Family still wonders about man missing since 1958
Amissing man named William Frederick Seiler has been on my mind lately. His granddaughter, Tracy Seiler, made a plea on social media recently to anyone who might be helpful: “If you recognize him, even by a different name, please contact me. I’d love to know what happened to him.”
We have exchanged emails, she with a longing for closure, I as a would-be detective.
This is a very cold case getting colder, but here is what we have:
On Oct. 6, 1958, Bill Seiler went to the Carlton House Downtown to meet Mark Alexander, a potential investor in his business. Mr. Seiler, 35, was in plastics manufacturing.
His family last heard from him that afternoon when he called his wife, Rose. She reported to The Pittsburgh Press that “he sounded awfully happy.”
Rose was at home at 1125 St. Martin St. in the South Side Slopes with their three children. Her husband’s wallet was found on the Smithfield Street Bridge. His white 1958 Chrysler was found in a parking garage on Seventh Street. Mr. Seiler was never found.
“Tons of rumors ran through the family about what happened to him,” Ms. Seiler told me. “The only thing everyone seems to agree on is that he didn’t commit suicide and he liked to gamble.”
An unidentified clergyman called the police after receiving Mr. Seiler’s parking claim ticket in an anonymous envelope. A newspaper in the car was opened to the racing section. A garage attendant told police Mr. Seiler was carrying a wad of cash.
The story remained in the papers for a few days.
Some family members think Bill Seiler may have gone into hiding with a secret.
Tracy Seiler said her older relatives refuse to talk about the case, but her cousin, Sandy Seiler, has researched the disappearance as part of her genealogical work. She learned the investigation was taken on by Lawrence Maloney, an assistant superintendent of city police at the time who was later accused of racketeering but acquitted at trial.
I called retired Pittsburgh police Cmdr. Ron Freeman, a police historian, to see if he remembered the Seiler case. He didn’t, but he knew Mr. Maloney as “a corrupt individual. I remember him requiring us to buy uniforms and equipment from one vendor and we found out he was getting kickbacks from them.”
Mr. Freeman called several retired officers who might have remembered the Seiler case and said they all showed an interest but could recollect nothing.
I asked him whether Maloney may have taken the investigation in order to quash it because he had something to do with Mr. Seiler. Mr. Freeman said Mr. Maloney could have exercised some malevolent influence over the case, but he was circumspect about that.
David Reich was a prosecutor for the U.S. attorney who worked on the racketeering case against Mr. Maloney. Despite the acquittal, Mr. Reich said he was sure he was guilty; racketeers testified that Mr. Maloney took money from them and that anyone who reneged got a visit from “Maloney’s Marauders,” who smashed their doors.
“The Maloney Marauders made him a prominent public figure who had the appearance of being a crime fighter, and I think he valued that image,” Mr. Reich said. “I have no reason to speak highly of Maloney, but I’m not inclined to accuse him [of having anything to do with Bill Seiler’s disappearance]. Some cases just don’t get solved.”
Sandy Seiler, whose father was Bill’s brother, said she has hit “a brick wall” investigating her uncle’s disappearance.
“I know that the family claimed him legally dead after seven years,” she wrote to me, “but I spent the cash to check on his death certificate. The return reply was ‘None found.’ ”
Closure is the last word in the chapter of a life, and the unfinished chapter of Bill’s in the Seilers’ book is poignant to me as I think of my own father. Although unknown to each other, the two men were born six months apart and both served in the U.S. Army in World War II.
My father died in 1985 and has been much on my mind since, but I have the comfort of knowing that he was with family when his chapter ended.
Some cases don’t get solved, but the last words in Bill Seiler’s chapter are out there somewhere.