Tracking Hank Asher

It was the 1981 adam walsh abduction, asher says, that sparked his interest in missing children. "I lived a few blocks away from where Adam Walsh was kidnapped from a Sears Roebuck store in Hollywood, Florida. The whole community just held its breath, hoping for a good outcome. And, of course, there wasn't one. In 1992, when I started doing Database Technologies, I called up the center and offered AutoTrack, hoping it might help them, not knowing whether it would or not. And it became very valuable.

"That was kind of a paycheck for the soul," adds Asher. "It was a bigger paycheck than any dollar amount I could imagine." Of all he's done, Asher says, he's most proud of his work with NCMEC. "We've met 100 parents who've lost their children. I guarantee you, you look in those hollow eyes and you're seeing a hollow soul. People don't get over that. John's not over losing Adam 26 years ago."

But then word of Asher's drug-smuggling days began to circulate, and potential customers wondered if he could be trusted. Asher volunteered to take a lie detector test, which cleared him of any further involvement in drug activity. But the past would continue to haunt Asher. In 1998, after the FBI and DEA failed to renew contracts with DBT, the company bought out Asher's stock for $147 million (DBT is today part of ChoicePoint Public Records). Asher then started a new company called Seisint, for Seismic Intelligence, and another database system, Accurint. In 2003, he stepped down from the company's board of directors after the drug story surfaced again.

"At the root of any bitterness I might have," says Asher, "is that I went through a background check with polygraphs in 1993. Everybody accepted me. Then in 1999, they unaccepted me. Then in 2001 they accepted me, and in 2003 they unaccepted me. They need to get over themselves. This is the FBI, in particular. They accepted me when they needed my tools. John Ashcroft said it best. He said we're not in the business of excluding technology based on its author."

Inspired by the tragedy of 9/11, Asher created a new anti-terrorism database he called MATRIX. With MATRIX, Asher says, a user can type in a few personal details-height, hair color-along with a vehicle description, and photos of potential suspects will immediately appear on the computer screen. It is the most powerful data-mining program available. But to the ACLU, it is too powerful-an intrusion on privacy rights.

Walsh calls the controversy "unfair and wrong. It became trendy for irresponsible journalists to say MATRIX was the new Big Brother. It's not. MATRIX is a high-speed program that gets its information from public records. It's an important tool for tracking terrorists." When MATRIX shut down in April, only four states were participating. Walsh thinks it will be revived. "It's too important not to be. Every state should have this."

Asher says that if there had been another attack on American soil, people wouldn't be debating privacy rights. "I'm afraid it's going to take another attack and the country will run to these solutions."

Meanwhile, Asher has become increasingly involved in cancer research, pursuing experimental treatments with the same fervor he brought to assembling databases, say some friends.

"We have our own chief science officer," he says, "and we're compiling data sets." His cancer research project began as an effort to save the life of his sister, who suffers from bone-marrow cancer and also lives in Naples.

Daniel Broughton, a pediatrician at the Mayo Clinic and past chair of the NCMEC, says, "I have talked with him about his cancer work. He's very knowledgeable and very dedicated. He wants people to crush this thing. He's working with the researchers at Mayo the way he has with missing children. We need people like Hank Asher."

The naples office of the ncmec, expected to open in the fall, will begin modestly. But as the Ashers envision it, the Naples branch will eventually become a national model.

"We want to create something we can take to the government and say, 'This is what we need to do in the 3,143 counties in this country,'" says Asher. "This is a multi-year project. We see building this here forever."

Asher is writing software that will allow for faster and more thorough background checks on anyone who works with children-child-care workers, schoolteachers, Boy Scout and Girl Scout employees.

Peggy Asher, whose 15-year-old son lives with them in Naples (Hank also has two grown daughters), says education will be a major component of the Naples initiative. "When children are abducted and murdered, people get very angry; but there are a lot of things that go on every day that people should also be angry about and they're not. We're going to be working with the schools, developing awareness at all levels."

She cites the example of two girls missing in Naples at the time of this interview. "There are some kids in this area who know where those girls are. And part of the process is educating the children so that they know that this is not cool, this is very dangerous. Someone should come forward in order to help them. They're not giving them up, they're helping them. People have to be educated to understand that."

The NCMEC, which is based in the Washington, D.C., area, will send trainers to Naples to help coordinate the program. "Missing children is actually a local issue," says Allen. "What we want to do is take the message of the national center and have it resonate in the local community. So we will focus on Collier County and Naples because that's where [the Ashers] live now."

The Naples initiative will also involve partnering with local law enforcement agencies. Asher recently met with Collier County Sheriff Don Hunter and Naples Police Chief Steven Moore. "We're fortunate that we have a sheriff and a police chief aware of what the proper procedures are with a missing child." That wasn't true in the case of 11-year-old Carlie Brucia, who was abducted and murdered in Sarasota last year, he says. Her disappearance was initially entered as "runaway" in law enforcement databases. "That's something that law enforcement has to know not to do," he says.

"When we moved here, we thought what a great opportunity this could be for doing something that the community doesn't have and the country doesn't have," says Asher. "This is a great community. The NCMEC is a great organization. It's a natural fit."

A moment later, he looks at his wife. "We better get going. We have to get to the airport."

Walking toward the elevator, Asher is asked if he ever thinks about retiring a second time. "I don't do that so well," he says. "Sometimes I'll go out on my boat fishing for a long time, in places where other people don't go. But then I come back and start another company. You want to see the guest bedroom?"

He steps into a corner bedroom, which provides a breathtaking panorama that most Neapolitans never see: the coastline, the north Naples neighborhoods, the bays, the inland tracts.

"You get a pretty good view of Naples here," Asher says. Then the elevator opens, and he extends his hand. "Call me on the boat if you need anything else."