A Beautiful Child

by Matt Birkbeck

  Living in Iowa City and working for PDI was John Price, another ex-con from Mobile, Alabama, who served time for possession of an unregistered shotgun at USP Atlanta in 1971 and 1972. Price was one of the original organizers of the Church of the New Song, which by now had opened an office in Iowa City. The Church also had flophouses throughout the country, one of which was in south Chicago.

  Letters written by Henry Harbison and later recovered by Shelley and Shannon revealed Harbison’s interests and participation in the Church of the New Song. Harbison knew Jerry Dorrough from a previous stint at USP Atlanta in 1968. Harbison was also friendly with John Price. But it wasn’t clear how they met and, despite the best efforts of the sisters, the connections ended there.

  By January 2003, Shelley and Shannon hit a dead end in their search for Freda and her two children. All they knew was that Henry Harbison, his wife, Freda, and their two children had disappeared, and that Henry was an active member of the Church of the New Song.

  The Independence, Missouri, police offered the sisters little assistance aside from providing the file on the case. The sisters’ research into the Church of the New Song provided some interesting clues, but little else. With nowhere else to go they turned to the Doe Network.

  During the course of their search the sisters had turned to the Internet for help and found several websites devoted to missing persons. The best of the bunch was the Doe Network.

  Created in 1999 by Jennifer Marra, a Michigan woman who took an interest in missing-persons cases, Marra began to post photos and file information on her new website. She soon attracted queries from others interested in the plight of missing persons in America, particularly members of a cold case chat group who met regularly on the Yahoo! website.

  The Doe Network posted a photo of the missing person, along with pertinent details, which were confirmed by law enforcement surrounding the disappearance, and a contact number for anyone with information.

  By 2001 Marra bowed out and the site was taken over by several members of the cold-case chat group from Yahoo!. By 2002 the Doe Network had attracted the attention of law enforcement and had, though unintentionally, become a vital resource in the search for missing persons. The Doe Network had 277 members and received more than one thousand hits per month. It listed 2,220 missing persons and operated out of the homes of the network of volunteers that spanned around the globe.

  Shelley and Shannon found the Doe Network while surfing the web, and decided to contact one of the volunteers, Angela Ellis, to share their story.

  Ellis immediately listed Freda, Sherri Lynn, and Michael on the Doe Network, posting photos of all, along with Henry Harbison.

  They then searched through the Doe Network files, and Shelley and Shannon and Angela made a startling discovery: A listing for a Sharon Marshall and her son Michael, along with photos of both. The little girl sitting on Franklin Floyd’s lap in a distant photo from the mid-1970s resembled the equally distant photos of Sherri Lynn. They weren’t exact matches, but familiar enough for Shelley to contact Ellis and tell her of the suspected match. Ellis had already seen it herself, and she contacted Gerry Nance, asking if he’d talk to Shelley Denman. Nance said fine. Ellis forwarded Nance’s e-mail address, and Shelly responded, explaining her story. Before speaking with Shelley in March 2003, Nance called the Independence police for background and was told there was no point in pursuing this, that Henry Harbison and his family had left of their own free will.

  Nance relayed that information to Shelley, and added that in order for the National Center to become involved in the investigation he needed the police to input Sherri Lynn into the NCIC database, but the Independence police refused.

  “Did their response blow us out of the water?” asked Shelley.

  “Pretty much,” replied Nance, who said that the Independence police chief, Bill Trotter, provided information on the case that was pretty convincing that Sharon Marshall could not be Sherri Lynn.

  But Nance wasn’t convinced, and he decided to take matters into his own hands.

  During the summer of 2002, I received an e-mail from an acquaintance who was combing through the Doe Network website when she happened upon the photo of a cheerless little girl sitting on the lap of an equally cheerless man in a suit.

  Described below the disturbing photo was a horrendous story: a convicted felon, fugitive, and pedophile named Franklin Floyd who apparently kidnapped the girl sitting in his lap, raised her as his daughter, later married her, and presumably killed her and her young son. The girl, who had many names during her short life, had never been identified, despite the dogged efforts of several police agencies and the FBI.

  Making the story even more heartbreaking was the photo: There was no doubt, given the pained expression of the girl, something was terribly wrong.

  Intrigued, I researched the story for several months, my interest not necessarily in Franklin Floyd but in the girl, who was known as Suzanne as a child, Sharon as a teenager, and Tonya at the time of her death.

  For now, we’ll call her Sharon.

  By October 2002, I had spoken to several people familiar with the case, including retired FBI Special Agent Joe Fitzpatrick. His feelings about Sharon, Floyd, and Michael were still very raw, even seven years after Michael’s kidnapping.

  It was clear after but a few minutes on the phone that the case touched Fitzpatrick in a way no other investigation had during his lengthy career. He was cautious, talking to a reporter, but there was no doubt that he was pained, particularly with the inability to discover Sharon’s true identity.

  Terry Magaro shared that pain. The former teacher at Forest Park High School still lived in the Atlanta area and spoke admiringly of Sharon, describing her beauty and brilliance in the classroom. Yet Magaro was haunted by the events that transpired so many years ago, and she was still unable to explain why Sharon kept her terrible secrets to herself, never trusting anyone to help.

  In November, following Floyd’s conviction for the murder of Cheryl Commesso, I contacted his attorney in St. Petersburg, Florida, and requested an interview with his client.

  Several days later Floyd called from the Pinellas County prison. I told him I was considering writing a book, though I didn’t give him too many details during our twenty-minute conversation. He agreed to talk to me at a later date, though he told me in no uncertain terms that he would never reveal Sharon’s true identity or the fate of her son Michael. He also denied killing Cheryl Commesso. Floyd was unfocused and rambled throughout the conversation, in one breath saying he wasn’t such a bad guy (“I’m no Ted Bundy,” he said) then in the next breath he’d say “no body, no crime,” indicating there was more to Franklin Floyd.

  My next call was to the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children, which had become the preeminent authority on missing children in America.

  After several phone calls I was directed to Gerry Nance.

  Nance was somewhat familiar with the Floyd case since the National Center had an open file on young Michael Hughes, but he was unfamiliar with the details. Nance was a quick study, and after several weeks was up to speed on Floyd and Sharon Marshall and, like Joe Fitzpatrick, Terry Magaro, and others, was both perplexed by and admired Sharon.

  Through Nance I learned more about the National Center and received an overview of missing children in America.

  By February 2003, I had begun my research in earnest and traveled to St. Petersburg to visit Franklin Floyd.

  Floyd had remained at the Pinellas County prison longer than expected as he awaited his transfer to death row at the state prison in Raiford. When I arrived on February 18 the deputies from the sheriff’s office took me inside to a room reserved for inmates to meet their attorneys. There were no windows in the rectangular room and but one door. Inside, a long table filled the room. Floyd stood behind the table, surrounded by several deputies, his hands cuffed behind his back. He didn’t look like much, and upon first glance I was struck by his nonthreatening appearance. H
e was near sixty years old and appeared weak, his skin pale white. Floyd brought paperwork with him, perhaps six inches thick, and asked for and received permission to have his handcuffed hands in front of him so he could flip through the pages.

  When I arrived at the prison I hoped for enough time with Floyd, maybe twenty minutes, to describe him and write down some quick responses to several questions. Instead I spent four hours with Floyd, alone, with a guard outside the door.

  Like he did during his interviews with police over the years, Floyd spoke without interruption and became irritated whenever I tried to get him to pause so I could ask a question. I let him talk, which he did for ninety minutes, and he explained his life, from his days at the Baptist home through prison and on the run with Sharon.

  As he did during our phone conversation in November, Floyd reiterated that he would not discuss Sharon’s true identity, the whereabouts of Michael, or the Cheryl Commesso murder.

  But during the interview he touched on all.

  He was complimentary of Sharon and recalled how she called for her “daddy” as she was transported to the hospital after she was struck.

  “That broke my heart. In her unconscious state she called out to me to help,” said Floyd.

  And like a proud “parent” he relished her accomplishments in high school as he pointed to copies of her report cards.

  “I’m telling you straight out, she was a perfect child. Just like an angel from heaven. She didn’t complain, she didn’t whine, she didn’t cry, she didn’t beg. I don’t mean she didn’t get her feelings hurt when I was going to leave her at that orphan’s home. I’m saying she was dependable, she cleaned, she loved everybody, she loved God, she had faith in Santa Claus, she defended me, she protected me, she tried to find me work then got on them for not paying me. She was so special that when she saw me she made up her mind that I would be her daddy. I told her I can’t do it, I don’t know nothing about girls. But I said I will take you because I don’t want him to strangle you. I knew he was going to do that. I heard that.”

  Floyd wouldn’t tell me who “him” was, nor would he explain anything of his other statements, which didn’t make much sense.

  Included among his paperwork was a photo album with pictures of himself and Sharon at a St. Louis Cardinals baseball game sometime in the early 1980s.

  “I was a Cardinals fan,” said Floyd as he flipped through the album, pointing to photos of Sharon holding Michael when he was an infant. The mother and son appeared to be close, with Sharon holding her son face-to-face, smiling at him while Michael returned the smile with equal affection.

  Floyd’s demeanor changed as he gazed at Michael’s picture. He talked about how much he loved the boy, then dismissed Sharon, saying “I raised her and all, but I was never really attached to her. I was attached to Michael.”

  Floyd claimed to have given the boy to a shadowy underground group who took him out of the country, first to Europe then later to South America. Communication with the group, said Floyd, was accomplished through advertisements in USA Today.

  Floyd pulled out letters he had written in his jail cell to Michael, rambling declarations of love for the boy and promises to one day reunite.

  He returned to his stack of papers, and he changed the subject from Sharon and Michael to Cheryl Commesso.

  Having represented himself during his trial, Floyd was given access to all the prosecution files and exhibits given to the defense via discovery. Amongst the paperwork were the startling and horrible photos of Cheryl Commesso as she was being tortured.

  Floyd proclaimed his innocence, and spoke about Commesso without any regard to the suffering endured by the young woman. Instead he argued that the FBI illegally “cropped” the photos, and they should have been ruled inadmissible in court.

  “I was framed, I tell ya,” said Floyd.

  He pushed his paperwork across the table. Included were official letters from the Baptist home and from the various prisons where he had been incarcerated, along with family information, court documents, and records of Sharon’s schoolwork, including report cards and test scores.

  It was, quite literally, a treasure trove of information, and I left with copies of all his paperwork, some of which was of great value and included in these pages.

  A week later Floyd was transferred to death row at Raisford.

  The following day I sat down with Robert Schock and Mark Deasaro.

  Schock had retired from the St. Petersburg police and was now working for the State Attorney’s office. He was a soft-spoken, gentle man who was kind enough to take me to all the important sites, including the area where Cheryl Commesso’s remains were recovered.

  I was also provided with interviews, court transcripts, and other valuable information, without which I could not have told the story of their investigation. I visited St. Petersburg a second time in March 2003, and it was there I learned that a new lead had developed in the search for Sharon’s identity.

  I was told that a family from Missouri searching for several missing relatives made a connection that possibly involved Franklin Floyd. It had to do with the husband of the missing relative, who may have served time in prison with Floyd. The family had recently contacted Gerry Nance at the National Center. I called Nance and asked him if he could put me in touch with the family. Nance said he’d get back to me.

  From St. Petersburg I flew to Atlanta, Georgia, where I interviewed several of Sharon’s teachers from Forest Park High School. Their feelings and memories, some seventeen years after Sharon graduated, were unmistakable and vivid, and served to reinforce that Sharon was indeed special.

  It was in Atlanta where I met Jennifer Fisher.

  Jennifer had married for a second time, her name now Jennifer McElhannon. She had four children and was living and working in her hometown, serving as the head of IT purchasing for a large media company. I initially spent six hours with Jennifer, and she recalled every last detail of her friendship with the girl she knew as Sharon Marshall. Jennifer gave life to Sharon, her memories clear and vivid. Jennifer also provided me with a folder full of paperwork, several photos and two letters from Sharon.

  Two weeks later, in early April, I visited with Gerry Nance at the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children. I had spoken with Nance regularly since our first phone contact in November, and I came to appreciate his knowledge and his help. I knew nothing about missing kids in America, yet Nance obliged me, answering every question that came his way.

  He also put me in touch with Shelley Denman and her sister, Shannon Kaye Stevens.

  The two women had searched since 2000 for Shelley’s missing sister-in-law, Freda Denman Johnson, and her two children, Sherri Lynn and Michael, who disappeared in 1974.

  The sisters had provided photos of the family to the Doe Network, and upon first glance there was a physical resemblance between Sherri Lynn and Sharon. They had the same style hair, with bangs on the forehead, though Sherri Lynn was a brunette and Sharon a blond. The timeline seemed to fit, with the family last seen in November 1974 and Floyd first appearing with Sharon, then known as Suzanne Davis, in 1975 in Oklahoma City.

  Prior to arriving at the National Center I had several conversations with Shelley and Shannon, and became very interested in their developing theory that perhaps Franklin Floyd met Freda’s husband, Henry Harbison, in prison. All the sisters knew was that Henry was an apparent member of the Church of the New Song, and that he knew another church member, another ex-con named John Price.

  The sisters had retrieved Harbison’s prison record from Alcatraz, which was a matter of public record given that he served time there in the 1950s. All records of Alcatraz inmates, along with any other incarcerations, were now part of the national archives. Those records indicated that Harbison and Floyd did not meet in prison, having served their sentences at different facilities. It was a setback, but there was other information that strengthened the belief that Sharon Marshall could really be Sherri Lynn Johnson.<
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  Jennifer Fisher McElhannon allowed me to take her folder of papers and letters and photos of Sharon, two of which were taken during the summer of 1986 during Sharon’s emotional return to Atlanta.

  Sharon bore a striking resemblance to Freda Denman, whose photo had been posted on the Doe Network.

  In early April I visited the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children. I spent two days there and came away with a profound sense of admiration for the people who worked there and their commitment to missing children.

  Nance took the two photos of Sharon given to me by Jennifer Fisher McElhannon and had them analyzed by his forensics imaging department. While not definitive, their conclusion was they could not discount that Sharon was Sherri Lynn given the clear likeness between Freda and Sharon.

  In addition, the imaging specialists compared photos of a four-year-old Sherri Lynn prior to her disappearance and of a five- or six-year-old Sharon soon after she came into custody of Franklin Floyd. Again, there were no discernable features that would discount the possibility that they were one and the same.

  Given the resources at the National Center, including their relationship with Bodetech labs to provide DNA testing, I told Nance that Sharon’s old friend Jennifer Fisher gave me two envelopes sent to her by Sharon in the 1980s, the original stamps still affixed to the envelopes. Would it be possible to secure Sharon’s DNA from the stamps?

  Nance believed it was possible, but to move forward with any testing he first had to have Sherri Lynn Johnson listed with the National Center. Since the Independence, Missouri, police closed the case in 1975, Sherri Lynn had never been entered into NCIC. The sisters, Shelley and Shannon, asked the Independence police to place Sherri Lynn in NCIC and contact the National Center for assistance, which would give the National Center jurisdiction to open a file. The Independence police refused.

  Convinced that he was on to something, Nance broke protocol and opened a file on Sherri Lynn anyway.

  I had also begun reviewing the paperwork given to me by Floyd during our interview in February and found a letter from the Oklahoma firm that harvested and donated Sharon’s organs the day she died in 1990.