It was a cool October morning when Audrey Desjardins emerged from the Nabisco plant in St. David's, just north of Niagara Falls.
She'd worked the night shift -- midnight to 8:30 a.m. -- and was tired and a little fed up. For good reason. She'd been on nights seven years, sticking labels on fruit tins as they moved along an assembly line.
It was tiring work, but a pretty good wage -- $14 an hour. And well-paying jobs were hard to come by for someone with only a high school education. She and Flavie Grenier had worked together for seven years, but had known each other much longer.
Audrey was 44, Flav was 52. They lived on the same Welland street, close friends who shared a passion for bingo. They talked about a lot of things --work, family, shopping. But Audrey rarely opened up about her childhood, though, there was lots to share.
She was one of 17 children who grew up on a farm in Dunnville. It was a troubled childhood and her relationship with her parents had broken down 25 years earlier when she took her newborn daughter home for a first visit.
But on that cool October morning, all that seemed far away. Her husband was better now, after a lengthy illness, her daughter had recently married and her son was in college. She and Flav climbed into Audrey's 1985 burgundy Crown Victoria, the Ford her husband had bought her for Mother's Day.
The streets of Niagara Falls were coming awake with people on their way to work and kids on their way to school. During the 20-minute drive to Flavie's home, she and Audrey talked about the trials of working nights.
"I told her to go home and have a good sleep. I always told her that. Then I said: 'See you tonight."' Flavie waved goodbye as her friend drove away.
Then Audrey Desjardins disappeared. Like a ghost. That was more than a year ago. No one has seen a trace of her since.
There was no suicide note. No signs of foul play. No one has come forward with information. Her car has never been found. The $5,000 in her bank account remains untouched.
Her sisters and brothers have spent countless hours trying to solve the mystery. They've retraced their sister's steps. Her sister Joan Nuxall, of Hamilton, even hired a psychic. Still nothing.
Audrey the caring, reliable, fun-loving mother of two, who loved to crochet afghans, who won second place at the Simcoe Fair for her white tablecloth, who would do anything for her family of sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews, disappeared without a trace.
Even though she sometimes battled depression, her friends and family refuse to believe she's dead. She always found a way back. Above everything else, she was a fighter.
Her disappearance has been difficult for the family. They were a close-knit group who stayed together, and helped each other through thick and thin. There's no closure when a person goes missing.
Says Joan, "I think about her every morning. For some reason, she's always on my mind first thing when I wake up. There isn't a day goes by that I don't think of her in the morning."
More than anything what's kept the Hartsell family believing she's alive are the phantom phone calls. Flavie has received them, so have several of the sisters and Audrey's 25-year-old daughter, Judy. There's a haunting silence at the other end, as if whomever is calling wants only to hear their voice.
Judy started receiving the calls a few months after her mother disappeared.
During the last call, "I said: 'Mom is that you? If it's you, please say something."' But there was only silence.
© 1997 The Hamilton Spectator. All rights reserved.