Missing on Mass & Cass

Original story By Annalisa Quinn, published in the Boston Globe Magazine


Living in Boston, the intersection of “Mass and Cass” is mentioned regularly on the news and by politicians. Many people have anecdotes of the things they have seen while driving past. Annalisa stopped, and talked with people, again and again and again. She asked about the systems the create the systems and listened to people who most of us don’t have time for. Her editor said she had the story, but she kept returning to Mass and Cass and listening.

Read the original story here, and the reaction commentary here, and the odd subplot here.

A photograph of twin sisters Courtney and Kerri Flynn is held up near Massachusetts Avenue with BMC in the background

Courtney Flynn has spent thirteen years looking for her twin sister.

Kerri Flynn began using pain pills after their brother Ryan died of an overdose in 2013. Their mother died of breast cancer the following year. Kerri has been living with addiction on the streets of Boston since.

Courtney filed a missing-persons report at the C-6 station in South Boston after her sister disappeared for months. She handed out fliers around Mass and Cass, checked shelters and clinics, looked under bridges, and tried to obtain a Section 35 order committing Kerri to treatment. Officers told her they see Kerri regularly and that she is not, in one officer’s phrase, missing missing. Without Kerri seeking help, they said, there was nothing they could do.

Courtney Flynn, who has been searching for her twin sister Kerri for 13 years, poses for a portrait in Braintree

What Courtney learns comes from strangers and arrives late. One person said Kerri had gotten into a car with a man two weeks earlier. Another said she was working downtown. Another warned that girls in the area were being hurt.

The sisters last saw each other in South Boston Municipal Court, where Kerri appeared sober and weighing about ninety pounds. They exchanged birthday texts in March, Kerri writing from a sober home. She disappeared again shortly after.


Bryan Hogan's bedroom at the family home in Wareham, MA. His mother Jan said he always kept his room clean and neat. Bryan has been missing for more than four years, and his parents have stayed in the house rather than downsizing in case he comes home.
Bryan Hogan’s bedroom at the family home in Wareham, MA. His mother Jan said he always kept his room clean and neat. Bryan has been missing for more than four years, and his parents have stayed in the house rather than downsizing in case he comes home.
Jan Hogan holds a framed photograph of her son Bryan
Chris Hogan holds a photograph with "Dad & Bryan" written on the back
Jan Hogan holds a framed photograph of her son Bryan and Chris Hogan holds a photograph with “Dad & Bryan” written on the back

Bryan Hogan was 39 when he disappeared more than four years ago.

He had struggled with substance use since a car accident at 18, when he was prescribed morphine. He once told his mother that the first time he used cocaine it felt like home. There were stretches of sobriety before he vanished: kayaking with his sister, a family wedding, a job at a package store.

In February, after a methadone appointment in Brockton, Bryan refused to enter detox. His parents, Jan and Chris Hogan, tracked his phone as it moved to an abandoned camper in the woods off Route 28, above a river, with snow on the ground. When the signal stopped moving, his high school friends organized a search. They found the phone inside the trailer. They did not find him.

His bank accounts have gone untouched for four years. Sightings have been reported around Brockton and Mass and Cass, none confirmed.

The Hogans have handed out fliers at the AHOPE needle exchange on Albany Street and belong to the Facebook group Missing on Mass Ave, where Jan posts messages to her son. They would like to downsize their house in Wareham. They have not, because, as Jan puts it, leaving would feel like an abandonment.

Jan and Chris Hogan embrace outside their home in Wareham as they wait for their missing son Bryan to return
Jan and Chris Hogan stand outside their home in Wareham, where they have waited more than four years for their missing son Bryan to return
Jan and Chris Hogan
A torn missing persons flyer showing Bryan Hogan's eyes is pinned to a bulletin board alongside other handwritten notes and pleas at the AHOPE needle exchange.
Jan Hogan holds her son Bryan's phone, showing his last text messages to her
A graffitied sharps disposal container marked with a biohazard symbol stands outside the AHOPE needle exchange in Boston
Plainclothes police officers wearing blue gloves stop and question a man against a wall on Massachusetts Avenue
Plainclothes police officers question a young man

A discarded tourniquet and syringe caps lie in the gutter on Bradston Street near Mass and Cass in Boston
A Boston Public Health Commission officer stands outside the Southampton Street Shelter
A person walks past a Food Bank sign and a leaning stop sign on Southampton Street near Mass and Cass in Boston with the city skyline in the distance
The shadow of a person crossing the street at the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Melnea Cass Boulevard in Boston
Graffiti and drawings cover a light post at the corner of Massachusetts Avenue and Melnea Cass Boulevard in Boston
A person walks across the traffic island at the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Melnea Cass Boulevard in Boston
A view down Massachusetts Avenue toward downtown Boston near the intersection known as Mass and Cass
A pile of trash at a bus stop on Massachusetts Avenue near the health center in Boston