By Matt Leingang
Enquirer staff writer

Charlie Capel, here with wife June, wrote a 10-page, mini-autobiography seven years ago, and family members say it's one of their most cherished keepsakes. Photo provided

OXFORD - Charlie Capel is gone -- gone from his home on Patrick Drive since May 21, when he presumably walked out the front door, his wallet and eyeglasses still on the bedroom dresser.

Gone from his wife, two daughters and three grandchildren who are left speculating about his fate.

The disappearance of Capel, an 81-year-old retired Miami University mathematics professor who has Alzheimer's disease, is a mystery for Oxford police, who are stymied by the lack of clues in the case despite a search that has expanded nationwide.

Using canine search teams and helicopter support, police have scoured a 10-mile radius around the house four times. A search June 8, an event that drew close to 400 volunteers in this Butler County city of 22,000, covered 500 acres of parkland, 40 city blocks and 15 miles of roadway ditches.

But it turned up nothing.

For Capel's family, the uncertainty of his status has taken an emotional and psychological toll. While holding out hope that he will be found alive, family members now speak of him, uncomfortably, in the past tense.

"He was a very gentle, generous man who provided us with support and love," said daughter Gail Capel Stephenoff of Hilliard, Ohio, a Columbus suburb.

A 10-page, mini-autobiography written by Charlie in 1997, before the onset of Alzheimer's, is now one of the family's most cherished keepsakes - a final link to his cognitive self and a source of strength during this heartbreaking crisis.

'SAFE RETURN'

Wandering is aimless or purposeful roaming that can cause a person with Alzheimer's disease to become lost. In 1993, the Alzheimer's Association started a national registry called "Safe Return." A person with dementia is given a bracelet or necklace containing their name, identification number and a toll-free phone number. About 110,000 people have been registered in the United States The program is credited with safely recovering more than 8,000 registered individuals to their families and caregivers - an overall success rate of 95 percent. About 600 people are registered in the Tristate, according to Anne Von Hoene, coordinator of the Safe Return program for the Alzheimer's Association of Greater Cincinnati. The local chapter gets about six calls each year for missing Alzheimer's patients. Charlie Capel, the missing Oxford man, was not registered. The family wasn't aware of the program, his wife, June, said. Following his disappearance, though, the Alzheimer's Association agreed to enter Capel's information - height, weight and overall description - into the nationwide system, hoping that it could yield a lead. "We tell families that even if you don't think your loved one is a wanderer, you can never predict their behavior," Von Hoene said. Although it might be impossible to eliminate wandering, there are some tips: • People with Alzheimer's often forget where they are. Posting descriptive photographs on the doors to various rooms, including a photo of the individual on the door to his or her own room, can help with navigation inside the home. • Watch for patterns. If wandering occurs at the same time every day, it might be linked to a lifelong routine. For example, a woman who tries to leave home every day at 5 p.m. might believe she's going home from work. A planned activity at that hour could provide a distraction and prevent the wandering behavior. To register someone in Safe Return, call 721-4284.

"We are at peace if he has passed away," Gail said. "That is a possibility. I won't give odds either way. We're just praying for some kind of resolution and closure."

Wandering is one of the most unsettling behaviors in people with Alzheimer's disease, which affects 4.5 million Americans, including 40,000 in Greater Cincinnati.

About 60 percent of people with Alzheimer's will wander and become lost at some point during the course of their illness, according to the Alzheimer's Association of Greater Cincinnati.

Most will do so repeatedly. Usually, they are found within a half-mile radius of where they disappeared.

The most troubling statistic, though, is this: About 46 percent of wandering Alzheimer's patients die if not found within 24 hours.

Time is not on the Capel family's side.

"I'm amazed at how I'm coping with this," said June Capel, 82, Charlie's wife of 58 years and the last person to see him. "I've steeled myself, I guess. I try not to think about it.

"I want to believe that Charlie went for a walk that morning - he used to be a big walker - made a wrong turn and got lost. Maybe someone picked him up and dropped him off at a shelter or something. I don't know. We may never know."

Whole family in education

Growing up in a college town with parents who are both educators - June Capel is a former high school French teacher - it's not surprising to the Capel sisters that they ended up in academic settings.

Gail Capel Stephenoff, 48, is the director of enrollment management at Ohio State University. Janice Capel Anderson, 52, is a professor of philosophy and religious studies at the University of Idaho.

"It was a stimulating environment," Gail said of her upbringing. "Dad would talk a lot about his classes and his students. I remember him bringing home tests to grade at night so he could return them to students the next day. He believed that students should get immediate feedback."

The foundation of Charlie's career, and much of his life, was laid at New York State College for Teachers in Albany.

He met June there shortly after starting school in 1940, a courtship that was interrupted by the United States' entry into World War II.

Charlie volunteered for the Army in 1943 and served as an ambulance driver during some of the most intense battles in Europe, including the Battle of the Bulge. He returned stateside two years later, went back to school, re-established his relationship with June and quickly got married.

They settled in Rochester, N.Y., so Charlie could pursue a master's degree in mathematics at the University of Rochester. June taught at a local high school.

The next stop was New Orleans, where Charlie received a doctorate from Tulane University.

In the 1950s, Charlie made contacts in and out of academia that led to a teaching job at the University of Miami in Coral Gables, Fla. He later went to work as a researcher at Westinghouse Research Labs in Pittsburgh.

But teaching was Charlie's life, and he jumped at a chance in 1960 to join the mathematics department at Miami University.

After he retired in 1993, Charlie still kept regular office hours. He created the department's first Web site and designed an online placement test for incoming freshmen.

"He made me feel welcomed," said Professor Emily Murphree, who joined the faculty in 1982 and was among the hundreds who participated in the June 8 search. "He would always stop by my office to say hi and talk about life, little things like that."

Oxford Mayor Jerome Conley said many of the people who turned out to search for Charlie didn't even know him.

"I think the city rallied behind the family," Conley said. "Part of it was the tragedy of the story, but I heard a lot of people say that if the shoe were on the other foot - if something like this happened to their family - they'd like to know that they could count on the community's support."

Quick deterioration

As Gail recalls, something was noticeably wrong with her father in 2000.

"He clearly wasn't remembering things," Gail said. "He would repeat himself. He got agitated easily, this from someone who had always been a very calm, collected person."

Soon after, a doctor confirmed that Charlie had Alzheimer's disease.

He was given Reminyl, a medication to help slow the progress of the disease. But whether the drug helped is unclear. Family members said Charlie's brain deteriorated quickly. Before long, he couldn't drive.

He stopped reading and taking morning walks - two of his favorite hobbies. He became sedate, spending most of his waking hours in a recliner watching CNN.

Eventually, Charlie stopped recognizing friends and family members.

In March, Janice flew in from Idaho and Gail drove from Columbus to spend five days with their parents and assess the situation. Charlie had made it known years before that he did not wish to spend his last days in a nursing home. June also preferred to stay at the house where they have lived for 40 years.

Caregiving for an Alzheimer's patient can be an exhausting, lonely experience. The daughters, who were beginning to feel that their mother and father could benefit from an assisted-living program, concluded that June was still strong despite her severe arthritis.

Then Charlie disappeared.

'Leads have dried up'

June woke up about 8 a.m. May 21 to discover Charlie gone. The front door to their house, a white brick ranch located about two miles west of Miami's campus, was wide open.

Besides Charlie, the only things missing were a pair of his running shoes and a baby-blue stocking cap, which he typically wore at night to keep his head warm.

Experts are uncertain why Alzheimer's patients wander. It could be triggered by attempts to express emotions such as fear, isolation, loneliness, loss, curiosity, restlessness or boredom.

A canine search team that day may have picked up Charlie's trail heading into town, past a Kroger store on Locust Street, a route that he used to take when he was still physically active.

But then the scent vanished on Chestnut Street.

A few days later, another canine search got a hit near the Carter Lumber store on Route 27 in McGonigle, almost 10 miles southeast of the Capel home.

"We're at a standstill. Our leads have dried up," Oxford Police Sgt. Jim Squance said.

There are theories about what happened, but given the lack of evidence, they are closer to guesses.

Perhaps Charlie went outside to get the newspaper, got disoriented and wandered. The fact that the front door was left open makes Janice think that he intended to come back. Alzheimer's had caused him to fumble with locks and keys.

Other scenarios are more difficult to consider.

Maybe Charlie, in an agitated or depressed mood, decided that he wanted to leave. But why didn't he take his bifocal eyeglasses?

Maybe he tripped or fell into a ditch or suffered a heart attack. But why hasn't anyone stumbled across his body?

Maybe he wandered into an empty rental house - Miami students are gone for the summer. But why hasn't a landlord called?

Police have sent missing-person bulletins to every city that the Capels ever lived in, including Pullman, Wash., where Charlie was briefly stationed during his service in the Army.

Again, no leads.

Meanwhile, the Capels wait for a break in the case.

After staying with their mother for the past month, the Capel sisters have returned home to their own families. June put the couple's house up for sale and then moved to an assisted-living center near Oxford.

While they were together, the family grew closer, Gail said. They prayed together often - Janice is an ordained Presbyterian minister.

But they grieved privately, choosing to deal with the crisis in their own ways.

Gail, admittedly, is the most emotional: "I'm still in a stage of shock, which, of course, is a protection against grief."

Even though there have been moments of great sorrow, the Capel family has decided that they must go on with their lives, as difficult as that may be.

They wish to thank the community for its support, and if any good can come of this experience, the family hopes it will draw attention to Alzheimer's disease and the issue of wandering.

"I was always very proud of my father, and still am," Gail said.

Anyone with information about Charlie Capel should call the Oxford Police Department dispatch center at 1-513-524-5240.

Capel, 81, is bald with a gray beard, 6 feet tall and weighs 185 pounds. When he left his house May 21, he might have been wearing a baby blue stocking cap.

E-mail mleingang@enquirer.com