“It’s so funny you called,” Susan Billig says. “I was starting to get the feeling people in Florida had forgotten we have a missing child.” The child is her daughter, …
www.sun-sentinel.com
Article dated December 19, 1993
AMY'S ONLY HOPE
"It's so funny you called," Susan Billig says. "I was starting to get the feeling people in Florida had forgotten we have a missing child."
The child is her daughter, Amy, who apparently was abducted from a sidewalk in Coconut Grove when she was 17. Amy is 36 now - if she is alive. Susan Billig devoutly believes she is, even as she faces a 20th Christmas without her daughter.
"I know she is alive," she told a reporter in 1979, five years after Amy disappeared on March 4, 1974. "I know it. I would feel it if she was dead."
Nothing that has happened in the intervening years has changed her mind.
Amy's father Ned has died, her brother Joshua has grown up and given Susan Billig a granddaughter. Susan herself, now 68, has been diagnosed with
lung cancer and has not only outlived her doctor's longevity predictions by a year, but still works as an interior designer. "I suffered a bigger death losing her than I ever could with this cancer," she told a reporter. "I only feel alive when I'm searching for Amy."
By 1979, after five years of searching, tracking down every rumor, every tip, every lead, Susan had concluded that Amy had been abducted, beaten, raped and enslaved by members of the Outlaws motorcycle gang - and she still believes that today.
In most conversation, Susan is bold, salty and animated, but her voice is quiet, dry, almost rote when describing her perception of Amy today.
"She has no idea who she is," says Susan, imagining Amy's mental state. "She doesn't speak."
The reality is, no one who's saying anything knows Amy's real condition.
"People say, 'She's at a better place,'" Susan says. "They're trying to comfort me, but they're saying my daughter is dead! People ask me, 'Wouldn't you rather have a finality, know that she's dead?' I say, no, dead is forever. I'd rather have my child. Whatever she's been through, she's still my child."
Almost from the beginning, when the posters and flyers went up on walls and telephone poles all over Coconut Grove, Susan's devotion was regarded by some as an obsession. Her conviction can be persuasive. Edna Buchanan, the crime novelist who followed the case as a reporter with the
Miami Herald, says, "Common sense tells you Amy must be dead, but Susan convinces you she could be alive."
SUSAN BILLIG IS SEATED AT THE dining table of a large, comfortable house near The Falls shopping center in Cutler Ridge? Kendall?, speaking to various parties on a portable phone. The interior designer is working on a house gutted by Hurricane Andrew. A housekeeper bustles from room to white-tiled room as Susan, punching out another series of numbers on the phone, resumes discussing chandeliers, oval bowls and "something nice" for the dining table.
Her voice is bold and assertive. She knows what she wants and wants it her way, but she ends each conversation brightly, with the words, "I love you." Her eyes are startlingly blue. Her hair gray-white and cropped. She has a realistic, tough-minded demeanor that, some say, deserts her only when the subject is Amy.
In the late '40s, Susan was a jazz singer. Her future husband, Ned, who died last March, played jazz trumpet. They were married in New York and wanted children from the start. But they were unlucky. They tried for 10 years. Susan had four miscarriages before Amy was born in Long Island on Jan. 9, 1957. Joshua followed on Valentine's Day the next year. The family moved to Coconut Grove in May 1969, "because of the violence" in New York, and opened an art gallery called Dimensions on Commodore Plaza. It was the first gallery of contemporary art in the Grove, and it did well.
The Billigs were New Yorkers, creative people who knew Greenwich Village, Provincetown in the summer, Key West in winter. When they moved to the Grove, they brought that New York sophistication with them.
But their daughter Amy was innocent. "They were a wonderful family, smart and creative, steeped in that freedom of openness of those times in the Grove," says a family friend.
Susan and Ned were regulars at the Taurus bar and restaurant on Main Highway where the patrons were boaters and arts people and the music was folk and jazz. Their teenage daughter was musical too. Amy played the flute at a local concert the night before she disappeared.
Amy Billig had warm brown eyes under dark brows, a mane of brown hair, very white teeth and an open, wide smile. At 5 feet 5 inches and 102 pounds, the 17-year-old vegetarian was slim and leggy. She wrote poetry and admired Sylvia Plath. A senior at Adelphi Academy in Coral Gables, she read voraciously. She played guitar as well as flute. She loved babies and animals. She volunteered her time with the Dolphin Project. She was a happy girl who knew she was loved, and as a result, she was filled with trust. She would smile and say: "Mosquitoes don't bite me because they know I love them."
AMY WAS LAST SEEN IN COCONUT grove around noon on Tuesday, March 4, 1974. She was wearing a short blue-denim skirt and cork platform sandals. Her grandmother, Susan's mother, was visiting from New York. After Amy drank a glass of orange juice and went off to school, Susan and her mother straightened up the house and went to lie in the sun at Tahiti Beach, now a housing development on Biscayne Bay.
Amy came home shortly before noon and found no one there. She telephoned her father at the gallery and asked to borrow $2 so she could go to lunch with friends. Ned told her to stop by the shop. Amy changed her blouse, ate some yogurt and then walked to the gallery, which was less than a mile away, just a block down
Poinciana to Main Highway, then about half a mile to Commodore Plaza in Coconut Grove's village center.
"I think she was standing on the corner of Poinciana and Main Highway and somebody gave her a lift," Susan Billig speculates. "A biker."
Dozens of bikers had rumbled through the Grove that day, five abreast, on their way to the motorcycle races at Daytona Beach. Would Amy have trusted a biker for a ride?
"She trusted everyone," Susan says. "She was a flower child."
Adds a family friend, "I have a vivid recollection of this little angel child who used to hitchhike around the Grove in a micro-miniskirt. It looked very enticing, a serious advertisement for someone on two wheels to be attracted to. Yes, I think some bikers came by and she hopped innocently on the back for a ride and has been on that ride ever since."
If someone saw her hop onto a Harley, no one has come forward. Ned Billig thought Amy had changed her mind when she didn't show up at the gallery. She never met her friends for lunch. She didn't come home for dinner, and she didn't call. That was unlike her. At 8 p.m., her mother called Mike Gonzalez, a family friend who was a homicide detective with the Miami Police Department.
He told the Billigs not to panic, that 99 percent of missing children return home safely. He said to call him in the morning if Amy had not returned. At 6 a.m., Susan called Gonzalez again.
"I am very resentful to this day that they didn't do a more in-depth investigation," Susan has said about the Miami Police. "I wanted helicopters in the sky. I wanted policemen walking hand in hand through vacant lots."
Instead, the Billigs and their friends walked vacant lots, searched in every alley and under every shrub in Coconut Grove looking for Amy. As the implications of her disappearance sank in, the search broadened. Commercial pilots and flight attendants placed posters in airports across the country. The Billigs each reacted differently to Amy's disappearance. Josh, Amy's brother, was 16 at the time. "Josh became very quiet, inward," Susan recalls. "He changed his friends. He seemed not to want to be with people who knew us. Ned and I went into therapy - Band-Aid therapy - just to keep us alive day to day."
Susan coped with the pain by continuing to search for her daughter. Tips about bikers and Amy focused her investigation. Twelve days after Amy's disappearance, a tipster claimed members of the Outlaws had abducted her. Two Outlaws, bristling with hair and jingling with chains, came to the Billig house with a bail bondsman whose daughter went to school with Amy, and their leader promised Susan, "If she is in the Outlaw Nation, we'll return her."