think we could clean them. I would say ‘No, we gotta take it back. We can’t clean these.'”
Workman says he won’t stop looking until he sees his son again.