Why CaseTrace Had to Exist
I have followed missing-person cases for as long as I can remember. Early in life, I wanted to be a detective. I was drawn to the search for answers, the details that matter, and the hope that one piece of information could change everything.
Title: Why CaseTrace Had to Exist
I have followed missing-person cases for as long as I can remember.
Early in life, I wanted to be a detective. I was drawn to the search for answers, the details that matter, and the hope that one piece of information could change everything. But life went in a different direction. I started working in IT at 18, and that became my path.
Still, the desire to help never went away.
Over the years, I found myself following cases from behind the scenes. Reading updates. Watching interviews. Checking sources. Seeing families plead for attention. And almost every time, I was left with the same question:
Where can I actually help?
As a civilian, that answer is not simple. Missing-person cases are sensitive. Families are hurting. Investigations have to be protected. And good intentions can quickly become harmful when people start spreading rumors, theories, or unverified details.
That is what has always bothered me about parts of the true-crime world.
Public attention can help. Podcasts, videos, and online communities can bring visibility to cases that desperately need it. But that same attention can also create noise. Rumors spread. Speculation gets repeated as fact. People make accusations without evidence. Families are forced to deal with theories instead of support.
That never sat right with me.
Some cases have stayed with me more than others. Amy Mihaljevic, Brian Shaffer, and Tyler Davis are three of the biggest cases I have followed, especially because of the Ohio connection. When a case is close to home, it hits differently. These are not just names online. They are people, families, communities, and unanswered questions that stay with you.
I also know there are advocates in this space who are beyond amazing. People have spent years helping families, sharing cases, organizing information, and keeping names visible long after the world has moved on. CaseTrace is not meant to replace that work. It is meant to support it in whatever small way it can.
That is why I built CaseTrace.
The idea is simple:
Share the flyer. Check the source. Avoid rumors.
CaseTrace is built for responsible visibility. Not speculation. Not internet detective work. Not turning missing people into content.
The goal is to make it easier to share verified case details, keep faces in front of people, and point everything back to the source whenever possible.
Some parts of the website may feel repeated. The flyer links. The source reminders. The sharing tools. The captions. The case details.
That repetition is intentional.
Missing-person awareness depends on repetition. A face has to be seen more than once. A name has to keep moving. A flyer has to reach different people in different places: Facebook, X, texts, community groups, printed flyers, case pages, and search tools. The more responsible shares, the better.
I know CaseTrace may never help solve a single case.
That is hard to say, but it is true. There are no guarantees. But I would rather try to build something useful than keep sitting on the sidelines wondering where I fit.
This has not been easy.
I am not a programmer by trade. I work in IT, but building a full application is a very different world. It is a specialized area I avoided for a long time. Over the past six months, I have learned more than I ever expected — and struggled more than I expected too.
There have been bugs, crashes, broken pages, confusing errors, and plenty of “oops” moments. I am sure there will be more. But I will keep doing what I can to improve the platform and make sure the facts and faces are shared responsibly.
CaseTrace is still early. It is not perfect. But the mission is clear:
Keep missing-person cases visible. Make them easier to share. Keep the focus on facts, sources, and families.
This is also a big week for CaseTrace.
There is potential for more exposure, and I will be sharing more details soon. A major update is also in progress that, if I can work through a few final bugs, will move the site much closer to what I originally hoped it could become.
We are also planning a contest of sorts. I know that may sound unusual for a missing-person awareness platform, but the purpose will be tied to visibility and responsible sharing. More details are coming soon.
There has been a lot of self-doubt along the way.
I have questioned whether I am the right person to build this. Whether anyone will care. Whether agencies will trust it. Whether families will understand the mission. Whether I am taking on something too big for one person trying to figure it out as he goes.
And honestly, I think some people I have shown it to probably thought I was crazy.
Maybe they were just being polite. Maybe they did not know what to say. But I could feel the hesitation. A missing-person awareness platform built by someone who is not law enforcement, not a programmer by trade, and not backed by a big organization probably does sound a little crazy from the outside.
But I keep coming back to one thought:
If I care this much, I should at least try.
The missing-person world does not need more noise. It needs more responsible visibility. More source-checking. More people willing to help without making themselves the center of the story.
The doubts are still there.
So is the determination.
CaseTrace is my attempt to make a difference in the missing-person world. It may not be perfect. It may not become anything huge. It may not work the way I hope.
But it is a shot.
And after years of watching from the background, wondering where I could help, this is the most meaningful way I know to try.
Explore CaseTrace
Browse the live case feed, search the Explore page, or open a flyer to share a case responsibly.
Open CaseTrace