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Tonight on Dateline. We lived in a fairy tale where everything was perfect. First day of school. Then all of a sudden there's that demon, that black spirit, that darkness. He just points the gun at my forehead. The first thing I started thinking of was my children. At first I was like, what does kidnapped mean? My dad was stolen by bad guys. I lost everything that I knew just like that. Gone. Gone.
It was such a mystery who was behind this. It was just tearing me apart. I was suffering so much. I just said I would do everything humanly possible to get your father back. If it takes everything we have, everything I can humanly do. I saw things that no 12-year-old should see.
A family at the center of a harrowing hostage drama. What would it take to survive it? I mean, just the cruelty, incredible fear and agony. Like, when is this going to end? All the hell that we went through together and all the pain. It has made us unbreakable. I'm Lester Holt, and this is Dateline. Here's Keith Morrison with The Ranch.
The green and white taxi barreled down the highway. Something was wrong. Why had that man paid ten times the fare for a simple package delivery? The cabbie pried open the envelope. Was that someone's finger? And why was that man now tailing him? Cold fear rising, he pulled into a gas station. He begged the police, "Come quick!" But the cabbie had no idea, any more than this family did.
that their terrifying story, more than a decade in the making, was about to come to an astonishing climax. I was 12 years old. 12 years old when it happened. And then all of a sudden you meet the dark in life in a really ugly way. It's hard to imagine how we would be like if none of that happened. They're delicious now, yeah. I never go into detail. It's always like, well, something happened. Now I'm here.
And here is where it happened to the Valseca children, San Miguel de Allende in Mexico. A little slice of paradise is what it seemed like to them. Like my mom used to call it our little bubble. Honestly, I was living my dreams and then some. This is their mother, Jane. J-A-Y-N-E, by the way, a detail that will matter later.
My whole life I had worked as an actress and did a lot of television commercials, bit roles in movies and soap operas. And then 1992, it happened. Pure chance. Well, it's kind of like one of these fairy tale stories. She was 25. She was at a payphone near Washington, D.C. when she just happened to lock eyes with an art dealer named Eduardo Valseca.
Who, she would find out, was a divorced dad of two and the offspring himself of a famous Mexican newspaper baron. Colonel José García Vaz Seca, who founded over 40 newspapers in Mexico. He was one of the biggest newspaper people, publishers in the country. Would be an equivalent in the United States of who? William Randolph Hearst, probably, yeah.
That's when García Velsécar ran his newspaper empire from a luxury Pullman train car, the one which, decades later, Eduardo owned. Though when he invited this beautiful woman he just met to Mexico for a train ride, she had no idea that the train was his. We're walking toward it.
And then this man comes out with a white jacket, white gloves, black bow tie, with a silver tray. I mean, I was completely speechless. She soon discovered the train car was about all Eduardo had, a family fortune. The rest, along with the newspaper empire, had long since withered away. But Jane fell for a man, not money.
And what Eduardo lacked in fortune, he replaced with laughter and passion and a huge enveloping personality. Jane was in love and soon married and swept off to Mexico. One thing Eduardo's heritage did afford them was the chance to live anywhere they wanted in Mexico, and this is where they chose. San Miguel de Allende, a colonial town, a place so lovely it's attracted people from all over the world to come here and live.
Jane and Eduardo loved fixing up and selling old houses. So, they made that their business. And they made children. It had been a big dream of mine to live in the country and have a big organic garden and fruit trees and horses and lots of animals for the kids to play with. It was luck when this place came up. A run-down ranch in foreclosure. Perfect.
Every little bit of money that we made, everything that we could manage to save, we started putting into the ranch. They built a real ranch house among the mesquite trees and surrounded it with fine big gates and outbuildings, a garden for her, a riding ring and fine Spanish horses for him. And, no surprise, part of their building plan involved that stately old railroad car. One of the marvelous parts about ending up with this piece of property was it just happened that
The railroad track went right through it. Jane was behind their home movie camera as the car was towed to its new home on the ranch. And for three growing children, a magic place, happy and secure. Fernando, Emiliano, and baby Naya. 100%, yeah, it was paradise. That baby is now all grown up.
I remember we used to have a cage full of rabbits, like tons of bunny rabbits, and that was my favorite thing. Middle child Emiliano remembers a life lived outdoors. I didn't really have an Xbox or a PlayStation or anything.
You know, electronics. I had dogs. I had a donkey that would take me to school every morning. How was that possible? Jane wanted the children to get an education beyond what public schools here offered, so she and Eduardo founded a Waldorf school, built it right on the ranch, recruited other families to join them.
Jane Zeldes Fernando loved that school. It was my mother's pride and joy. We knew every single student that went to that school. Everybody on the faculty. It was a big family. Every morning, the half-mile commute down their own quiet country lane to school had become a family ritual. And the morning routine was singing all the way to school.
which was really the only routine that we had. So now, it was that perfect morning, June 2007, and they bumped and sang, noisy and happy, down the dusty road. And of course, they did not understand, how could they, that this was the last moment of pure innocence any of them would ever know. When we come back...
A violent awakening. Immediately we're hit from behind. He just points the gun at my forehead. The first thing I said to him was, please don't kill me, I have three children. A terrifying road was ahead and a journey that would test them all. I lost everything that I knew about life, just like that, gone. You have to know that I will do everything humanly possible. If it takes everything we have, everything I can humanly do. ♪
You know, life was so good for so long for us that it was almost like living in a fantasy. It was almost like on a daily basis, pinch me, is this real? It was June 2007.
Two weeks before summer vacation, Eduardo and Jane Valseca and their three children arrived at the country school not far from their ranch house outside San Miguel de Allende in Mexico. As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that there was a small compact car in the far corner of the parking lot. And there was a man at the wheel who had a fisherman's cap khaki color on and glasses. A prospective parent, perhaps, for next year's class?
Jane walked the children to their classrooms. She stopped at the school office. And asked the administrator if she knew who the gentleman was or if he needed help. And she looked over and looked across the parking lot and said, I don't know who he is. He must be waiting for someone. Eduardo was behind the wheel of the Jeep, listening to the radio.
The stranger's car was beyond it, at the back of the lot. As I walked to the Jeep, I looked across and made eye contact with him and actually smiled. And he smiled back. Eduardo put the Jeep in gear, pulled away. The strange car fell in behind them. A pickup truck comes out of nowhere. It catches up to us and the man driving turns and looks at us. And the look...
was really scary. You saw it? We both got just a really creepy feeling, just the way the man looked at us. Now that stranger's car in the pickup raced to positions beside and in front of the Jeep. Eduardo said, something is definitely not right. What is this guy doing? And then in moments it was obvious. Jane and Eduardo were being chased, herded like cattle into a chute with no escape. In the distance we see the compact car that has raced up our interior road.
Cut in front. Here she relived it, the horrified moment as the car in front of them suddenly stopped and Eduardo slammed on his brakes. We immediately were hit from behind. And at that point, it was a split of a second, and there was a man coming out of the passenger side of the car, coming at Eduardo, and he's got a hammer in one hand and a handgun in the next. The masked man shattered the window, landed a hard blow to Eduardo's head that sent blood gushing down his face. The first thing I started thinking of was my children. Are my children going to...
lose their parents right now? A second attacker ran at Jane, yanked open her door, pulled her from the jeep. She screamed, kicked at him, grabbed the fence beside her. The barbed wire sliced through her finger. Her attacker forced her down.
While I'm laying on the ground, he just points the gun at my forehead and tells me in Spanish to get up. The first thing I said to him was, please don't kill me, I have three children. Then they hustled Jane and Eduardo into a waiting SUV. Unseen accomplices snapped pillowcases over their heads and tightly bound their hands and feet. Eduardo was hysterical. I don't think he was completely hearing me. He probably had a concussion.
The SUV sped away. Jane tried to comfort Eduardo. One of the abductors threatened more pain. He kept yelling at him, shut up, you a**hole, or I'll give you another one. At that moment, eldest son Fernando was with classmates on a bus, right behind the SUVs. I saw the two cars fly down the straight road and take a left towards San Miguel. And it was weird to me to see two huge SUVs going that fast. You saw them being taken? No, I didn't see them being taken, but I...
They were in the two cars right in front of me, and I didn't know. I had no idea. In the SUV under that gagging pillowcase, Jane struggled to breathe. She reached out for Eduardo. I felt blood all down his arm. Then she felt the blood pouring from her own slashed finger. She tried to memorize each bump and turn as the SUV veered onto the highway towards San Miguel. Then, minutes later, pulled over, stopped. Someone yanked Eduardo from the SUV. He screamed. I hear the doors of that vehicle open.
And after I hear them shut, I can no longer hear my husband's muffled screams. Jane managed to lift the pillowcase hood just in time to see Eduardo vanish and realize she was alone. They'd all left. I was bound, so I threw myself over the seat, ended up in the floor, pulled myself up, opened the door,
and literally hopped as if I was in a sack race to the highway in flip-flops. An elderly man stopped to help. He had a machete, but no cell phone to call police. Frantically, Jane tried to flag down passing cars. All hit the accelerator, not the brake. I imagine it looked pretty scary to see a woman bleeding, desperate, bound in duct tape, next to a guy with a machete. Then, in sheer desperation...
Jane stepped in front of an oncoming bus. I jumped in front and I just put my hands up like this. And I hoped he'd stop. But no cell phone on the bus either. Now the bus driver flagged down a taxi. And the taxi driver called the police. I thought for sure that they would just, the police would run off in every direction, seal off San Miguel and we'd have him. End of story. But it didn't go that way. No, it didn't. Eduardo had been kidnapped.
And then, as if more terror was possible, police took Jane back to the place where she was abandoned, and there on the ground was a letter. It was addressed to her. Well, I realized that they'd spelled my name correctly. My name is Jane, spelled with a Y. So it was really scary to see on the envelope that they'd actually spelled my name right. Nobody spells your name right. No. And inside the envelope? The ransom note says, Senora, go home.
Open this email with this password and we have Eduardo. Eduardo is with us. Wait for our message to arrive. It was then she understood the kidnappers had been watching them, stalking them, researching every small detail. It immediately made me realize I needed to be very careful and very smart about the choices I was about to make. My husband's life was on the line. Coming up.
Reality sets in. What would she tell the children? I was confused. I was very confused. I didn't know how to take it, whether to cry, whether to be mad. And who would she turn to for help? I thought, this is what you're sending me to deal with this? When Dateline continues. Have a question or need how-to advice? Just ask Meta AI.
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For true crime fans, nothing is more chilling than watching Dateline. Have you ever seen such a thing before? For podcast fans, nothing is more chilling than listening. What goes through your mind when you make a discovery like that? And when you subscribe to Dateline Premium, it gets even better.
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Never miss a moment of the 2024 Olympic Games from Paris. For in-depth coverage of the athletes, events, and medal counts, download the NBC News app. Jane Valsika sat in the dirt by the highway on the outskirts of San Miguel de Allende. A cop helped her strip away the duct tape around her hands and feet.
She tried to staunch the blood from her injured finger, gashed on that barbed wire fence. She tried to tamp down the terror that grabbed at her throat. Jane had read about brutal kidnappings in Mexico City where victims' fingers were cut off and delivered with ransom demands. But this was safe little San Miguel, where Eduardo had always said... Do you think anybody's going to come out here in the country? You know, that's not going to happen.
But it had happened, and all she could think of was finding help fast. I'm sitting there in the dirt, in need of stitches, and at that point I have two cell phones going. But why? Wouldn't the police just take over? Well, no. Jane herself, in this supremely vulnerable moment, would have to decide which police, if any, she could trust to get her husband back. You can allow the local or state police to handle the situation.
You can go to the Mexican equivalent of the FBI, which is the AFI, or you can go to a private consultant that you have to pay out of your own pocket, and they will negotiate it privately. So as cars whizzed by and the dirt-caked blood dried on her skin, Jane placed calls all around the world to private companies that specialize in kidnap negotiation. They knew all the questions to ask. They said, how many vehicles were involved?
What did the notes say? Can you describe the people? What did their guns look like? Must be a sophisticated operation, they told Jane. Negotiating would be difficult and expensive. At least $2,500 a day, plus expenses. Far more than she could afford. So Jane decided to enlist the Mexican version of the FBI, the AFI, the elite unit of the Mexican police. She made the call, went back to the ranch, cleaned up her wounds,
and told six-year-old Naya and seven-year-old Emiliano that their father was on a business trip. I was confused. I was very confused. I tried to ask questions about the whole situation, but the best that I could get was a, you know, PG version of what was really going on. But Fernando was 12. He had to be told. And anyway, she needed him now. She told me this morning we were...
Both your dad and I on the way back from dropping you guys off at school, we were kidnapped. And they took your father. I just said to him, you know, you have to know that I will do everything humanly possible to get your father back. If it takes everything we have, everything I can humanly do. Suddenly, Fernando understood the speeding SUVs he'd seen that morning. I didn't know how to take it. I didn't know whether to cry, whether to be mad, whether to just shock.
Fernando fled then, went to a secret private place, a rise from which he could see the rest of the ranch. I grabbed the keys and threw on the helmet and went for a ride and started crying and bawling my eyes out. Jane, meanwhile, had one more crucial call to make to her mother, also named Jane. She lived in her own house on the ranch most of the year, but that day she was home in Virginia.
Jane called and she says mom sit down. I have something to tell you and of course I didn't sit down I said, what is it? And she said well Eduardo's been kidnapped. What's it like to hear that? Well, you know, I lost it I grabbed a suitcase and I threw in a toothbrush and I couldn't remember what I needed to take Now it was evening. I'm hoping that I'll get home like they've told me I'll open the email and
There will be a message, and whatever I have access to, they can have it all. Okay? Just give him back. So I'm at that point hoping this is going to be an open and shut deal in less than 24 hours. Jane got ready for the arrival of the federal AFI agent. The federal police had promised he'd move in right away and live on the ranch until he got Eduardo back. She felt like she was waiting for the cavalry to arrive. She let hope grow.
I expected him to roll in in some kind of bulletproof suburban, be big and burly and hopefully a little mature, and having done this quite a while. And then, finally, at 3 a.m., the office agent called. Could someone come and pick him up in town, he asked. He had come from Mexico City by bus. He looked like a high school or maybe freshman in college student with a backpack, a baseball cap,
glasses, tiny. And I thought, "What is going on? You mean this is what you're sending me to deal with this?" And so the first thing I asked him after shaking his hand was, "Are you armed?" And he said, "No." And I said, "Why not, for God's sake?" Seasoned criminals had engineered a seamless plan to steal her husband. And all she had on her side was a short, skinny kid with no apparent backup, no car,
and no gun. Coming up... She felt like her whole world collapsed. Kidnappers send a message from the shadows, a demand impossible to keep. Now I'm thinking that they're just going to kill him.
Jane stared at the kid from Afi with what could only be described as dismay. Her husband, Eduardo, had been kidnapped. She was frantic, and now the federal police had sent her an unarmed boy. The young man took one look at Jane, saw her disappointment, and then spoke. He had a very confident smile on his face, takes off his glasses and hat, and says, look.
Would you really want me arriving in a bulletproof Suburban and coming out with a machine gun? How would that look if you're being watched? We could be putting your husband at risk. The agent, Jane learned, was older than he looked, was an experienced hostage negotiator. He brought his weapon into Jane's house. It was a laptop computer.
He actually selected a place here in the dining room where he would be the only one to see his computer screen. He was in a spot where he could see all the goings on in the house. His name is a federal secret, his face a blank. Our interview request went to the highest level. We were denied. We do know he was constantly online with a team of agents in Mexico City, analyzing what clues they had, advising Jane's agent on strategy, not business.
Not just James' agent, of course. We have as many as 25 kidnappings at a time. And here in a giant room that looks like NASA, more agents track hundreds of surveillance sites around the country. But on day one, all that expertise coughed up only this one piece of very bad news. The people who grabbed Eduardo? They were almost certainly, said the police, part of a fringe Marxist political group called the EPR.
Jane's agent considered the evidence and offered a dismal prediction. This is not going to be over in 24 hours like you'd like. As a matter of fact, this is not a matter of days or weeks. Based on previous experience with this particular group, this is going to be months if you're lucky. What was it like to hear that? I thought I was going to go crazy. I thought for sure I'd have a nervous breakdown right then and there.
Jane's seven-year-old Emiliano looked on helpless. I remember opening the door and seeing that look in her eyes. What look? She felt like her whole world collapsed. And I could see that through her eyes. And I couldn't really communicate and try to help her because I didn't know how. In historic San Miguel, though Eduardo was a prominent local citizen, life went on as if nothing had happened.
even though he had been a known anti-poverty activist, a panelist on a local TV show. In fact, this is a recording of the very broadcast aired the night before he was taken. This is the host of the show, Lucy Nunez, co-owner of the TV station. But what was she able to do to free her friend Eduardo or find his kidnappers? Not a thing. How often was it reported on the television or radio?
No, we never said anything. A request, she said, from the federal police. They said no comments in the radio station, no comments in the channel because we don't want these people to be afraid or whatever and they could do something to Eduardo. So it was like...
Mouths closed, like everybody was acting as if nothing was happening. Everybody, perhaps, but Jane. Remember, the kidnappers said, go home, you'll get an email with our demands. But on day one, there was no email. Nor on day two, nor three, nor day four. And then, after five full days and nights of sleepless torture, Jane turned on her computer and read the news.
For the liberation of Eduardo Luiz, we are demanding the amount of 8 million US dollars. 8 million? "Send the money," said the email in US currency, $100 bills. Now I'm thinking that they're just going to kill him because I didn't have that kind of cash. Anybody familiar with the idyllic ranch here outside San Miguel?
Anybody who'd heard of Eduardo, scion of a famous publishing empire, might quite reasonably have assumed he was among Mexico's super-rich. The kidnappers made a mistake, though, because the wealth the Valsecas had was all in the property. And besides, whatever signing authority existed was with Eduardo, not Jane. They took the wrong Valseca.
I didn't have access to anything, really, beyond what was in our checking account. The fact of the matter was, the Valsecas were house poor. They'd put everything they had into the ranch. And at recession prices, even if she could sell it, she'd get a small fraction of $8 million.
There in the dining room, Jane showed the email to her AFI agent and realized he was not surprised. You know, Jane, you have to realize that this is the way this works. You're going to be learning the ropes here. They hope to get that amount, but this is where we start negotiating. The kidnappers set the rules. Rule one, Jane must communicate with them only through want ads in a specific newspaper. Her first ad, they demanded, would go in the animals and pets section.
She wrote, looking to buy a chow chow dog vaccinated with complete pedigree. They started out at eight million. What do you respond? We're very concerned for the puppy's well-being. And your request is beyond our economic possibilities. Just that and then waited and waited. Coming up.
At last, word from Eduardo. Heartbreaking letters. Harrowing photos. I opened up pictures that I wish I hadn't seen. And one agonizing phone call. I told him how much I loved him. And that I would do anything to get him back. When Dateline continues. Life at Jane and Eduardo's ranch was divided now into the joyous before. I miss you.
and the somber after. Jane's mother moved in with her daughter and the children clearly hurting. Emiliano had a meltdown saying that we were all lying to him. And at that point, it's really amazing how Fernando is such an amazing kid. He just put their beds together and he says, "Come on, Emiliano, we know dad's coming back, but we're not lying to you."
Jane decided she had to tell the two young ones the truth. There was no business trip. I still didn't understand. At first I was like, what does kidnapped mean? She said, look, your father has been taken from us by bad guys. And we need to keep this a secret. You may not tell anyone in school. Did you keep it a secret? I kept it a secret, 100%.
Why a secret? The federal agent knew the family was being watched, spied on, days and nights. If the kids talked, maybe the kidnappers would hear. We had a bonfire out on the cobblestones, and we were saying prayers for Eduardo. And suddenly, Jane says, get in the house, get in the house. And the office agent had signaled her in.
And he knew that there was somebody watching us nearby in the grass, which was really close by. Jane and her federal police advisor dutifully placed those bizarre want ads, saying they didn't have the $8 million U.S. ransom. And the response? A few weeks into the ordeal, Eduardo's kidnappers turned up the pressure. They began including in their untraceable emails letters from Eduardo himself,
I'm suffering more than I can manage. They beat me. They tie me up. I'm naked. I haven't eaten. I'm going crazy. I can't handle this torture anymore. It was horrible. It destroyed me. So she began selling things. First to go, the Spanish horses Eduardo loved so much, sold for a fraction of their value. I sold sheep.
I sold machinery. Everything I could sell, I sold. All at fire sale prices? Mm-hmm. I remember taking up all my money from my piggy bank and just giving it to my mom and saying, "Here, please just use this to get Dad back. I just want him back." All of it made hardly a dent. They wanted $8 million. She raised $20,000. They had started saying in their emails to me that if I didn't come up with the money on a certain date, that they were going to start cutting off his fingers.
And when Jane didn't, couldn't pay, the answer was swift. It said that I'd been fooling around enough and that Eduardo had sent me a package. She was horrified. Was it his fingers? The federal agent, afraid for Jane's safety, sent someone else to follow the kidnapper's directions to the buried package wrapped in plastic. And it was not severed fingers. It was a sheaf of IOUs signed by Eduardo.
With these, wrote the kidnappers, Jane could get a loan for the ransom. I was supposed to now hopefully be more successful in raising funds that way. Oh, she tried. But local businessmen dismissed the IOUs as likely forgeries. Summer passed.
And then, October, four months into his captivity, the children pulled out home videos and huddled in their mother's bed. For a long time, the kids watched it every single day after school. And sometimes when they weren't around, I'd go in and just watch the part where he blew me the kiss and said, I love you, again and again. I love you.
"Day of the Dead," revelers paraded San Miguel streets in November as the kidnappers showed Jane how near death they were willing to take Eduardo. The email: "Eduardo is going to receive his first gunshot in his left leg unless there is a change in the total amount offered to seven figures." It wasn't a bluff. A photo followed with the bloody proof. I snapped that day. I couldn't cry.
I didn't react. Did you see these photographs of Eduardo? I told my agent that he needed to start being my filter, that I would not be reading any more letters, and I would not look at any photographs if he wanted me to get through this and get through this sane. Nor did Jane share the photos or letters with the children, or so she thought. I completely understand where my mom was coming from, not telling me exactly what was going on, but I had this urge to know. So what did you do? I went on to her email and...
opened up pictures that I wish I hadn't seen. It was a picture of my father with no clothes on in a box with duct tape over his eyes, around his head. Oh my God. There was blood everywhere. What did you do with that information, that picture, that image? Kept it inside. Just kept it inside. Two weeks later, they shot Eduardo again, this time in an arm.
Then the phone calls began. I thought it would be someone disguising their voice, and that's what I'd been trained for. The agent had warned her it might happen, had even prepared dialogue for her to memorize, and kept this erase board handy so he could prompt her. But it wasn't the kidnappers who got on the phone. I was shaking. I didn't know what to do. It was Eduardo. But the things he said. This could not be the man she loved.
But it was. And then he started calling me names. You're such a bitch. How could you do this? It's my money. And it was more of the same that I'd been getting in the letters that they had forced him to write. She turned to the young federal agent. And he told me, Jane, you've been preparing for this. You can do this. Just relax. They knew, both of them. He'd been given a script to read.
We were both playing a role. After I answered the immediate questions and got the information that I wanted to make sure that they heard, which was very important to save his life, then I said, I changed my tone, and in came me. And I told him how much I loved him. I just kiss-missed him. And then I would do anything to get him back, and then the money didn't matter. I'd give everything I could.
And then I could hear his tone change completely, and it was the real him. He told me he loved me too, and then they hung up on him. A joyless Christmas arrived, and then New Year's. How long before they killed him? Coming up.
I kind of knew in my heart that I would never see my father again. Despair sets in. She threw the telephone across the room and hit the wall. She was so angry with them. Then, from the shadows, a light. Was there hope? Have a question or need how-to advice? Just ask Meta AI.
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They are the families of the missing in America. And they're desperately searching for answers. Somebody knows something. I'm Josh Banquets. Join me for season three of Missing in America. Listen carefully.
Because just one small detail might allow you to solve a mystery. We have seen miracles happen. Dateline. Missing in America. All episodes available now, wherever you get your podcasts. Gossip, as everyone knows, has a way of sneaking past even the most determined efforts of official secret keepers.
And soon, San Miguel de Allende chewed warily on a story that made the rounds. Eduardo Valseca kidnapped. He must have made enemies, went the story. And this was payback. He was probably already dead. Friends would say things to me like, Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry about Eduardo. We liked him so much. And speak about him in the past tense as if he were dead. Even on the playground, classmates told Jane's children to give up hope.
The little kids would go up to my children and say things like, "Oh, I heard your daddy's dead, that they found him in a plastic bag in the Parque Juarez." I'd say that was around the sixth month that I kind of knew in my heart that I would never see my father again. And even if they did... If he's going to come back sane, if he's going to come back crazy, if he's going to come back...
having to be in a mental institution. And Jane? Well, this is her mother, who heard Jane talking to the kidnappers. She would cry and yell at them on the telephone, and once when they hung up on her, she threw the telephone across the room and hit the wall and broke the phone. She was so angry with them. You can either collapse or challenge them.
Get sad or get mad. And as the time went on, she got angrier and angrier. And then Jane would turn on her computer to find messages from a man barely hanging on. I need you like never before. Help me. Be compassionate toward me. I can't take it anymore. She had troubles of her own, by the way. Breast cancer. But she kept that to herself. And as the ordeal continued, she occasionally slipped off to America for tests.
I just got there, I would have MRIs and blood tests and visits with the oncologist and whatever was necessary. And I'd get back on the plane and come back.
She got an idea. The kidnappers were obviously watching her, so Jane very publicly pulled up a moving truck, got out some bubble wrap as if she was giving up, leaving. She was packing up that furniture, and she didn't even tell me. I had to ask her, I said, are you moving? Are you going back to the States? Of course not.
But that bit of theater seemed to work. After that, moving the furniture around, the tone of the emails changed. To what? They began to drop the amount of money that they were asking. Now, instead of millions, the kidnappers demanded hundreds of thousands. That was money she might be able to borrow from some well-heeled friend.
So I started asking people and some people would tell me, yeah, sure, call me on such and such a date, but then I wouldn't get a, they wouldn't answer my calls or return my messages. Why? Well, that they somehow by helping me, they would expose themselves to this sort of a thing somehow. Eduardo's grown children from his earlier marriage did everything they could to help, but they didn't have that kind of money.
And so they all felt very alone as they tried to keep hope going at the ranch. I want you to look at the camera and give a message to your daddy because he's going to see this when he gets back. I love him so much and he's the best dad in the whole wide world and I know he's coming back soon. And then, quite literally, in the depths of their despair, something completely unexpected happened.
One person whom Jane had not approached for loans wrote a big check, demanded no repayment or collateral. There was one single condition: the benefactor's identity be kept secret. And Jane finally received the email she'd worked so hard to get. "We have a deal," it read. "Be ready to deliver the money." The final amount of the request of the family and police was withheld, a fraction of the original demand.
But it had to be in U.S. $100 bills, and it had to be done in secret. I had to go in and count it in a back room, make sure that everything was all in order. Then she called on her acting skills, stuffed down her anxiety, and walked out of the bank. A couple people recognized me. This is a small town. Everyone knows you. Mm-hmm.
So I stopped and talked to people and even put the bag down on the floor between my feet as if it was a yoga bag. I felt like I was stuck in a movie that I couldn't get out of. The AFI agent refused the kidnapper's demand that a family member deliver the ransom. Instead, two ranch employees' brothers volunteered to deliver the money. But was Eduardo even alive? She demanded proof and got in return a heart-stopping photo. It was him, all right.
But the once robust, youthful Eduardo was now a gaunt, emaciated stranger. Would they let him go? She was at their mercy. Coming up... My stepson found our off-the-agent crying. Her worker kidnapped two. Now you've got no...
You've got no husband. You've got no money. That wasn't enough for them. Soon, their world would change again with a stranger at the door. My mom looks out there and she walks over to the window and looks closer. He could barely talk. He just whispered. When Dateline continues. Jane Valseca was desperate to get the ransom paid and free her husband.
As directed, she gave the satchel packed with cash to the brothers, dropped them at a designated hotel in Mexico City, and returned to San Miguel, while the brothers waited with the bag of money. Two days.
And then, finally, an email with instructions. Wear summer clothes, though it was winter. Mark a letter T on their car with duct tape. Bring no weapons, no cell phones. The address was a fried chicken place where they found a note taped to a payphone. More directions. And on it went. A macabre scavenger hunt from restaurant to convenience store to restaurant. Each stop with a note on a payphone and a map to the next location.
For hours they drove the giant city. In the final note, on the inside the note said, "This is a photograph. Make sure that the person that meets you at the next destination has the missing piece." It was the proof of life photo with a hole where Eduardo's face should be. He was instructed to go down a dark alley at a specific spot and meet this person who would have the other piece of the photograph.
Now the brothers understood it was at an end, and they followed the kidnappers' directions with absolute precision. There were eyes on them. They knew it. They pulled up to the end of an alley, as they'd been ordered. One of the brothers picked up the bag of money, opened the door, got out of the car, walked down the alley, and to the remaining brothers' horror, disappeared. A strange car hovered nearby as if to guard the exchange. It was a police car.
At the Valseca ranch house in San Miguel de Allende, Jane and the federal agent huddled around the dining room table and waited. Hours passed. An eternity. The tension in the room became unbearable. And then, finally, one of the two brothers Jane had sent to drop the ransom made contact. He was still sitting in his car at the mouth of that dark road.
He was terrified. Finally, the off-the-agent told the younger brother of the two who had gotten left behind to please go back to the hotel room and stay by the phone. The rest of that night and all the next day, Jane, the off-the-agent, and the young man in the hotel room in Mexico City watched the phone, willing it to ring. It did not. It took about 24 hours, and then I got an email. It said, in a cynical way, we have the person you sent with the money, we've counted the money, it's all there.
in unmarked bills as we had requested. But now, said the kidnappers, now they were holding Jane's employee and would keep holding him so that when they released Eduardo, he and Jane would have to cough up even more money to get that man back. Wait a minute, at that point now you've got no employee, you've got no husband, you've got no money. But that wasn't enough for them. These people not only want everything that you have, everything that you can sell, everything that you can...
get a loan for, everything that you can borrow. They want to take, they want to wipe you out. No one, not even the seasoned federal AFI agent, predicted the kidnappers would take the money and the man who delivered it. That agent was by now practically a member of the family. He'd befriended the employees chosen to go to Mexico City with the money. He'd been the cool one who kept Jane going through her months of crisis. But now, he left the room stunned.
My stepson came into the house shortly after. He found our off-the-agent crying in the back alley. They had failed. Had they killed him after all? And if not, where was he? The kidnappers promised Eduardo's release 48 hours after the drop, and there was no word, no call, nothing to suggest the kidnappers had or would make good on their claim. Here at the ranch, there was a family to care for. Life had to go on.
Two days after the ransom drop, in a sad, distracted ceremony, they lit candles on a cake and marked Fernando's 13th birthday. The only thing I wished for was, if my dad's alive, please just bring him back. And then the rest of the day, they tried to resume something like a routine. Routine in limbo, forced normalcy. There were small teeth to brush, bedtime stories to read.
The next morning, her heart heavy. Jane willed herself out of bed, got breakfast for the kids. As I'm clearing the dishes, someone walked by. It was very quick, and it was someone who looked very thin and frail and very, very old and had a baseball cap, fluorescent yellow baseball cap on, dark clothing. Now what? She knew the kidnappers had been watching the house. Was this one of them? Here was some fresh horror. Coming up.
Who was that quiet stranger, face to face with a ghost? He just felt so cold. It was literally as if he was already dead. Have a question or need how-to advice? Just ask Meta AI.
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For true crime fans, nothing is more chilling than watching Dateline. Have you ever seen such a thing before? For podcast fans, nothing is more chilling than listening. What goes through your mind when you make a discovery like that? And when you subscribe to Dateline Premium, it gets even better.
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Never miss a moment of the 2024 Olympic Games from Paris. For in-depth coverage of the athletes, events, and medal counts, download the NBC News app. It was her 16th winter in Mexico. Eduardo had been gone seven and one-half months. She'd sold what she could, sent the money, played her hand, and still didn't know. Had they murdered the love of her life after all?
It was morning in the kitchen. Jane stared out the back door of the ranch house in San Miguel. And that's when she saw it. There was a skeleton out there, a walking dead man. My mom looks out there and she walks over to the window and looks closer. It took a moment to register. It was Eduardo. She opened the door. I pulled him into me and put my arms around him and he just felt so cold.
It was literally as if he was already dead. And I just started kissing him all over his cheeks. He could barely talk. He just whispered and told me, I love you so much. It was as if his freedom had come at the last possible moment before death. And there by the door, as she held him in her arms, he begged her for her special banana pancakes. He said, when I was trying to dream about what it could be like coming back if I ever was able to,
I could always see you standing there at the stove and see you from the back, making my food. It was the morning after Fernando made his wish over his birthday cake for this very thing to happen. That's some birthday gift. Just grateful. Best birthday gift of my life. Got my dad back. I just sprinted down the hallway and I saw him in the kitchen kneeling down like this with his arms open.
And I gave him a hug and the first thing that I noticed was touching his bones and he was pale and he looked dead but conscious. I remember I didn't believe that that was my dad. I thought my mom hired an actor to play my dad.
The old Eduardo crept back into that cadaverous body, surrounded by his children, his plates of food, and the woman who fought for him every minute of those months, who cried for him, who saved his life, always Jane. He followed me around a lot. He wouldn't let me out of his sight, not even to use the restroom. He wanted to follow me everywhere. And here he was, restored. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror for seven and a half months.
I'm living extra hours now, he told us. But in those first hours of freedom, he found it hard to stand. He could barely walk. He had lost half his body weight, weighed barely 80 pounds, and could not believe how truly awful he looked. The first time that I saw myself against a mirror and I lifted my T-shirt, I pulled it back on immediately. I couldn't believe I looked like pure bones and skin. I just...
It was too much. Of course, given what he'd been through, he probably shouldn't have survived at all. The doctor who finally examined him noted late-stage severe starvation, liver damage, concussion, three broken ribs, and severe stomach infections. He hobbled around, bent and brittle, had to be supported up or down the stairs. It's like they sucked the life out of me. They just took everything away from me. Dead, in a way. Alive but dead. Exactly.
Exactly. And yet, within those first hours and days of freedom... He was already laughing and it was as if drip by drip, life was coming back into this skeleton. Kind of like the first day of the rest of your life. Completely. And then she'd see a cloud on his face or sense the torment in his dreams at night. He'd suddenly be haunted again. I have these flashbacks. I'm not sure if I'm dreaming or...
And is this true, that I'm out? Or is it just a reflection of my thoughts? I would wake up early every morning and go check that that wasn't a dream. I'd wake up, yeah. I'd run up to his room and knock and see him get up. Okay, he's back. But they all knew their living nightmare wasn't over. The kidnappers still held their employee, were still threatening the whole family with death. And Eduardo needed to tell James.
as he is about to tell us about his astonishing ordeal. Coming up... This is unbelievable. How do you keep your sanity? More than seven months in hell. Exactly what had he endured? I thought, this is it. He's going to shoot me. And then I started hearing these sounds, and I didn't know what he was going to do. When Dateline continues...
Eduardo Velsica is a charming and outgoing man. Do you have a message for us in the year 2000? With a ready laugh, an infectious zest for life. How, we wondered, given what you're about to hear, is that still possible? He calls it the box. So this is exactly the same size? Exactly. Exactly.
We built a replica, a precise copy of the miserable container in which Eduardo was held for seven and one half months. Here's where the air goes in. Here's where it's pumped out. You know, I wouldn't fit in this damn thing. No, no, no, no. Just like the original. The inside surfaces are covered in dark abrasive rug. A single bulb in the ceiling. An electronic eye watching.
The box is only slightly wider than our own shoulders, barely long enough to lie down in. This is unbelievable. How do you keep your sanity? When I first arrived here, I repeated myself over and over and over, "Calm your mind down." When he first came here,
That was the violent ambush in the Jeep outside the school. Then the bloody semi-conscious hooded ride that followed, a blind hustle into a building, up a stairwell, on someone's shoulder, the stripping of all his clothes, the sudden confinement in a box. Since the first minute, that's the only thing I ever saw, just that box. Then the vicious daily beatings and the rules. Rule one, no talking, ever.
Communication was by handwritten note. The kidnappers would signal when they wanted to enter the box. Always twice, always like that. And that was your signal to do what? To put a pillowcase over my head and immediately go like I am right now and put my head against the wall. So you never see their faces? Never, ever, ever.
They watched him on the webcam, kept him naked, fed him an occasional piece of fruit or a salad. A small bucket served as his toilet. It was rarely emptied. His kidnappers kept the light burning day and night, blasted the inside of the box with high-volume music. I said, "Please, just turn off the music, just once, please."
They say, if we turn off the music and you're able to hear what we talk about, then we have to kill you.
How loud was this music? Very loud, to the point that I lost 15% of my hearing on the right side. The beatings, said Eduardo, intensified each time he was ordered to write Jane a new letter, begging her to pay. He broke my bones and all that, just kicking me. I couldn't feel a shape of my head anymore. It was full of bumps. He secretly marked off the passing days on saved scraps of paper. Slowly, he starved.
If they gave him a bit of chicken, he'd eat the bone as well. An egg, he'd eat the shell. And the tortures intensified. The kidnappers sent him notes, telling him Jane didn't care about him, had moved another man into the ranch to live with her. And in the endless hours of coffin-like solitude, doubts ate at his mind.
They forced him to write those accusing letters to Jane, he said. And when she still didn't pay...
They gave him a note announcing they would shoot him. They came in, they covered my face, they handcuffed me, they put me face down on the floor. So they put a gun right on my leg and they shot me right there. And the pain is tremendous. It's like a bomb coming from the inside of your body out. Then two weeks later, again the announcement in advance: "You will be shot."
And so he thought of home.
Of his wife's banana pancakes, he imagined the faces of his children. I will hear Fernando saying that I miss you. And I will see Emiliano so confused. I will miss Naya seeing these beautiful green eyes. He was in his box for a total of 225 days. And then, one morning... He put me against this wall with handcuffs on. And I thought, this is it. He's going to shoot me.
I was hurt. And then I started hearing these sounds and I didn't know what he was going to do. But they didn't shoot him. Instead, they shaved him and dressed him and took the proof of life photo Jane was about to find in her email. And then they tied the hood back on his head and put him in a car and brought him here. They ordered, face the wall. It was a cemetery wall. To die? A voice behind him said...
Start counting. So I start counting from 1 to 200 right here. And did you get all the way to 200? Yes, absolutely. Oh, I was so scared. You know, I didn't want to screw it up. And then he turned around and they were gone. You had been in that box all that time. And here you are standing all alone in the middle of the night.
under the sky, what was that like? The first time in seven and a half months that I could feel the wind. And I could move my legs and just move away from the wall. And it felt really like walking on a different planet. His legs were so weak he stumbled and fell as he hobbled to a nearby road. He felt in his pocket a few pesos in there. He had no idea where he was.
Which is how, early that morning, Eduardo Valseca arrived at his own back door and asked his wife to make banana pancakes. Unmitigated joy and terror. Terror?
Oh yes, it wasn't over. I couldn't even relish in the moment having my husband back because we were still dealing with these people. Now remember, the kidnappers were holding Jane and Eduardo's employee, the man who'd volunteered to deliver the ransom and for his trouble was snatched at the drop site. So now a new round of email demands began arriving. We started negotiating. It was like the whole thing all over again.
But this time, the kidnappers promised to kill not just the employee, but the whole family. All of them. So, he's still terrified. I just couldn't believe it wasn't over. The federal police asked them to go to Mexico City to be debriefed by senior officials. But they weren't prepared. How could they be for what they'd hear there? Coming up.
The entire family suddenly in danger again. I lost my best friends. I lost my home. Everything changed. Every single thing that you could imagine. And the cruelest setback of all. That was the worst thing in my life. More than the kidnapping. That was terrible. Have a question or need how-to advice? Just ask Meta AI.
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Officials of the federal police listened very carefully while Jane and Eduardo told their terrifying story. But what the officials said in response was shocking and final. You must leave the country now, they were told, for your safety. Their guard hustled them back to the ranch, allowed 48 hours to prepare. And then, in a moment, it was over. They gathered what they could carry.
Left behind clothes and dolls and donkeys and dogs and bunny rabbits. And they left. Left forever. The kidnappers had left Eduardo alive, if barely. But Paradise? Paradise was lost. I lost my best friends. I lost my home. I lost everything that I knew about life.
Just like that. Gone. They came to America, to Jane's mother's place, to start all over again. I wanted change after that happened.
I wanted a new environment and I wanted change. We needed a reset button after everything. Everything changed from one day to another. Everything. Every single thing that you could imagine. It's literally two different lives. That kidnapped employee, by the way, the kidnappers simply released him. Nearly three months later, no ransom at all. The federal police continue to maintain that the kidnapping was the work of a Marxist revolution party called the EPR.
But there were no arrests. There were no answers. And gradually, the memory of their terror was mixed with nostalgia for the life they'd left behind. Which is in part why, a year and a half after Eduardo's release, he and Jane decided to return, with us, to their beloved ranch. But it had to be secret, Eduardo told us. No one could know they were coming.
Because you never know who is informing these people. Of course. Because they knew everything about the kids. They knew everything about us. So anybody could be there telling them, you know, here they're back. Bodyguards would come along too. A strange accessory now, given what a free and happy place the ranch used to be. That first night, though, in your old bed in the house...
Is that a little weird, getting back into that? Oh, it was great. I mean, really. Well, and I slept well knowing that we had bodyguards. It was just as they left it. Their clothes still filled the closets. Family portraits decorated their rooms.
Even the dogs greeted them as if their forced departure had been yesterday. There was a happy reunion at the school Jane helped found. They led her around the campus to show off the progress they'd made in her absence. Wow, it looks amazing. How painful that absence had been.
Their trip back to the ranch coincided with Eduardo's 61st birthday, so Jane hastily organized a fiesta with only close and trusted friends.
And they, in a magic evening, were transported back into the world they left behind, a world they loved. It was just wonderful. For Jenny and I, it was just like 100% therapy to go back to the place and feel happy about it and feel safe about it. It was fantastic. ♪
The unease, if that's what it was, that accompanied Jane and Eduardo back to their ranch in San Miguel had vanished. This was home, and it was tugging hard. Come back. And then, what just happened just now would happen? Okay, well, Eduardo came through the door with the lawyer and told me that now the entire train has been destroyed on the inside. It's been ransacked.
It was the Pullman car. Eduardo's inheritance from his famous father. The train in which he'd wooed Jane as they fell in love. He'd brought her to the ranch, a sort of magic shrine to their love and his past. Someone, well, they were right here at the ranch, had broken in. Smashed it up. They were being watched. It felt like a warning. And the police...
We called them. They said they couldn't come because they didn't have gasoline. Imagine the answer for a police force to say that they cannot go to the ranch because there is not enough for gasoline. And quite suddenly, they knew it was over. I'm just feeling like that I'm so overwhelmed with the situation that we're living in in Mexico today that I just can't stand it. I just cannot bear it anymore. I want to get far away from here.
So Eduardo said goodbye to his native land. Jane was his country now. The woman he saw at the phone booth all those years ago, whom he wooed on his train car, who made a family and saved his life, who, as he sat crumpled in his box, kept him alive and in love. I always knew love is important, but never as important as I know now.
So you learn, it changes your life forever, for sure. But it does not make life fair. We have to tell you, though it is difficult to do so, that Jane Valseca's breast cancer returned full force. And four years after she fought for and won Eduardo's freedom, she died. That had to be a dark time for you. Terrible time. That was horrible. Did you have any... That was the worst thing in my life, more than the kidnapping. No, that was terrible.
It was definitely the most difficult time of my life, losing that woman. Yeah. She was a hero. She was a badass. Yeah, she was amazing. I look at her as, like, the person I want to become one day. I'm very lucky to have had a woman like that as a mother. Very lucky. Now, her presence hovers over everything. But they are realists. She is gone. Nothing they can do.
So, did it matter anymore finding out who kidnapped and tortured Eduardo all those 225 days or catching whoever it was? I put that away. I wasn't even thinking of it. Of course, I wanted justice, but I didn't. But you accept that you probably will never get it. Yeah, exactly. I was pissed off and I was sick and tired of suffering out there, that I was happy to be back here and all I wanted to do is not think about what happened.
Did you at some point along the way think, "I'm never going to find out who did this to me, who did this to us, and I'll just give up"? After the time went by, and I know these guys, the police and the government and all of that, they will never call me back and they didn't care about it. I totally lost hope. And then, out of the blue, total fluke, something amazing happened. All because of one nervous cab driver and a severed finger.
And a harrowing tale... Coming up... It says they grabbed a very dangerous kidnapper. Then we really seriously think there is the same guy that grabbed you. After all these years, an arrest. And could it be? Was this his prison? Wow, it really, really looks like this is the place. When Dateline continues...
The news from San Miguel de Allende had been dramatic, remarkable. Here it was from the state attorney general. A months-long kidnapping solved with an arrest. The kidnappers demanded large ransoms that must be paid in U.S. dollars. But was this the revolutionary group Eduardo had been told about again and again? No. No.
This was a Chilean national, a resident of San Miguel, and his kidnapping business appeared to be freelance for the money. The kidnapper had been charged with abducting this resident of San Miguel. Her finger was cut off during her ordeal. Eduardo, now living in a Washington, D.C. suburb, heard of the arrest from a Mexican newspaper reporter. Hello, Eduardo, it's a shut-down.
Wait, his kidnapper? Now Eduardo had to know, and so did we. Was it true? So, November 2019, more than a decade since he'd been taken...
We took him with us to San Miguel to find an answer that suddenly mattered a great deal indeed. Reporters Veronica Espinosa and Ana Luz Solís report extensively on the kidnappings in San Miguel. How many kidnappings were there in San Miguel in the last 10 years? Ten kidnappings that I know of. And in every case, naked in a box, the starvation, the extortion methods,
All were the same. And bit by bit, this peaceful and prosperous colonial town became fearful again.
The people don't have the same trust they once had in this paradise. But now, by all appearances, they got him. The person behind it all. There were a series of statements made by federal authorities and from the state attorney general's office that said that he was, in fact, the leader of all these kidnappings, including Eduardo's. And after he was caught, the kidnapping stopped.
Ana Luz took us to the place. The kidnapper was apprehended. Told the story of the cabbie who was paid ten times the fare to deliver a package that felt disturbing. And when he felt the package, it was like something really strange in there. Inside was the finger of the kidnapped woman and a ransom letter. But the cabbie could see the man who gave him the package and the money was tailing him. Taxi came along and parked...
The cabbie was terrified. Hurry, he begged the police. The cops arrested the man, but had no idea yet who he was. And while they figured it out, that man made a phone call.
To this modern suburban apartment on the outskirts of San Miguel. Nancy was kept three months in this house. Right in a resident, I mean, a very suburban looking place, right? Right. Where for months, the kidnapper and his confederates had been holding that French-American woman naked, starving. A wooden box for a cell.
a tale so similar to Eduardo's case. So they had the wood around, and they had sort of like plastic that kills the sound, sort of like, how do you call that? Soundproofing material, so she could scream and not be heard. That's right. And the kidnapper's phone call from the gas station was to his confederate in there. Que limpie el cajon.
So he said, the criminal said, tell Carlos to clean the box. Ah. Una hora después. So one hour later after that call, Nancy was totally walking by herself. They just let her go? They just let her go.
Dead Analuz took us farther out, beyond the suburbs, to this brightly colored country house surrounded by acres and acres of privacy. Here, she said, was where the kidnapper lived a solidly middle-class life. And if I close my eyes, when we were coming on the car right now, on the way here, it's very similar to what I felt. The cobblestones. The cobblestones and all that.
As we approached, Eduardo was tense. Was this where he was held all those seven and a half months more than a decade ago? She's certain that when the time I was captured, he owned this house and nobody else was living here. So that's a great possibility that they kept me here. I can recognize... Wow. It really, really looks like this is the place, my friend. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. All right. This is incredible. The property is derelict.
has been long abandoned, Eduardo scarred the floor plan based on sounds he heard in captivity. What's it like to be in here, knowing that it could be the place? It will feel like finding a treasure.
Because just knowing that these guys kept me here and all that opens another level in my mind that this is the place. But, you know, I'm not 100% sure, and I'm going to tell you why. Because after a few months, they changed me to another box.
And what I remember very clearly is that we walk in the same second floor for a while. So this is pretty small. This is very small. Wow. And then we saw it. Look at this. Lying in the dust of this abandoned place. Look at this. It's a picture of him and his wife.
This is a picture of the kidnapper. That's right. That's the main guy. We found on the floor the electric bill with his name on, and that's him and his wife kissing her. The words that go with these grainy pictures, the name, the identity, the person, were like a knife in the heart. A betrayal like no other.
Coming up... I don't even want to look at their faces. I don't want anything to do with them. A heart-stopping realization. The man who kidnapped Eduardo was very close to home. That's too much to digest. There's always more to the story. To go behind the scenes of tonight's episode, listen to our Talking Dateline series with Josh and Keith. Available Wednesday.
There are some shocks, some betrayals, almost beyond describing.
that can suck out faith in humanity, in trust. Look at him! Look at him! Like this photo of what looks like a loving husband. His name is Raul Escobar and he is a kidnapper. That was really incredible. The man who tortured, starved, shot, cut off his victim's finger was, said many who knew him, charming, a good friend, a willing helper, the life of any party.
got married in the beach house of his last victim. I was in shock. And the connection between Escobar and Eduardo may be even more painful. Three years before Eduardo's kidnapping, Escobar enrolled his son in the Waldorf school, eventually became a school trustee,
It was the very school Jane Valseca built on their ranch. And there, he had access to personal information about Eduardo's family and a perfect vantage point to watch Jane as she negotiated to win her husband's freedom. But it got even worse. Not only for that, but he was married to a woman from Chile, and she had a son, and the son was dating my granddaughter.
Here they are. Years after Eduardo's release, this is the kidnapper's stepson with Eduardo's granddaughter. She really loved the whole entire family. So to know that this is the guy that destroyed our family and that we have to leave our country and all that because that's...
too much to digest. Do you see his service on the PTA and involvement in the school as being a cover for his criminal activity? Oh, without a doubt. The answer of that is very simple. He looked like a wonderful father, a wonderful husband, caring and all that.
Escobar is serving a 60-year sentence for his last kidnapping, the woman whose finger he severed. He has since been transferred to a jail in Chile and will potentially serve more time for other crimes. And according to authorities, the evidence links him to many, if not all, the San Miguel kidnappings, including Eduardo's. Several of those who were also touched by the trauma
At one point agreed that perhaps they would like to talk to us, tell the story. Some of them held even longer than Eduardo. But when it came time? No. They did not want to appear on camera. They were afraid. The reason? The kidnappers' known accomplices fled the country after his arrest. But maybe there were more. No one knows for sure. Some say they've moved on to another part of Mexico. And Escobar?
His sentence is very long, but... Do you have any hope at all that the authorities will try to investigate him for your kidnapping and the other kidnappings? From one to ten, zero. I know the authorities don't give a damn. The federal government won't comment on potential prosecution of Escobar for the other San Miguel kidnappings.
But as for the Valsaker children... I don't even want to look at their faces. I don't want anything to do with them. I want them to rot in jail for the rest of his life. Yeah, I wish I could say that I forgive him and be as big as my mom and my father are, but it's just not the case. That's not how. But they've moved on. They're in Colorado now. College, jobs, and they've inherited from their parents a stubborn refusal to live in the past.
I just try to stay grateful every single second that I get up in the morning and know that I'm okay and that I have these people in my life. I mean, after all the hell that we went through together and all the pain, it has made us unbreakable. Well, you went through it together. Exactly. And we're finally settling into it, I feel like. The lovely ranch house outside San Miguel is owned by developers now. They're digging away on 16 new home sites here.
What's it like to see your place carved up this way and changed in these significant ways? A lot of emotions, for sure. I don't see myself back in here again at all. So I try not to be emotional about it and not to think so much about it because it's just painful. And so is this. The Waldorf School has left the Velsaker Ranch. The classrooms and playgrounds Jane's dream
are abandoned, derelict. Took forever to do these things, slowly, little by little. I planted those big trees now, you know, and now they're big. So that tells me, wow, I'm really getting old. Yeah, the beautiful memories. I can't just...
That might be the secret of life. Yeah, it might be.
That's all for this edition of Dateline. We'll see you again next Friday at 9, 8 central. And of course, I'll see you each weeknight for NBC Nightly News. I'm Lester Holt for all of us at NBC News. Good night. Have a question or need how-to advice? Just ask Meta AI.
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