When tragedy strikes, the world often pauses, holding its breath for answers—especially when those missing are children, emergency responders, or well-known community members. But what happens when the missing are people on society’s margins, or a lone tourist far from home? Two recent cases—one in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and another in Kavala, Greece—underscore the uneven attention, urgency, and compassion that missing persons cases can evoke, depending on who is lost and where.
On August 9, 2025, Milwaukee was battered by a torrential downpour, the kind meteorologists soberly call a “1,000-year flood.” The Kinnickinnic River, usually a manageable waterway, surged out of its banks, transforming the city’s underpasses and low-lying areas into dangerous torrents. At the intersection of South Chase Avenue and South First Street, seven people—residents of a homeless encampment—were trapped under a bridge as the water rose. Their frantic attempts to block the flood with clothing failed as the river overwhelmed the guardrail, turning their refuge into a perilous whirlpool.
James Makurat, who had lived under that bridge for five years, described the chaos to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: “I was in the middle, and there were three people next to me at the end.” He managed to scramble up an embankment to safety, but when he looked back, his friends were gone. “I miss my friends, and I know they are gone,” Makurat said, his grief palpable in the aftermath.
In the days that followed, the city’s response was markedly subdued. According to Milwaukee Journal Sentinel reporting, families and homeless advocates said five men from the encampment were missing after the flood. Two bodies were recovered: Juan Carlos Sierra Campos, 48, was found on August 10 in Lake Michigan. Authorities said his death did not appear to be flood-related, though the investigation continues. On August 13, the body of Isaias Serna, 72, was recovered from the Kinnickinnic River. The Milwaukee County Medical Examiner’s Office stated his death was possibly related to the floods.
Yet, despite the scale of the disaster and the missing men, authorities declined to launch an active search for the remaining individuals. The reason? No one had witnessed them being swept into the river. The city’s stance, as relayed by Mayor Cavalier Johnson’s office, was that they could not take action until emergency services made a decision. The police, for their part, have been silent on how they determined Campos’ death was not flood-related, and did not respond to further inquiries.
For the families, this official inaction was devastating. On August 23, relatives of Miguel Flores, 59, took matters into their own hands, searching the Kinnickinnic River by kayak and on foot. They found his backpack, wallet, keys, and shoes in the water. “I’m sure he’s in the river somewhere,” said Arturo Vazquez, Flores’ nephew, as quoted by the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. A makeshift memorial of deflated balloons, candles, and flowers was placed on the overpass where Flores was last seen.
The question of responsibility hung in the air: Should it fall to families, police, or emergency services to search for the missing? With authorities passing the buck, the search was left to those with the least resources. As Makurat reflected, the transient nature of homelessness means someone usually knows the whereabouts of others on the street. If a person is missing for over three weeks and isn’t in the hospital or jail, it should raise alarms. “Anytime someone goes missing for more than three weeks, if they are not in the hospital or incarcerated, it should raise red flags,” he said. But in this case, the city’s response was tepid at best.
Contrast this with the case of Michele Bourda, a 59-year-old British woman who vanished on August 1, 2025, while visiting Ofryni beach in Kavala, northern Greece. Michele was last seen swimming with her husband, Chris Bourda, before he dozed off on the sand. When he awoke, she had disappeared. A missing persons alert was issued by the local charity Lifeline Hellas the next day, warning, “Her life is in danger.” The search drew attention from local authorities, the British Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office, and international media.
Tragically, on September 4, Michele’s skeletal remains were discovered in the water, about 40 kilometers from the beach where she vanished. The remains were identified early the next morning. Chris, her husband, told Greek outlet Protothema: “I am truly devastated. I did everything I could to identify my wife, because there were only bones. There is no head... A tragedy.”
The case, however, was not without controversy. Chris Bourda filed a complaint against Greek police and the coast guard, alleging a criminally slow response and mishandling of the investigation. “I have already filed a complaint against the police and the coast guard because they were criminally slow to deal with my wife's disappearance,” he told Protothema. “Valuable time was lost and she could have been alive.” The British Foreign Office confirmed on September 11 that they were supporting Michele’s family and in contact with Greek authorities.
Michele’s disappearance and the subsequent search were marked by a level of official involvement and cross-border attention rarely afforded to those like the missing men in Milwaukee. Her husband described her as a former IT professional, a mother, and someone who had overcome psychological struggles. He dismissed any suggestion that she had vanished intentionally, stating, “She would never have needed to do something like this. Moreover, we were very happy together; we had no problems.”
Both cases raise uncomfortable questions about whose disappearances command attention and resources. In Milwaukee, the lack of urgency in searching for missing homeless men stands in stark contrast to the international response to a missing British tourist in Greece. The difference is not just in geography, but in how society values certain lives over others. The families of Milwaukee’s missing men, left to search for their loved ones with little help, are a stark reminder of the gaps in compassion and action that persist in the wake of disaster.
As the days and weeks pass, the pain for those left behind remains raw. Whether in Milwaukee or Kavala, the loss of a loved one—no matter their circumstances—deserves dignity, attention, and a real effort to find answers. The stories of those missing, and the responses to their disappearances, challenge us to consider how we measure the worth of a life, and whether we are doing enough when the unthinkable happens.
