Nicole Murray’s dad, Kevin, was her world, her superhero, the guy who blew every other man out of the water.
One time in kindergarten, Nicole was hysterical after leaving her favorite stuffed pig in her cubby at St. Leo’s in the Tacony section of Philadelphia. Kevin rushed out after hours and banged on the convent door to retrieve “Piggy.”
“He was like her lawyer,” remembers Nicole’s mother, Suzanne. “If I said, ‘no,’ he would call me pleading her case.”
After Kevin died in June of 2012 of brain cancer, Nicole began creating heart-shaped photo collages and logging the days she had spent without him.
Four years later, she wrote on Facebook: “1,450 days I haven’t gotten to hear, ‘I love you bun bun’…I couldn’t have asked for a better father, best friend or hero.”
To blot out the pain, Nicole turned to prescription drugs, then heroin. On April 20, 2018, her body was found on the back porch of a vacant trailer in the rural Pocono Mountains.
Police immediately identified the 24-year-old from the tattoo of her father’s portrait on her right back shoulder, flanked by a Rolling Stones tongue and above the word, “Daddy.” She had been missing for nearly four months after getting in the car with a man known to Kensington’s homeless addicts as “Pocono Bob.” While investigators considered the circumstance “suspicious,” no charges have been filed.
Nicole’s funeral coincided with what would have been her 25th birthday — April 28, 2018. A friend brought a framed certificate of a star named in her honor and attendees released balloons tied with tiny messages to the sky.
Suzanne called her daughter my “Post-It Note” because Nicole always memorized the family’s important appointments. At age four, Nicole was already reading, her mother said. By sixth grade, she had taken the SAT and went on to represent New Foundations Charter School in the Scripps National Spelling Bee.
Nicole was a fearless child, enjoying the simulated free fall in The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror at Walt Disney World or bungee jumping in Wildwood, where she spent many summer weekends.
She even cracked the code of the claw machine at arcades and convenience stores, where she won her prized blue pig. She promptly swore off pork.
Later, Nicole became obsessed with Mega Fries (gooey cheese fries loaded with bacon), washed down with a birthday cake milkshake from Wawa.
She had a wide, diverse friendship network and treated everyone with loads of affection, recalled Caitlin Murtha, Nicole’s best friend since the fourth grade. When Nicole learned that one of her friends did not have enough groceries at home, she brought him a bagged lunch or lunch money every day for about a year, Caitlin said. Whenever an ambulance drove by, Nicole made the sign of the cross and prayed, Suzanne remembered.
She plastered her bedroom wall in Mayfair with concert ticket stubs. Nicole danced to pop divas like Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry, but she also had a sentimental attachment to Pink Floyd and the Stones like her dad, who played classic rock at open mic nights.
Even though she was “tone-deaf,” Nicole “knew all the words to any song you could think of,” Caitlin said, laughing.
Nicole’s favorite song was the Stones’ “Wild Horses.”
“I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain. Now you’ve decided to show me the same.”
For her senior prom at Franklin Towne Charter High School, Nicole wore her auburn curls in spirals and a gold-silver-teal sequin dress that could not outshine her big blue eyes. A photograph from the day captures her sitting next to her deteriorating father, a carpet installer who saved up for the gown, as he lies in bed wearing a newsboy cap.
By the time she was legal to drink, Nicole had lost her father, grandfather, three uncles and one of her best friends, Suzanne said. Nicole’s older brother, Christopher, is now 29.
In 2013, Nicole enrolled in the Community College of Philadelphia and had hoped to study nursing, after watching the hospice nurses lovingly care for her father, Suzanne said. Soon after, she dropped out.
Around that time, Nicole bonded with another young woman (also named Nicole) who had recently lost her father. The pair began using drugs together.
Suzanne remained in constant contact. “Are you ready yet?” she implored her daughter. “Aren’t you tired of hurting?”
“All she ever wanted to do was be better,” Suzanne said. “I never gave up on her.”
The last time Suzanne saw her daughter was Christmas of 2017. Nicole had not been using at the time because she was alert and engaged, Suzanne remembered. She stayed overnight and they watched reality TV and exchanged presents — a winter coat for mom and clothes from Forever 21 for Nicole.
The day after Christmas, Nicole left in one of her new outfits from her favorite store to meet a friend for dinner. Later that night, she ducked into a car headed for the Poconos.
The last time Suzanne heard from Nicole was on Jan. 3, 2018. “I love you, Mommy,” she texted. “I’m coming home.”
Soon, an engraved block commissioned by Suzanne will be placed at the Butterfly Memorial Garden near the Northeast Philadelphia Airport.
It will read: “Justice for Nicole Murray.”
Anyone with information about Nicole’s case is asked to contact the Pocono Mountain Regional Police Department at 570-895-2400.
