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Bringing closure to unsolved homicides is the new job and passion of this alumnus.

Sgt. Wayne Svilar ’90, a 24-year veteran of the Portland Police, has taken on a new challenge: head of the bureau’s brand-new Cold Case Homicide Unit.

“I’m probably two to three years away from retirement, but I’m amazed at how this job has grabbed me and made me want to put even more work in,” says Svilar.

He rolls his eyes when asked if his new job is anything like the CBS drama Cold Case. Svilar doesn’t watch cop shows—real or scripted.

“What I have noticed is they focus on the investigators and that’s cool and it’s sexy, but you know, it’s not like that.”

Svilar’s not interested in other investigators or their made-for-television stories. He’s interested in helping families of murder victims.

There are 280 unsolved murders in Portland. When Svilar talks about the mountain of cases, he uses the word “closure” a lot.

“The families will not rest until there is some closure, until they have some explanation.”

Svilar is struck by how weighed down the families are by grief, even decades after the crime was committed.

One family stands out in particular. This fall, Svilar visited the mother of homicide victim Donna Kuzmaak.

“She was very emotional,” he recalls.

Kuzmaak was brutally beaten, stabbed, and strangled in her own home 25 years ago. The mother still lives in the same home where, in 1979, she learned of her daughter’s murder.

“I remember her describing exactly where she was in the kitchen when her son-in-law came in to tell her what had happened,” Svilar says. “She remembered almost verbatim what he said.”

The woman broke down in tears when Svilar told her that, even though there weren’t any new leads, he and the cold case team were reopening her daughter’s case.

“I’m struck by how much faith they’re putting in us, because they know that they haven’t been able to solve it.”

Svilar and his team are putting at least some of their faith in technology. Forensic science has made significant advances in the past 10 to 15 years, especially when it comes to DNA evidence. The team will re-examine the DNA found at the scene of Kuzmaak’s murder and try to match it up to any criminals in the system.

In fact, there are 63 unsolved murders of women in Portland. Cold case investigators are focusing on those in particular because they believe they can find something new from the old evidence.

“Historically, when females are murdered, there’s usually physical contact between the suspect and the victim,” says Svilar. “Either by assault or sexual assault or both.”

That means DNA.

Cold case investigators have already sent samples to the state crime lab for evaluation and are anxiously awaiting results. In the meantime, Svilar is encouraged by stories he has heard from investigators in other cities where DNA evidence has solved old cases and finally brought closure to the victims’ families.

For other cases, however, Svilar will rely on his two decades of experience in police work. He has worked patrols, narcotics, tactical response, sexual assault, robbery, and homicide.

Being a homicide detective was the hardest. Svilar says he will never forget the case that he calls “the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Svilar and his partner were called out to investigate the death of a five-year-old boy. They discovered the boy’s father had accidentally electrocuted him while working on some sort of experiment.

The victim in the case looked just like Svilar’s own son at the time. He says, “The similarities were amazing.”

The father was devastated by the accident, yet he had to be charged and prosecuted for negligent homicide.

Svilar left homicide after that case. He still doesn’t like to talk much about it.

He moved on to robbery, which he calls “a great job.”

Svilar and his team of robbery detectives got creative when it came to busting burglars. When he heard about a string of robberies in a precinct,

Svilar wouldn’t wait for the robbers to strike again—he would go out and find them. His team would stake out a business or home they thought might be robbed next and often they discovered they were right.

“Several times we got these guys as they were about to rob a joint.”

Svilar enjoyed the teamwork when he worked robbery. He credits his co-workers with making him passionate about his job.

Now, as he takes the helm at the Cold Case Homicide Unit, Svilar once again finds himself energized by his team. “I see my job more as a coach for the team.”

Two of his team members, detective Cheryl Kanzler and Robbie Thompson, a seasoned investigator from the District Attorney’s office, are fellow PSU grads. The team also includes an FBI agent. Together they have been sifting through decades’ worth of police reports, witness accounts, photographs, and evidence. There have been a lot of roundtable discussions about new ways to solve old cases.

The team is limited to a 9 to 5 schedule, which is a frustration for Svilar. Unlike robbery and homicide, there’s just no room in the cold case budget for overtime. Svilar says that may soon change. If his unit receives a government grant, he can fund overtime for his investigators and for technicians in the crime lab.

Svilar has had to rein himself in more than once. He meets families of victims and wants to rush out to solve their cases. He is learning to be patient.

He realizes it will take a lot of creative detective work to solve cases like the murder of an 11-year-old boy named Joshua Jeffries.

Three years ago last August, Jeffries’ family left the back door of their Southeast Portland cottage open to let in the cool night air. A gunman also came in. He went to the room where Jeffries was sleeping and shot the boy once in the back. Then he vanished.

“There’s not much evidence,” Svilar notes. “There are no witnesses.”

Svilar wants to provide answers for Jeffries’ family. He won’t say much about the investigation, except that his team has “some theories.”

In unsolved cases like the Joshua Jeffries murder, and in the 45 unsolved gang murders in the city of Portland, Svilar and his team of investigators plan to go looking for answers.

Anna Johns is a freelance writer based in Beaverton.