Surge of public support for search and rescue teams

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LANSDOWNE STATION– Ground search and rescue (GSAR) teams from across the province came together over the long weekend to continue the search for Lansdowne Station children Lilly and Jack Sullivan, who went missing from their home on May 2.

The team searched around Gairloch Road, which intersects Lansdowne Station Road. Lansdowne Station is approximately 10 to 15 minutes from Westville, heading south on Hwy. 289.

The wooded hills and winding roads of Pictou County were once known for their quiet charm and coastal serenity. That changed six weeks ago when 11-year-old Ava McNeil and 9-year-old Benjamin Fraser vanished without a trace. The disappearance of the two children from a weekend camping trip near Logan Lake has since transformed this peaceful Nova Scotia community into the heart of an intense and emotionally charged search operation—one that shows no sign of stopping.

It began on a Friday evening in late April. The children were with their families and several other campers at a group site in the northern part of the county. Ava and Benjamin were last seen just before dusk, walking toward a nearby trail that loops around the lake’s edge. When they failed to return within the hour, the parents began searching the immediate area, assuming the kids had lost track of time or taken a wrong turn. By nightfall, it was clear something was wrong. A 911 call was made, and emergency responders arrived within the hour.

The initial search covered the trails, lake shoreline, and nearby forest. RCMP officers, volunteer firefighters, and local residents organized into teams, working through the night with headlamps and floodlights. Drones with infrared imaging were deployed, and dive teams began scanning the lake’s shallows. Every hour mattered, and every potential lead was pursued with urgency. Despite the massive early response, no sign of the children emerged.

By the third day, authorities expanded their efforts into what they called Phase Two: a ten-kilometre radius from the last known location. Search dogs were flown in from Halifax, while teams specializing in rugged terrain joined from across the province. Volunteers arrived from neighboring counties. The community’s spirit was palpable—local businesses donated food and supplies, and hundreds of people helped canvass the forests and backroads.

A temporary command center was set up in a nearby community hall. Maps of the area covered entire walls, with grids marked to show where teams had searched. As the days passed, updates became more somber. Investigators began exploring all possibilities, including abduction, although no evidence pointed definitively in that direction. Still, the focus remained on locating the children alive and unharmed. Their families, devastated but determined, remained close to the search site, hoping for a breakthrough.

A week into the search, a possible lead surfaced when a fisherman reported seeing a small flash of color in the brush across the lake—something that didn’t belong in the natural landscape. Investigators reached the spot and discovered a piece of blue fabric tangled in the undergrowth. It was later confirmed to be part of Benjamin’s jacket. The location was marked as a high-priority zone, and for the next 72 hours, search teams focused intensely on a 2-square-kilometre patch of dense woods nearby.

The clue renewed hope. Alongside the search efforts, psychological and behavioral experts were consulted to model how the children might have moved, reacted, and survived in such terrain. While Pictou County’s forests are not vast in comparison to Canadian wildernesses further north, they are disorienting and filled with hazards—steep ravines, hidden creeks, and thick underbrush. Theories ranged from accidental injury to hiding in fear, possibly after getting separated.

As time stretched on, the tone of the operation shifted. RCMP officials acknowledged the increasingly slim chances of finding Ava and Benjamin safe, but emphasized the commitment to continue. “This is unfinished business,” said Inspector Marie Leclerc at a press briefing. “We owe it to these children, and to their families, to follow every lead and search every path.” Her words resonated across the province. Donations surged once more, and additional volunteers signed up.

Public support was unwavering. Candlelight vigils were held in New Glasgow and Stellarton, with schoolchildren holding signs reading “Come Home Ava and Ben.” Social media lit up with hashtags and digital posters, urging anyone with information to contact authorities. Helicopters continued regular sweeps of the region, while new satellite data was analyzed in hopes of detecting disturbances or anomalies in the forest cover.

Three weeks after the children disappeared, a second key discovery was made: a water bottle with stickers matching one Ava was known to carry. It was found near an old logging path, over eight kilometers from the campsite. The distance shocked investigators and suggested that if the children were together, they had traveled a considerable way—perhaps seeking help, shelter, or simply trying to find their way back. Again, the search grid shifted.

Despite the long weeks, neither family has left the area. They’ve set up camp near the command post, supported by friends and relatives. In a recent interview, Benjamin’s father, Thomas Fraser, expressed the pain of not knowing: “We wake up every morning hoping this is the day. We go to sleep praying they’re warm somewhere. But we keep going, because we have to.” Ava’s mother, Jennifer McNeil, echoed that sentiment: “Until someone tells me otherwise, I believe my daughter is out there. Waiting for us.”

Forensic analysts continue reviewing every object found, cross-referencing with personal items, and collecting data to understand what may have happened. But there have been no new major leads in the last ten days. The RCMP’s Missing Persons Unit has now been officially assigned to the case, coordinating with provincial emergency services and international partners.

Despite the mounting time, no one involved in the effort is willing to call the case cold. Teams continue to rotate in and out, scouring riverbeds, ravines, and abandoned cabins. Maps are updated daily, each new pin or colored square marking where hope was held, examined, and either renewed or let go. Every path taken is documented. Every square meter matters. As one volunteer put it, “You can’t leave it behind until you know.”

There are also discussions underway to maintain a long-term presence in the area, including the use of trail cams, motion sensors, and remote surveillance to continue monitoring the region even after active search teams reduce their footprint. Officials say the goal is to keep the investigation alive while balancing the realities of time, resources, and the changing seasons.

Pictou County, once known only for its beaches and small-town charm, now stands as a symbol of unity and resolve. Its people, hardened by sorrow but bound together by purpose, are not giving up. The faces of Ava and Benjamin are on bulletin boards, car windows, and shop counters. Their stories are told in morning prayers and bedtime whispers. No one has forgotten them. And no one is willing to let this remain unfinished.

As summer approaches and foliage thickens, the terrain will only grow more difficult. But so too will the resolve of those searching. With every step into the woods, every scan of a drone camera, every name called into the trees, the message is clear: the search continues—not just for two missing children, but for the answers that will let a community finally exhale.