Tuesday’s Sun Journal cover story didn’t shock Dick Moreau.

Well, maybe Moreau was a little flabbergasted that a man largely regarded as a career criminal by townspeople in Livermore Falls, Jay and surrounding communities would be granted positive publicity.

What didn’t surprise Moreau one bit was that Calvin Tidswell found a way to charm and deceive thousands more people who weren’t acquainted with his “game,” a game that Moreau says is about control.

So Wednesday’s follow-up story reporting Tidswell’s arrest on a charge of aggravated trafficking in cocaine didn’t stun his former neighbor, either.

“I know about his past and about the type of head games he likes to play,” Moreau said. “His whole way of life is to manipulate people.

“I can’t look you in the eyes and tell you that I know for sure he is responsible for what happened to my daughter. But you go by his past reputation and you look at it from that perspective.”

Kimberly Moreau was the youngest of three daughters to Dick and the late Pat Moreau. Eighteen years ago next month, on prom night at Jay High School, she disappeared.

Local police initially treated her case as a runaway. It was four months before the status of her disappearance was changed to missing and endangered and subsequently was listed with the National Crime Investigation Center.

Her remains have not been found, and the investigations (yes, plural) continue to this day.

Maine State Police Detective Mark Lopez leads the official search.

Privately, with the help of friends having a police background, Moreau has interviewed more than 100 people and canvassed the tri-county area with signs alerting area residents as far away as Lewiston/Auburn and Leeds to the cold case.

Recent activity included a canine search near the Moreau family home on Jewell Street in Jay and forensic testing on a Pontiac Trans Am, the car in which it’s believed Kimberly was riding on the night she disappeared.

Through many interviews, police have concluded that Brian Enman of Dixfield was the last person to have seen Kimberly the night of her disappearance. It is known that Kimberly had an argument that Friday with her boyfriend, Mike Staples, and spent portions of that night and Saturday riding around town and visiting with friends and acquaintances.

Possibly including Calvin Tidswell.

Out of control?

“Tidswell has always been a suspect,” said Barry Romano, a friend of the Moreau family. “He’s kind of a control freak. I have a teacher friend who knew him back in junior high school and he’d say things like f— you right to this guy’s face. Back then you could put your hands on a kid, so he picked him up right by the hair and dragged him off. The parents would just say, ‘Yeah, he’s been doing that a lot lately.’ I think the parents were scared of him.”

During the 1980s, Tidswell, now 45, owned an arcade in Livermore Falls next to the police station. High school students flocked to him.

“That’s how he got his in with a lot of kids in town,” Moreau said. “And when he was in, he had control. With him, it’s all about control.”

The worst part for Moreau about his daughter’s disappearance is how much he cannot control. Having learned to accept the belief that Kimberly is dead, Moreau has said that he doesn’t believe the death was intentional.

What eats away at him is the likelihood that more than one person has harbored the crucial details in their heart for years, holding onto the missing piece that would provide his family’s closure.

Moreau is so certain that Tidswell could be that person that he contacted him this winter to ask if he would volunteer for an interview. Tidswell consented. Romano said that meeting was scheduled to take place this month.

“You would not believe the time and effort Dick has put in,” Romano said. “When Tidswell said he’d talk with Dick, that seemed like a breakthrough. Everybody in town knows that (Tidswell) along with Mike Staples and the Enman guy were the last people seen with Kim.”

Now, says Moreau, control is completely in the hands of the police. And in some, small, cruel way, once again in Tidswell’s own hands.

Door closed, for now

“I don’t think I’d even be allowed to talk to him at this point,” Moreau said. “He’s sitting somewhere and they’ll deal with him as they see fit.

“If I had a chance, sure, I’d talk to him. I don’t care. I know the game. He’d try to turn it into a head game, just like he did with (the newspaper). You want to play the game with me? I’d play his game to a point, but I’d have the upper hand.”

Moreau underscores that he is not accusing Tidswell of any wrongdoing, nor does he profess any desire for revenge. God, he says, will avenge Kimberly’s death in due time.

Now retired and widowed, Moreau wants to give his mother, whose health is declining, a chance to go to her grave knowing that Kimberly was given a proper burial.

“I’m not out to hang anybody. Kim is my baby. Her mother died of cancer two years after she disappeared,” he said. “My father died (in 1987) trying to find her. My whole drive is to get my daughter home. If anybody has to pay, that’s out of my hands.”

With his next interviewee now behind bars, Moreau returns to the things he and his community can control. There’s a benefit dance at the VFW Hall in Jay on April 17, followed by a candlelight vigil on Wednesday, May 12, at St. Rose of Lima Church.

And he hopes the two distinctly different stories about Tidswell represent the break he’s been waiting for.

“Everything in life happens for a particular reason,” Moreau said. “When my daughter comes home, there are only three things I have to do. One is have her buried next to her mother and grandfather. Two will be to get all the pictures and posters taken down, which is an act of victory. And three will be having one heck of a celebration, one that’s open to anyone who ever helped out or so much as said a prayer.”

Moreau asks anyone capable of providing a clue that ultimately could trigger that celebration to call him at 897-4895.

Kalle Oakes is staff columnist. He may be reached by e-mail at koakes@sunjournal.com.

Copy the Story Link