Vanished on Richards Street: The Unsolved Disappearance of Sarah Elizabeth Avon

On the warm evening of July 21, 1981, six-year-old Sarah Elizabeth Avon walked out of her Joliet, Illinois neighborhood and straight into the shadows of one of the state’s most heartbreaking mysteries. It was around 9 p.m., and the sun had just begun to dip below the horizon when Sarah and her younger sister joined friends where Richards Street came to an end. A small disagreement broke out between Sarah and a playmate. Frustrated, Sarah walked away—likely with every intention of returning home.

But she never did.

Sarah was wearing a “Joliet District” soccer t-shirt, blue jogging pants with red and white stripes, and blue tennis shoes with a white stripe. She was four feet tall, just 45 pounds, with dark blonde or light brown hair and warm brown eyes. A little girl in every sense of the word—innocent, playful, probably stubborn in moments like many first graders. But that night, something happened that forever altered the course of her family’s life—and the fabric of an entire community.

The days that followed her disappearance were filled with desperate searches, posters, pleas, and questions that outnumbered answers. The tight-knit community clung to hope, but Sarah didn’t come home. Days turned into weeks, then years. Now, over four decades have passed without resolution.

The primary person of interest in Sarah’s case was William “Billy” Redden, a local man with a troubling past. His connection to the case has remained unclear, but suspicions have never fully faded. Redden died in 2010, taking with him any secrets he may have held. And just like that, what little momentum the case had all but evaporated.

There are no confirmed dental records, no fingerprints, and—perhaps most tragically—no preserved DNA on file for Sarah. It’s as though she simply vanished into thin air. But we know better. Children don’t just disappear. Someone knows what happened. Someone saw something. And someone may still hold the key to ending this family's decades-long nightmare.

As I write this, I can’t help but think about the sisters—two little girls playing outside on a summer evening. One returned home. The other became a cold case.

What does justice look like when decades pass without answers? When the person of interest dies? When the trail goes cold? For Sarah’s family, justice begins with remembrance. With keeping her name alive. With the refusal to let time silence a mother’s heartbreak, or a community’s outrage.

Sarah Avon mattered. She still does.

If you have any information, no matter how small or long ago it may seem, I urge you to contact the Will County Sheriff’s Office at 815-727-8575. Sometimes, all it takes is one memory, one overlooked detail, one conversation to spark movement in a stagnant case.

Sarah deserves that. Her family deserves that.

And so, we keep telling her story.