My name is Kimberly Parr. I like my cases cold and old.

I grew up in a leafy Maryland suburb of Washington, DC, the oldest of three girls. Our dad was head of the Presidential Protective Division for the US Secret Service. I write about him here. Mom was an attorney, and later, a federal judge. We attended White House receptions, and once spent Christmas at Camp David with the Carters. This was all undeniably special, but the most memorable event of my childhood had nothing to do with the Washington elite, and everything to do with two girls who vanished on my 13th birthday.

Katherine and Sheila Lyon, 10 and 12 years old, walked to our local shopping center on a cool spring day in March 1975 to share a slice of pizza. When hours passed with no sign of them, their parents called the police.  When days passed with no sign of them, grown-ups panicked and reined us all in. We were scared witless and didn’t resist.   

No one had witnessed a struggle or heard a scream. Hundreds of police officers and volunteers searched woods, ponds, sewers and vacant lots. Posters with their photos were distributed nationwide. As weeks went by and hopes for their recovery dwindled, a resigned sorrow settled over the region. Six months after Katherine and Sheila disappeared, the biggest criminal investigation in Montgomery County history quietly folded. No trace of them was ever found.

The incident sparked my interest in unsolved crimes, but nothing I've read, heard about, or conjured since has chilled me quite like the disappearance of the Lyon Sisters. Those of us who were kids ourselves at the time never got over it.

Here's my article on the Lyon Sisters case -- How it impacted our lives, how it was ultimately solved, and what it taught me about cold cases.

For more than 25 years, I toiled as a copywriter/broadcast producer/public relations director for the advertising industry. It was exhilarating, challenging, demanding, and left very little time for much of anything else. After a great run, I walked away at the top of my game for a civil service job that freed me to spend more time with loved ones, friends, my garden, and my writing.  I've now settled at the junction between history and true crime, choosing to focus on lesser-known, unsolved cases and mysteries that still have the power to shock. 

Is there a cold case you feel deserves a second look? Or a third? Tell me about it at kim@icecoldcases.com. We'll take a deep dive together, and maybe discover something new and important.  Because nothing is cooler than cracking an ice-cold case.