In this piece, author and longtime law enforcement professional Steve Scarborough examines the extraordinary Anthony Porter case—a story involving not one, but potentially two devastating failures of the justice system—and the case that ultimately made him question the innocence movement.

The Case That Made Me Question the Innocence Movement

By Steve Scarborough

The Anthony Porter case is a prime example of the innocence movement spinning out of control. The case uncovers what happens when overzealous activists within the innocence industry, seeking validation, manipulate the justice system.

A university professor of a journalism school and his students began investigating a death penalty case and decided that a convict who was professing his innocence was wrongfully convicted. The students investigated that case, interviewed a witness, and surmised that Porter was innocent of murdering two teenagers in a Chicago park in 1982. Porter directed the students to other witnesses who said another man, Alstory Simon, was the murderer.

A private detective friend of the professor then obtained a confession from Simon, and Porter was released and exonerated. Simon was convicted and would serve 15 years in prison before an investigation would determine, ironically, that he was innocent and wrongfully convicted.

Porter sued the state for compensation for his incarceration. After the case was reviewed much later, the materials presented by the professor and the journalism students to exonerate Porter were largely discredited. And reinterviews of the original witnesses seemed to confirm that Porter was guilty.

A wrongful conviction and a wrongful exoneration in one case.

In 1982, two people, 18-year-old Jerry Hillard and 19-year-old Marilyn Green, were in a park on the South Side of Chicago, at about 1 a.m., sitting in the bleachers that overlooked the community pool. A man seated near them stood up and shot them. Four other people were in the pool area, and they all saw some portion of the shooting. One man actually saw the shooting, and the other saw the person who shot running toward them. They all said they knew the shooter from the neighborhood.

A responding Chicago officer saw a man running from the bleachers, stopped him, and released him. All of the witnesses, including the police officer, identified Anthony Porter as the shooter. Porter was convicted in 1983 and sentenced to death.

Porter was eventually released after student journalists and their professor, David Protess, at Northwestern University, investigated the case around 1998 and decided that he was innocent. This impression was mainly due to the sightlines around the pool and doubt of the witness testimony. The University and Protess promoted the case, and the media latched onto a new narrative of a wrongful conviction.

The students interviewed Porter and believed him when he said he was innocent. They also interviewed the main witness in the case and saw doubt in his statement and then wrote a statement for him that implied he recanted his testimony. This statement was prepared by a PI working for Protess and completely reversed his court testimony. This information was brought to the media as “the only witness recanted his testimony.”

The witness was later interviewed by investigators, and he denied ever recanting; he believed Porter was guilty and merely wanted to put the whole case behind him.

The Professor and his students eventually brought forward another suspect in the case, based upon a suggestion by Porter. Porter directed them to Walter Jackson, who said Alstory Simon had told him he did the killings. Jackson’s Aunt said that she was there, in the afternoon, not morning, and described two couples in the stands. (Despite all the witnesses saying they saw only one couple, the victims, and Porter. Simon was interviewed by the PI, and the PI showed him a fake video of someone saying Simon had committed the crime. The PI had another intimidating male with him during the interview. The PI also told him about the Jacksons’ statements. Simon confessed in a video recording (Simon later said it was based upon a script the PI had prepared and that the PI had told him he would make money on movie and book deals), and that video was released to the media by Protess.

Protess told the media that Porter was “railroaded,” and that they were objective and unbiased in their investigation. (A student was later interviewed and confessed that they felt the assignment was to “find evidence that would lead to freeing this man.”) The main statement from the professor was that there was an assumption that there was only one witness and that he had recanted, and the media ran with it.

An investigation panel was formed and reviewed information about Simon’s confession, the statements from the Jacksons, the recanting of the “lone witness,” and other statements from the students. The panel decided that Porter was innocent.

Simon was arrested and obtained an attorney, and the attorney convinced him to plead guilty. It was later learned that the attorney shared offices with Protess and the PI.

In 1999, even though Simon’s mother said he was home with her that morning, Alstory Simon was convicted of the murders and given 37 years. He would eventually serve 15 years in prison.

Anthony Porter was exonerated in 1999. Upon his release from prison he told stories about being tortured by police and, in 2005, Porter filed a lawsuit against the state for compensation. The assumption seemed to be that since he was deemed innocent he should be compensated. In defending the lawsuit, the state reinterviewed the witnesses and presented their statements. The jury refused to award Porter any compensation.

A federal inquiry was eventually conducted, and all available witnesses were interviewed, including Inez Jackson. The discrepancies in her account about the genders of the people at the pool and the time of day were exposed, along with the number of shots she heard, and the fact that Inez was Simon’s ex-wife.

They also learned that Walter Jackson had been incarcerated with Porter and that Porter had convinced Jackson to get Inez to help him. Jackson said that Porter had said he was working with Professor Protess, and this would get him out of prison. Jackson later admitted that he had lied, and Inez also later admitted she had made up her story.

When the other witnesses were interviewed, none of them said they saw Simon there, but all said they saw Anthony Porter at the pool that morning, and just one other couple of young people.

In 2014, State’s Attorney Anita Alvarez noted the investigation of the case was corrupted, and her office could no longer maintain the legitimacy of Simon’s conviction. Simon was released from prison in October, 2014.

The spotlight then reverted to the journalism school and Professor Protess. The professor and students also came under fire for journalistic improprieties in the Anthony McKinnery case. Prosecutors noticed some inconsistencies in the journalists’ interviews of supposed witnesses. In 2011, Professor Protess was suspended by the university for doctoring internal records.

As a matter of interest, Porter had a criminal record prior to the murders, including robbery, theft, and assault. A number of other people also came forward saying they had been robbed by Porter; one even had been robbed by him at the location of the killings.

Additionally, Porter was arrested in 2011 for stealing deodorant from a Chicago pharmacy. He pleaded guilty to retail theft and was sentenced in 2012 to one year in prison.

Steve is the author of The Innocence Machine: The Innocence System Gone Haywire, an investigative examination of the evolving innocence movement and the distinction between the evidence and the media narrative. The book explores the importance of maintaining objective evidentiary standards while pursuing justice.

Want to Dig Deeper?

If Steve Scarborough’s examination of the Anthony Porter case has you questioning how evidence, assumptions, and competing narratives can shape our understanding of a crime, continue exploring his work.

In True Crime in Real Time, Steve puts you in the detective’s seat. You’ll examine crime scenes, review evidence, question witnesses, and work through real cases as they unfold—deciding for yourself where the evidence leads.

And in The Skeptical Juror’s Handbook, Steve takes a closer look at how we evaluate evidence, recognize bias, and think critically about the stories presented to us in the courtroom and beyond.

Explore True Crime in Real Time

Explore The Skeptical Juror’s Handbook

That may be the wrong question.

Because recognizing danger isn’t necessarily about recognizing a certain kind of person. It’s about recognizing behavior. The tactics someone uses, the boundaries they test, and the moments when your instincts begin telling you something isn’t right.

That idea sits at the heart of this week’s release from Genius Book Publishing, Red Flag Ready: How to Recognize Predator Tactics, Trust Your Instincts, and Live with Confidence, Not Fear by Tye Holand.

Perhaps the most important words in that title are the last two:

Not fear.

Awareness Without Fear

There’s a difficult balance when we talk about personal safety.

Ignore potential warning signs, and we can leave ourselves vulnerable.

Focus too heavily on everything that could go wrong, and suddenly the world becomes something to fear.

Red Flag Ready offers another approach: learn to recognize predator tactics, listen to your instincts, and develop the confidence to respond when something feels wrong.

Because awareness and fear are not the same thing.

Fear can make the world feel smaller.

Awareness can help you move through it with greater confidence.

Trusting the Voice That Says Something Isn’t Right

We’ve probably all experienced it in some form. A conversation shifts. Someone pushes a little too hard. A boundary doesn’t seem to matter to them.

You can’t necessarily explain what’s bothering you, but somewhere inside, a quiet voice says:

Something isn’t right here.

It can be tempting to dismiss that feeling. We don’t want to overreact. We don’t want to seem rude. We tell ourselves we’re probably imagining things.

But Red Flag Ready asks us to take those instincts seriously.

Not as a reason to live suspiciously or fearfully, but as information worth paying attention to.

Experience Behind the Message

Author Tye Holand comes to this subject with a background that gives the message particular weight.

A retired detective and human trafficking rescue operator, Holand has spent his career in a world where recognizing dangerous behavior matters.

Now, with Red Flag Ready, he turns that experience toward a simple but powerful goal: helping others recognize predator tactics, trust their instincts, and live with greater confidence.

The message is summed up on the book’s cover:

“The best time to recognize a predator is before they recognize your vulnerability.”

That isn’t a call to be afraid of everyone you meet.

It’s a call to become more aware of what you see, what you feel, and what you’re willing to accept.

Be Aware. Trust Yourself. Keep Living.

There will always be things in life we cannot control.

But learning to recognize warning signs doesn’t have to make us more fearful of the world.

It can make us better prepared to live in it.

That distinction is what makes the premise of Red Flag Ready so compelling. The goal isn’t simply to recognize danger.

It’s to develop enough confidence in yourself that awareness becomes empowering rather than limiting.

Recognize the tactics. Trust your instincts. Live with confidence, not fear.

Red Flag Ready by Tye Holand is this week’s release from Genius Book Publishing.

From an unsolved 1874 family murder to the sole survivor of a supermarket massacre, veteran journalist Bob Cyphers revisits the cases that stayed with him.

Some crime stories end with an arrest, a conviction, and an answer.

Others stay with you.

Veteran CBS reporter and true-crime author Bob Cyphers spent decades covering stories most of us only encounter in headlines. In a recent conversation on the Fireside Podcast, Bob takes listeners behind several of the haunting cases featured in his book 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest.

Among them is the 1874 Saxton family murder, a case that has remained unsolved for more than 150 years.

There’s also the bizarre mystery surrounding Ricky McCormick, whose body was discovered in a Missouri field in 1999. Investigators found two pages of coded writing in his pockets—notes so puzzling that even the FBI has been unable to decipher them.

Bob also discusses the disappearance of Gina Dawn Brooks and other cases that remain frozen in time, leaving behind unanswered questions and families still waiting for answers.

But one story had a very different ending.

The Survivor Who Helped Solve a Massacre

In 1987, two gunmen entered a National Supermarket in St. Louis and forced employees into a back room.

What followed was horrific.

Seven people were shot.

Only one survived.

Harold Meyer had been shot twice in the head, yet somehow he lived—and ultimately helped investigators identify the men responsible for the massacre.

It is one of the extraordinary stories Bob recounts in 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed, and in this interview, he shares what happened that night and the clue that helped bring the killers to justice.

Watch the Conversation

Bob joins hosts Seth Rosczewski and Rich Little on the Fireside Podcast to talk about these cases, his decades in journalism, and what it means to revisit crimes that have never truly been put to rest.

Watch the full interview below:

Read 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed

For decades, Bob Cyphers reported on murder, mystery, and crime from the front lines of television journalism.

In 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest, he returns to some of the most unforgettable cases he encountered—twenty-five mysteries that remain unsolved and one remarkable case in which a survivor helped bring the killers to justice.

If the stories in this conversation leave you wanting to know more, step inside the cases with the reporter who covered them.

Get your copy of 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest.

Four Decades of Journalism, Unsolved Crimes, and Stories That Refuse to Be Forgotten

For more than forty years, journalist and author Bob Cyphers has pursued some of America’s most significant—and unforgettable—news stories.

His career has taken him from the rescue of Baby Jessica to the unrest following Michael Brown’s death in Ferguson, as well as presidential visits, championship celebrations, and countless stories unfolding in communities across the country. Bob has worked in newspapers, radio, and television, spending thirty-five years as a senior editor at KMOV-TV in St. Louis.

But some stories do not end when the cameras stop rolling.

Bob’s investigation into the still-unsolved I-70 serial killings became the award-winning television series “Chasing the I-70 Serial Killer.” The series earned an Edward R. Murrow Award—one of journalism’s most prestigious honors—and helped bring national attention back to crimes that had faded from the headlines but never from the lives of the victims’ families.

That same commitment now drives Bob’s true-crime books.

With a journalist’s attention to evidence and a storyteller’s compassion for the people behind the cases, Bob revisits murders, disappearances, and unanswered mysteries that continue to haunt families and communities. His work is not about turning tragedy into entertainment. It is about preserving the victims’ stories, examining what is known, and keeping alive the possibility that someone, somewhere, may still hold the missing piece.

Today, Bob and his wife, Alison, live in Normal, Illinois, where they spend their days chasing a very different—and much happier—group: their grandchildren.

Dead End: Inside the Hunt for the I-70 Serial Killer

In 1992, a series of seemingly motiveless murders occurred in stores located near Interstate 70. The victims were shot in broad daylight, yet little or nothing was stolen. As investigators connected cases across Missouri, Indiana, and Kansas, the media gave the unknown gunman a name: the I-70 Serial Killer.

He has never been caught.

Decades later, advances in DNA technology inspired law-enforcement agencies from several jurisdictions to unite for another attempt at solving the crimes. Bob Cyphers and his KMOV-TV team were invited to follow the task force as investigators traveled from city to city, reexamining evidence and searching for the breakthrough that had eluded them for years.

Dead End takes readers inside that investigation, revealing evidence and details that had not previously been made public. More importantly, it ensures that the victims—and the search for justice—are not forgotten.

The task force may have closed, but the case is not over. Follow the investigation, examine the evidence, and help keep the victims’ stories in the public eye.

Order Dead End: Inside the Hunt for the I-70 Serial Killer here:
https://genius-books.myshopify.com/cart/47672825807127:1?channel=buy_button

25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest

Across the Midwest, families are still waiting.

They are waiting to learn what happened to a missing daughter, who murdered a mother near her own home, and why promising young lives ended without justice. Some cases have remained unsolved for decades, frozen in time while investigators and loved ones continue searching for answers.

In 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed, Bob Cyphers revisits twenty-six unforgettable crimes from Missouri, Illinois, and surrounding communities. Twenty-five remain cold. One demonstrates what can happen when persistence, evidence, and the right detail finally come together.

Drawing upon decades of journalistic experience, Bob examines the facts while never losing sight of the human beings at the center of them. These are not merely case files. They are stories of lives interrupted, families forever changed, and communities that have never stopped wondering.

Enter the heart of twenty-six haunting Midwestern cases—and discover why even a mystery frozen for decades may still have a chance to thaw.

Order 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest here:
https://genius-books.myshopify.com/cart/51615774015767:1?channel=buy_button

California: Surf, Sand & Murder

California is known for golden beaches, Hollywood dreams, palm-lined streets, and endless sunshine.

But beneath that familiar beauty lies a darker history.

In California: Surf, Sand & Murder, Bob Cyphers travels town by town through the Golden State, revisiting real murders, disappearances, serial predators, and cold cases that continue to leave families searching for answers.

The journey includes infamous crimes such as the murder of Elizabeth Short—the Black Dahlia—as well as lesser-known victims whose names and stories deserve to be remembered. From Los Angeles and Anaheim to Santa Cruz, San Diego, Bakersfield, San Francisco, and beyond, each chapter reveals another place where ordinary life was shattered by violence.

Some of these mysteries are legendary. Others have nearly disappeared from public memory. Bob brings them together not to sensationalize tragedy, but to restore attention to the lives behind the headlines—and to the possibility that time, evidence, or one person’s memory may still lead to justice.

Look beyond California’s postcard-perfect image and discover the haunting true stories still waiting beneath the surf and sand.

Order California: Surf, Sand & Murder here:
https://genius-books.myshopify.com/cart/52557059916055:1?channel=buy_button

Stories Remembered. Questions Reopened. Hope Kept Alive.

Throughout his career, Bob Cyphers has understood that journalism is not simply about reporting what happened. It is about asking what remains unanswered, remembering who was lost, and refusing to allow important stories to quietly disappear.

His books invite readers to look beyond the crime-scene tape and newspaper headlines to see the victims, families, investigators, and communities left behind.

Because every cold case was once someone’s whole world.

Explore Bob Cyphers’ true-crime collection and help keep these stories—and the search for justice—alive.

Her brutal death captured the nation’s attention, inspired countless theories, and produced more than 150 suspects. Yet nearly eight decades later, the identity of her killer remains unknown.

Read this haunting chapter from California: Surf, Sand & Murder and step beyond the palm trees and movie premieres into one of Hollywood’s most infamous unsolved mysteries.

LOS ANGELES

“.... All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray. I’ve been for a walk, on a winter’s day. I’d be safe and warm If I was in L.A….”

Even the FBI has given up on solving the case of “The Black Dahlia.”

“The murderer has never been found, and given how much time has passed, probably never will be,” says their website.

There was no shortage of suspects in Elizabeth’s murder, as more than 150 of them emerged for one of the most popular ladies in Tinseltown. She was a 22 year old aspiring actress. She had spent the day with Robert “Red” Manley, married man, in San Diego on January 9, 1947. Back in Los Angeles, she had dinner with a sister who was visiting from Boston, and then she disappeared, her beaten nude body discovered a week later, in a vacant lot near Leimert Park, home of famed singers Ray Charles and Ella Fitzgerald, on the city’s southside.

Her body had been cut in half, drained of blood, and scrubbed clean. And then there was her face: Her mouth was cut from its corners to her ears, in surgical precision, leaving a “Glasgow smile,” a signature wound that had become legendary in Scotland. And her body was placed, perfectly, in plain sight, for everyone to see. Autopsy reports say she had only been dead for about 10 hours. From where her body lay you could look up and see the giant Hollywood sign hanging over the city.

Ten days after the murder, the case took a bizarre twist, as the banner headline in the Los Angeles Examiner screamed “Dahlia Killer Mails Contents of Missing Purse to Examiner!”

The newspaper had received a manilla envelope that contained Short’s birth certificate, photographs, business cards, various names written on pieces of paper, and an address book. To make matters more bizarre, everything in the envelope had been cleaned with gasoline, just as Short’s body had been cleaned. Police contacted every name in the address book, including some 75 men, all of whom claimed they never had any type of relationship with Short.

Police then began looking at suspects with medical knowledge, perhaps butchers. The FBI interviewed students at the University of Southern California Medical School, which was close to the homicide scene. Eventually, some 150 suspects came and went and the case went cold.

Police early on focused on a man named Leslie Dillon. He was a bellhop and a former mortician’s assistant, knew details about the case, and had ties to someone who knew Short. Famed gangster Bugsy Siegel was a suspect for a time. A homicide detective would later write a book and claim his father was the killer. And now, some 70 years later, a retired detective who worked on the case has come forward and named a suspect: a surgeon whose estranged wife lived just a block away from the crime scene. Over the years, hundreds of people have confessed to the killing. Police do not believe any of them.

Time magazine listed the case as one of the most infamous unsolved cases in history. It remains one of the oldest and most famous in Hollywood, and in 2006, it hit the big screen, The Black Dahlia directed by Brian DePalma and starring Scarlett Johansson and Hilary Swank.

Continue exploring California’s darkest true-crime stories in California: Surf, Sand & Murder. Get your copy today.

Some bonds are difficult to explain.

Twins often speak of sensing when something is wrong with the other—even from miles away, even before there is any reason to worry.

For Terry Lewis, that uneasy feeling began when her sister failed to show up for an evening they had planned together. Sherry was dependable, successful, and in the middle of building a life she loved. There was no obvious reason for her silence.

But Terry knew her sister.

And before the night was over, she would learn that her fear had been justified.

A TWIN ALWAYS KNOWS

Life was going wonderfully for Sherry Lewis. She had just purchased and was remodeling a beautiful home on the lake. She dressed like a queen and drove a Corvette. She was at the top of her game as a real estate agent for the Massey and Bagley Realty companies in Decatur, Illinois. Sherry had an afternoon house showing, then would head down to the 1994 Decatur Fall Festival to meet her twin sister Terry for a night of fun.

The request to see the house on Finch Drive came in the night before, after office hours. Sherry was the agent on call, and made plans to meet with the prospective buyer at 1 p.m. As the night wore on, Terry kept trying to call Sherry at home and at the office. She was nowhere to be found. For Terry, this was unlike her sister. At 11 p.m., the Festival closed, and Terry drove to Sherry’s house, where she found police cars stationed in front. Back on Fitch Drive, there were more police cars, where Sherry Lewis’ body lay on the kitchen floor. She had been beaten and strangled. The county coroner estimated she was killed in the afternoon.

Panic soon swept area realtors. They would now go to showings in pairs; they would ask for identification from everyone coming into the home; they would ask all visitors to sign a log-in sheet. Meanwhile, Sherry’s keys were missing. Keys that opened every house for sale in the Decatur area.

Police found an appointment book. At 11 p.m. it said “Finch Drive,” and next to it was a man’s name. They traced him to a local hardware store, and found the call made the previous night had also come from the store. But police could never tie him to Sherry or the scene.

And then they were onto another suspect...

Read the Full Story in 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed

Sherry Lewis’s murder is one of the haunting Midwestern cases revisited in Bob Cyphers’s 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest.

Through careful research and decades of reporting experience, Cyphers follows the evidence, the suspects, and the unanswered questions that kept this case alive long after Sherry missed that final meeting with her twin.

Who arranged the showing—and who was waiting for Sherry inside the house on Finch Drive?

Read 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed from Genius Books

The Manson family murders are among the most notorious crimes in United States history and are known around the world. Media coverage of the slaughters has spawned an industrial complex morphing into its own separate genre for nearly sixty years.

On July 22, 2026, yet another Manson film was produced and distributed globally by Hulu, Disney+ and Smuggler Entertainment. It’s created quite a buzz on the internet, legacy news, and was showcased on a six-story electronic billboard on Sunset Boulevard. It reads: MY GRANDFATHER CHARLES MANSON...Discover a New Side to His Dark Side.

For some this might be interesting, even titillating. But for our family, this is yet another reminder that our personal family tragedy is treated as cotton candy entertainment for the masses. Jay Sebring, a revolutionary Hollywood figure until his untimely demise at the hands of the Manson family, is our flesh and blood. My uncle to be precise.

Our family has attended dozens of parole hearings for over two decades to speak for Jay and all the victims who remain silent in their graves… and in unified support of all the victims’ families in an ongoing fight for justice.

Sometime in the early months of 2024 I was contacted by filmmaker Alexandra “Allie” Orton requesting an interview for a documentary she was producing related to Charles Manson. Alexandra was respectful and I politely declined the interview expressing the realities that Manson-centric narratives perpetually exploit the victims, are painful to victims’ families, and create pernicious cultural repercussions.

Ms. Orton informed me her project was different in that the documentary involves an entirely unique story and that the victims would be treated with unprecedented regard. I reminded Alexandra that any story involving the Manson murders, with its focus on the killers and their crimes, is sensational and exploitative in its very nature.

“Until the victims are revealed in their true human dimension, all Manson narratives are parasitical cash grabs,” I said. I went on to inform her that the victims, our flesh and blood, are treated as insignificant props in the mass peddling of their own slaughters.

We discussed a few other things and eventually Ms. Orton shared that her project involved a young woman who recently learned Manson was her grandfather through a DNA test. She added it would follow her journey discovering and processing this new information.

Again, I reiterated the project seemed Manson-centric and that the victims will ultimately be disregarded (“… whether you believe so or not”). We politely signed off and I agreed that she could contact me in the future if she liked.

On August 8, 2024, I delivered a victim impact statement (on behalf of Gary Hinman’s family as a family representative) at Manson killer Bruce Davis’s parole hearing. Less than two days before the hearing the Hinman family was informed “media attendance” was approved. I assumed this would be a reporter.

I recall at the beginning of the hearing there was some confusion as to who the media representative was and precisely what her capacity was since the media person originally granted approval was a man named Eric Cook with Smuggler Entertainment. With prodding from the commissioners, it appeared that Sophia Arguelles was swapped in for Eric Cook. No further information was provided. The commissioners paused the hearing to determine if the switch from Mr. Cook to Ms. Arguelles was appropriate.

This was an unusual occurrence that I had never experienced in any other hearing before. I jotted down their names and production company on my prepared impact statement, along with additional notes throughout the hearing as I always do.

When the parole hearing was reconvened, the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation determined Sophia Arguelles of Smuggler Entertainment may observe. The hearing resumed and continued as planned.

The next morning I began to wonder if Sophia and Smuggler were involved with Alexandra Orton’s documentary.

I emailed her and she responded with the following:

Hi Anthony,

Yes, Sophia is the filmmaker I mentioned to you, who recently discovered that Manson is her grandfather. Eric is a producer who helped her request access to yesterday’s parole hearing, and Smuggler is the production company involved. (I’d have to refresh myself on what info I sent to you and what I sent to Kay, but they’re a production company with a documentary wing, and their producers have made the Lionel Messi docs for Apple Plus, the Oscar doc Free Solo, etc.) Sophia wanted to attend yesterday’s hearing so that she could listen to the victims’ impact statements that you and others gave. It’s my understanding she just listened to the hearing as an observer. She was the only person granted access, so I did not hear any of the content myself. I haven’t had a chance to speak with her in depth since the hearing, but she spoke to me briefly yesterday and she shared how moved she was by all of your statements. She actually asked me to drop you a note to thank you for your words. She said she was very impressed by your statement, and she hopes you are well. Sophia mentioned that she came away from yesterday with a much deeper appreciation for the toll the parole hearings must take on all of you.

Allie

I spoke with members of Gary Hinman’s family and, naturally, we were disturbed and upset. We then expressed these concerns to the CDCR. I then requested a transcript of the entire Davis hearing. Upon its arrival I noticed the transcript was labeled “Corrected” and that there was no transcription regarding the interaction involving the Cook/Arguelles confusion. This struck me odd as our families go through a rigorous vetting process and strict fifteen-day deadline to request attendance.

I didn’t give it much additional thought until last week when I viewed the trailer for MY GRANDFATHER CHARLES MANSON. The concerns I originally expressed to the film’s co-director Alexandra Orton regarding exploitation, sensationalism, and victim disregard appear to be prophetic. I say “appear” since I have not seen the documentary, nor do I plan to. But the predictable cash grab, self-promotion, and insatiable bottom-feeding frenzy remain entrenched in the Manson murder industrial complex although the narratives bud and fuse upon demand- “Hollywood Babylon... DA Hero Complex... Helter Skelter... Manson’s Not Such A Bad Guy, He’s Just Misunderstood... CIA Deep state... Conspiracy........”

Now with MY GRANDFATHER CHARLES MANSON, the twist is “nature vs. nurture” and “transgenerational trauma.” Thus the adage, “Don’t let the facts get in the way of a good story.”

Well, here are a few facts to name a few:

• Being stabbed with a butcher knife and carving fork over two dozen times while your wife is stabbed to death in the next room over forty-five times

• Butchering a full-term pregnant woman while her unborn child slowly suffocates for 20 minutes in her womb

• Slicing an innocent man’s face in half with a machete

• Shooting a man in the abdomen in hopes of killing him

• Cowardly tying up a loving couple on peaceful Sunday night and knowing they will butchered like lambs to the slaughter

• Killing an innocent man with four other cowards using blunt objects and knives like a pack of jackals.

TALK ABOUT TRANS-GENERATIONAL TRAUMA.

But there’s money to be had! And spotlights to bask in!

Before the release of the documentary, Sophia Arguelles changed her last name to MADDOX, which is Charles Manson’s last name on his birth certificate. The name change is quite baffling, especially since Sophia describes being “devastated” and “sobbing” after learning Charles Manson was her grandfather. She reiterated the devastation and sobbing fits during her promotional tour. Suspension of disbelief is in order here. Again, “Don’t let the facts get in the way of a good story.”

So, Sophia Arguelles Maddox, Alexandra Orton, Smuggler (apt) Entertainment (apt again), Hulu, and Disney+ all want their piece of the Manson pie. Laughing all the way to the bank. And not just figuratively, but literally.

The other night a friend sent me a clip from a Manson podcast (The Spahn Ranch Channel 2011 on YouTube) in which the host revealed that Sophia Arguelles and her father Daniel attended an event called “Family Jams Day 6” on August 12, 2023. It’s an annual event in which Manson groupies, supporters, and apologists get together for the sole purpose to party on the “anniversary” of the killings. There’s food, beer, even live music. Now, I guess it’s “Don’t let the facts – or even killing sprees – get in the way of a good time.”

There’s pictures and videos memorializing the celebration. Daniel Arguelles is up on stage singing with the band while Sophia is smiling and laughing with the fans. Evidently there were even autographs dispensed.

Hey Sophia, Allie, Smuggler, Hulu, Disney+… is it too late to put that footage in your film?

And while the profiteers plunder their spoils, I ask, “At what cost? And to whom?”

Shame.

For those of us who loved... who love... who are haunted... who fight for our flesh and blood... who fight for justice – this is what matters most: Gary Hinman, Steven Parent, Jay Sebring, Abigail Folger, Wojciech Frykowski, Sharon Tate, her unborn child, Rosemary LaBianca, Leno Labianca, and Donald Shea.

They for us, remain always, the facts…

Anthony DiMaria is a director and the co-author of Jay Sebring: Cutting to the Truth

Some crimes become part of a place.

They settle into local memory, passed down through families, whispered about in old barns, and tied forever to a stretch of land where something terrible once happened. Over time, fact and legend begin to blur—but the questions remain.

The Saxtown murders are one of those cases.

More than a century later, the story still carries the same unsettling weight: a family lost, a community changed, and a mystery that never found its answer.

THE AX IN THE SAX

The Stelzriede family immigrated to Southern Illinois, like many others, from Germany. They settled in a small rural track of land known as Saxtown, about five miles south of what is now Millstadt, Illinois, which remains steeped in German heritage today.

On March 20, 1874, Benjamin Schneider needed to pick up some potato seeds that he had purchased from the Stelzriede family. At 5 p.m., he ventured to his neighbor’s small log cabin home, a one story home facing east, set back from the road. The family farm was a large one, indicating the Stelzreides were better off than most. Schneider noticed the Stelzriede land was quiet. Nobody was bustling around doing the family chores. The horses and cattle had not been watered or fed. Schneider knocked on the front door. There was no answer. He looked in the windows. Nothing. Schneider went back to the front door and walked inside. What he found was the aftermath of a crime so gruesome, it would eventually captivate the entire nation.

70 year old Carl Stelzriede was lying in a large pool of blood, throat cut from ear to ear, his body nearly decapitated. In the next room was his 35 year-old son Frederich, who the family called “Fritz.” His skull was crushed and his throat slashed. His fingers had been cut off, and were next to his body. Next to him was his 28-year-old wife Anna and their children, three-year-old Karl, and eight-month-old Anna. All had been bludgeoned to death, believed to be by an ax.

Word of the Saxtown murders blared on the front page of the New York Times. The nearby Belleville Advocate joined the chorus. “An investigation revealed a scene that would make the stoutest heart quail,” the paper screamed.

There was one survivor to the carnage of Saxtown, the family dog, Monk. He was found lying on the floor, quietly keeping watch over the bodies. Monk was said to be vicious toward strangers, so police believed the murderer was someone who was friends with the family.

Two men would be charged with the murders. Both were found not guilty. Eight more suspects would eventually be arrested. All ended up being released. The entire tiny town was under suspicion.

The barn that hosted the horses and cattle on that gruesome night still stands tall, with hatchet marks still visible in the wood. In 1986, Randy Eckert, who lives nearby, bought the land and built a small house on the cabin site. Eckert, who was raised in Millstadt, was always intrigued by the legend of Saxtown.

“I always wanted to buy that farm,” Eckert said. “In fact, I decided to live in the house for a couple of years.”

That did not last long. Every year around the anniversary of the killings, Eckert said he and his wife noticed strange things happening. That was enough for Eckert, who moved out and has since decided to rent the home out. For some reason, the renters don’t stay long. Eckert said he’s probably had a dozen people move out. Many of them reported strange occurrences, always around the anniversary of the killings.

The Saxtown murders are one of the haunting Midwestern cases explored in Bob Cyphers’s 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed: Murder and Mayhem in the Midwest.

Drawing on decades of journalistic experience, Cyphers revisits murders, disappearances, and mysteries that continue to trouble families and communities long after the headlines have faded. With meticulous research and compassion for the victims, he looks beyond the evidence to the human lives forever altered by each crime.

Discover the forgotten cases, unanswered questions, and chilling stories that refuse to remain buried.

Order 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed from Genius Books

They are not drawn to the safest road or the most comfortable future. They move toward the places where they believe they are needed, even when others struggle to understand the choice.

Michele Dinwiddie was one of those people.

Her compassion led her into a life very different from the one others had imagined for her—and into a story that would leave her family grieving, investigators searching, and a city confronting questions that extended far beyond a single crime.

“SHE WAS THE BEST OF US”

Michele Dinwiddie decided to volunteer with an agency called Volunteers in Service for America, or VISTA. It was a newly launched government organization, a domestic version of the Peace Corps. VISTA focused on volunteers fighting poverty in some of the nation’s poorest communities.

Michele was assigned to St. Louis, where urban decay and violent crime was growing by the day. Her parents did their best to talk her out of it. Grad school was waiting, they lobbied, a very good job would surely follow, VISTA did not pay anything besides bare expenses, and she was heading into an unknown and possibly very dangerous environment. Surely, she was capable of much more.

Michele would have none of it. VISTA provided her with $200 a month for living expenses. It was not much, but Michele did not care. She found used furniture. She refused financial help from her parents and friends. Her sister Pam remembered hearing Michele’s voice when she called home.

“She was so very proud of what she was doing,” Pam recalled. “She was making a real difference in people’s lives. People who really needed her help. She was thrilled.”

It was a brutally cold March, 1975 day. The temperature dipped to 17 degrees, with the wind whipping off the Mississippi River. When Michele did not report to work that morning, a worried co-worker went looking for her, and headed to her apartment at 3933 North 21st street, Apartment A, second floor. Inside was her body, dressed only with socks. Her throat was slashed and she had been stabbed twice in the chest and once in the abdomen. There was no forced entry, and nothing of significance was missing.

Soon, police had a suspect. An eighth grade boy named Danny Williams, who eventually admitted that he was there the night Michele was killed, but denied that he was the killer. Charges never came. But this story does not end here. Sadly, it only begins. As the years unfolded, Williams would come to be the prime suspect in numerous other St. Louis area murders.

Read Michele’s full story and discover the other unforgettable cases in 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed, available now from Genius Books.

Content note: This post and the book it discusses address childhood sexual abuse, trauma, addiction, and suicide.

For decades, Paul Levey carried a truth that was never his burden—or his shame—to hold.

At twelve years old, Paul was introduced to Gerald Ridsdale, a Catholic priest whom his family had been taught to trust. That trust was deliberately exploited. Paul was groomed, abused, and eventually sent to live with Ridsdale in the presbytery, where the abuse continued.

But The Boy in the Presbytery is not the story of the man who harmed him.

It is Paul’s story.

Written by journalist Monique Patterson, the book follows Paul’s life through the years of silence that followed, the devastating effects of trauma, and his long fight to speak openly about what was done to him. It also examines the institutional decisions that allowed Ridsdale to remain in positions of trust even after church leaders had received complaints and warnings about his behavior.

When Paul finally spoke, telling the truth brought consequences of its own. At one point, a change in Victorian law meant that survivors could not be publicly identified—even when they wanted their names and stories known—without first seeking permission from the court. With support from the #LetUsSpeak campaign, Paul fought for and won the right to tell his own story in his own name.

Ridsdale died in prison on February 18, 2025. But his death did not erase the trauma endured by Paul and the many other children he abused. Nor did it end the questions surrounding the institutions that failed to protect them. Paul continues to speak because silence protected the wrong people for far too long.

This is a painful and confronting book. It contains graphic descriptions of childhood sexual abuse and may not be suitable for every reader. But it is also an account of courage: the courage required to survive, to reclaim one’s name, and to insist that the truth be heard.

Paul Levey was once known publicly only as “the boy in the presbytery.”

Today, he speaks for himself.

The Boy in the Presbytery: Paul Levey’s Brave Battle to End the Silence, by Monique Patterson, is now available from Genius Book Publishing.

Read Paul’s story and learn more about the book through the link below.

Explore The Boy in the Presbytery and other carefully told true crime stories from Genius Book Publishing.

On June 30, 1999, a woman driving past a cornfield near West Alton, Missouri, noticed something in the remote field.

It was the body of a man.

He had been dead for days.

His name was Ricky McCormick, a 41-year-old Black man from Missouri whose life, at first glance, seemed unlikely to draw national attention. He had little money. He could not read or write well. He had never married, though he had children. He had served time in prison. He was often unemployed, living partly on disability, and sometimes stayed with his elderly mother.

No one had reported him missing.

The medical examiner ruled his death “undetermined,” and for a while, it looked as if Ricky McCormick might become exactly what so many forgotten people become after death: a name in a file, a body in a field, a question no one pressed too hard to answer.

But tucked inside the pocket of his blue jeans were two pages of strange, coded notes.

And those notes changed everything.

The FBI’s Cryptanalysis and Racketeering Records Unit studied them. Computers searched for patterns. Experts tried to crack them. The same unit known for breaking wartime codes and solving nearly all the encrypted cases that crossed its desk could not solve this one.

Some dismissed the notes as nonsense.

The FBI did not.

“This is not that case,” one FBI analyst said of the theory that the pages were merely gibberish.

Which leaves the question that still haunts the case:

How did a man who could barely read or write end up carrying a code that stumped the FBI?

THE DEAD MAN’S RIDDLE

On June 30, 1999, a woman driving past a cornfield near West Alton, Missouri discovered the body of a poor black man lying dead in the remote field, dressed in blue jeans and a white T-shirt. A man no one seemed to care about as his body lay decomposed for three days. A high school dropout who never married but had four children. A convicted felon served a year in prison for statutory rape. A father of four children who was never married. A man who was rarely employed and on disability. A man who could not read or write and didn’t own a car. A man still living occasionally at home with his elderly mother. A man who nobody reported missing. The Medical Examiner ruled the death “undetermined.” And there the story appeared to end, just another statistic of a forgotten man of little means.

Yet this obscure man, long forgotten after his death, was about to become an internet sensation. Meet 41 year old Ricky McCormick. Some 30 lines of cryptic notes were found in McCormick’s blue jeans. Cryptic notes that the FBI’s Cryptanalysis and Racketeering Records Unit (CRRU) could not solve, quite a statement since they cracked the codes of Nazi spies during World War II, and successfully solve more than 99 percent of such coded cases.

But not this one.

“Nobody can figure out what any of these codes mean,” said a member of the St. Charles County Sheriff’s Department. “It reads like somebody writing a private diary.”

Or something like that.

(MND MKNE M RSE-N-S-M-KNARE) (ACSM) TFRNE NPINSE NPBSE RCB RNSE NPRSE INC PRSE N MRSE OPRE HLD WLD NCBE (TFXLF TCXLF NCBE) AL-PR PPI T XLY PPIY NCBE MGKSE WLD RCB RNSE PRSE WLD RCB RNSE NT SSNE NTKSE-CRSLE-CITRSE WLD NCBE AL WLD NCBE TSME LRSE RLSE U R GLSNE AS N WLD NCBE (NOPFSE NLSRE NCBE) NTE G D DMN SENCURE RCBRNE (TENE TFRNE NCBRTSE NCBE INC) (FLRSE PRSE ON DE 71 NCBE) (CDNSE PRSE ON SFE 74 NCBE) (PR+SE PRSE ON REDE 75 NCBE) (TF NRCMSP SOLE MRDE LUSE TOTE WLD N WLD NCBE) (194 WLD’S NCBE) (TRFXL). ALPNTE GLSE – SE ER+E VLSE MTSE-CTSE-WSE-FRTSE PNRTRSE ONDRSE WLD NCBE N WLD XLRCMSP NE WLD S TS MEXL DULMT 6 TUNSE NCBEXC (MUNSARSTEN MU NARSE) KLSE-LRSTE-TRSE-TRSE-MKSEN-MRSE (SAEG NSE SE N MRSE) NMNRCBRNSEP+E 2PTEWSRCBKNSE 26 MLSE 74 SPRKSE 29KCNOS OLE 175 RTRSE 35 SLE CLGSE UUNUTKEDKRSE PSESHLE 651 MTCSE HTLSE NCUTC TRS NMRE 99.84.52 UNEPLSENCRSEAOLTSENSKSENRSE NSREONSE PUTSEWLD NCBE (3 XORL) DNMSE NRSE 1N2 NTRLERC BRNSE NTSRCRSNE LSPNSE N GSPSE MKSE RBSE NEBE AU XL ‘R HM CRE N MRE NCBE 1/2 MUNDDLSE D-W-M-4 HPL XDRLX

For the McCormick notes, the FBI used computers and state of the art software to look for patterns. Some 15 to 20 experts were brought in to try tocrack the code. No luck.

“Standard routes of cryptanalysis seem to have hit brick walls,” the FBI said.

And nobody in his family knew what the mystery notes meant. And to believe that McCormick was the author is to believe that a semi-literate man who could barely spell his name has stumped the FBI with 30 lines of coded text. Many people look at the notes and laugh, thinking they mean nothing.

“We look at a lot of things that are gibberish, arbitrary strikes on a keyboard,” Dan Olson of the FBI said. “This is not that case.”

“You are talking about a mentally ill man having complex ciphers in his possession,” a detective close to the case told me. “How does that happen?”

Ricky McCormick’s strange and unsettling case is one of the mysteries explored in Bob Cyphers’ 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed, a true crime collection that digs into murders, disappearances, and unsolved cases from the Midwest with a journalist’s eye and a deep respect for the people left behind.

For readers who are drawn to cold cases, unanswered questions, and the human stories behind the headlines, this is one to add to your shelf.

Some books are written because a story needs to be told. Others are written because silence has gone on too long.

Simple, Safe & Secret is Eve Carson’s deeply researched account of the disappearance and murder of Joan Webster, a 25-year-old Harvard graduate student whose case has remained tangled in unanswered questions, shifting narratives, and a justice system that, according to Carson, failed the very person it was meant to protect.

As Joan’s sister-in-law, Eve brings both personal connection and determined investigation to this story. Her work is not only about what happened to Joan, but about the darker questions surrounding the investigation, the prosecution, and the fight for truth that continues decades later.

Eve Carson was born and raised in Danville, Illinois, and grew up in a close-knit family that became a source of strength through life’s challenges. She graduated from Purdue University with a degree in Industrial Management and Economics and began her career working for General Motors and IBM.

Eve married Steve Webster, Joan Webster’s brother, in 1980, and was the only non-blood relative in the immediate family when Joan disappeared. Since then, she has spent years researching, writing, and speaking about Joan’s case. Her work has appeared in publications including Crime Magazine, The Journal of Forensic Research, The Journal of Forensic and Crime Investigation, Medium, and Unsolved Magazine. She has also presented aspects of the case at forensic research conferences and appeared on programs including The Whistleblower.

Today, Eve lives in the Midwest, where she continues her writing, consulting work, and her ongoing pursuit of justice for Joan.

If you’re drawn to true crime stories that go beyond the headline and ask harder questions about evidence, accountability, and justice, Simple, Safe & Secret is a powerful and unsettling read.

Order your copy of Simple, Safe & Secret today and learn more about Eve Carson’s fight to uncover the truth behind Joan Webster’s case.

On a Wednesday night in March 2003, seven-year-old Dalton Mesarchik sat on his front porch waiting for the church bus. He had no way of knowing the bus had been canceled. His family had no way of knowing that no one had called. And somewhere in that small, terrible window of confusion, Dalton disappeared.

What followed was a heartbreaking case filled with questions, missed chances, and one haunting detail that never lets go: The bus he was waiting for was never coming.

THE BUS THAT NEVER CAME

It was Wednesday night, March 26, 2003. And that meant it was children’s Bible school night at the Church of the Nazarene in Streator, Illinois, a rustic blue collar town 100 miles southwest of Chicago. And that meant seven year old Dalton Mesarchik, with long hair and bright eyes, was very excited. He came home from school, had his dinner, sat down to play with his plastic Harley-Davidson motorcycles, then prepared to go to church with his older sister Deana who was at a friend’s house.

But on this night, this horrible, horrible night, fate fell on Streator.

The bus driver, a church volunteer, unexpectedly had to leave for Iowa for a family emergency. The church had no replacement driver. There would not be a bus coming to pick up little Dalton Mesarchik, or any of the other church goers tonight. The church’s policy was to notify families whenever transportation was not available, but on this night, this horrible night, no phone calls were made.

Around 7:15 p.m., family members recall seeing Dalton still sitting on the porch, anxiously waiting for the bus.

The bus that was never going to come. At 7:45 p.m., realizing the church bus was not coming, Deana came back home from her friend’s house. Within minutes, she sounded the alarm. “Where is Dalton?” she asked.

Search dogs picked up Dalton’s scent, tracking him from his front porch to the middle of Morrell street, right in front of his house. And then the trail stopped. Police believe he got in a vehicle at that point. By dawn, with no sight of Dalton, word spread quickly through the small town. Some 500 volunteers showed up to help with a search. It did not take long. By midday, police delivered the news to the Mesarchik family.

Just a couple of miles from home, Dalton’s body was found in the Vermillion River, discovered by a local fisherman who knew the family. Police said he was bludgeoned to death with a hammer. But at every turn, there was a dead end. And police kept coming back to their original question: Why would someone target, but not molest, a seven year old boy? Why would they risk taking him, right in front of his house?

“He was coaxed into that vehicle,” an officer said. “No screaming. No struggle. No sign he was afraid of anything.”

If stories like this stay with you long after you’ve read them, 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed is available now. It’s a collection of cold cases, strange clues, and the rare moments when the ice finally begins to crack.

Get your copy of Out of Cabrini today.

What really happens inside a homicide investigation?

Not the polished version we see in television dramas. Not the neat, forty-two-minute mystery where every clue arrives exactly on time and every case wraps up cleanly before the credits roll.

Real homicide work is slower, heavier, more complicated, and far more human.

In On Call: Inside Homicide Investigations, author Justin Bocock takes readers behind the scenes of thirteen real homicide cases, walking them through the process of interviewing witnesses, identifying evidence, using current investigative technology, preparing search warrants, interpreting autopsy reports, and building cases for trial. Each case unfolds the way it did for the detective working it: one fact, one clue, one challenge at a time.

About the Author

Justin Bocock began his law enforcement career as a Uniformed Division Officer in the U.S. Secret Service before joining the Mesa Police Department in Arizona, where he served for twenty years.

During his career, he worked in several roles, including patrol officer, training officer, detective, and homicide investigator. Over the years, he investigated hundreds of violent crimes, suspicious deaths, and homicides.

In 2019, Bocock was named Homicide Detective of the Year by the Arizona Homicide Investigators Association for pioneering the use of drone technology in crime scene investigations. He retired from the Mesa Police Department in 2021 and later contributed as a subject matter expert for criminal justice textbooks used in higher education.

With On Call, Bocock brings that experience directly to readers, offering a rare look at the reality of homicide investigations from someone who has lived the work firsthand.

About the Book

On Call: Inside Homicide Investigations is part true crime, part investigative guide, and part insider account of what it takes to follow the evidence in a murder case.

Through thirteen real cases, readers are invited to step into the role of the investigator: listening to witnesses, examining evidence, understanding legal hurdles, and watching each case develop from the first call to the final conclusion.

The book also serves as a practical resource for readers interested in the criminal justice system, including aspiring homicide detectives, writers, students, and true crime readers who want a deeper understanding of how real cases are built. Topics include photo lineups, firearms terminology, dying declarations, hearsay, search warrants, trial preparation, and the many unexpected complications that arise in homicide work.

But at its heart, On Call is also about victims, families, and the pursuit of justice.

These cases are not simple. They are not always what they first appear to be. And as Bocock shows, every homicide investigation requires patience, discipline, and the willingness to follow the facts wherever they lead.

Read On Call

For true crime readers, crime writers, criminal justice students, or anyone curious about what really happens behind the scenes of a homicide investigation, On Call: Inside Homicide Investigations offers a detailed, grounded, and compelling look at the work.

Step inside the investigation. Follow the evidence. See the case through the eyes of the detective who worked it.

On Call: Inside Homicide Investigations by Justin Bocock is available now from Genius Book Publishing.

Then, in November 1987, all of it was shattered.

The Dardeen family murders remain one of the most disturbing unsolved cases in Midwest true crime history. Years later, serial killer Tommy Lynn Sells claimed responsibility—but one strange detail raised more questions than answers: a set of watermelon ceramics inside the family home.

Was it proof? A lucky guess? Or another cruel twist in a case already full of them?

Read “The Case of the Watermelon Ceramics,” excerpted from Bob Cyphers’ 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed, a collection of chilling Midwest crimes, unsolved mysteries, and stories that refuse to stay buried.

THE CASE OF THE WATERMELON CERAMICS

There’s one stop light in Ina, at the intersection of Main and Third streets. At Uncle Joe’s, you can get a fried bologna sandwich with fried pickles. After that, it’s a gas station, funeral home, antique store, and Baptist church.

Russell and Ruby Dardeen had just moved to town a year earlier, and owned a mobile home on the outskirts of the city. They went by their middle names, Keith and Elaine. They had a three-year-old son named Peter. Keith worked at the local water treatment plant, Elaine at a supply store. The couple was actively involved in the tiny Baptist church, Keith a lead singer, and Elaine playing the piano. Life was drama free in the small town. But there was excitement: Elaine was seven months pregnant with a little girl, who would be named Casey.

And then came November 17, 1987.

Keith failed to show up for work for his night shift, and nobody could reach his family. Concerned, his parents contacted the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office, and headed south with a key to the trailer. Police met them at the scene. Keith’s car was missing, and they went inside. What they found was indescribable. Elaine was sexually mutilated and bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat. So was her son Peter. Baby Casey, due in two months, arrived during the beatings. She too, was beaten to death. There was no sign of Keith. Police immediately began searching the trailer. No forced entry. Nothing was missing. Cash and jewelry were lying in the open. But the crime scene had another twist: Elaine, Peter and Casey were tucked in, nicely, to their bed.

The police and family asked, where was Keith? A manhunt ensued, as Keith was clearly the number one suspect. A day later, hunters found Keith’s body in a wheat field, a mile away from the family home. He was also sexually mutilated and shot three times in the face.

The family car was still missing. But not for long. The next day, it was found 10 miles south, splattered with blood. Was it burned, or hidden deep in the woods, out of sight from police? No. The killer or killers drove and parked the car right in front of the Benton Police Department. Next door was the Franklin County Courthouse. Thirty detectives worked the case full time. They interviewed more than 100 people. They tracked down more than 1,000 leads, but came up empty.

No suspects were ever identified. There were few leads in the case. Years went by. And then along came Tommy Lynn Sells, who claimed he killed up to 70 people throughout the country. He said his nickname was “Coast to Coast.” investigators on the Dardeen case had never heard of the name Tommy Lynn Sells. But there was a little, or very big problem with the Sells confession: the watermelon.

Sells described a set of watermelon ceramics inside the Dardeen home...

Get the book here: 25 Frozen, 1 Thawed

This chilling true story explores grief, justice, forensic uncertainty, and the haunting questions that remain long after the headlines fade.

SPLITTING HAIRS

Fifth Street in St. Charles, Missouri, just off Interstate 70. Two gas stations, Mobil and Shell, sit across the street from each other. As the clock struck 11 p.m. on a cold Thursday night in February 1989, the hands of horror and fate awaited.

Jeffrey Ferguson called a friend, Kenneth Ousley, to pick him up down the street at the Shell station. Ousley arrived driving a brown and white Chevy Blazer. It was 10:55 p.m.

Across the street at the Mobil station, 17-year-old Kelli Hall was minutes away from getting off work. Her last task was to check and record the fuel levels in the four tanks at the front of the station. A witness reported seeing a brown and white Chevy Blazer cross the street, pull into the Mobil station, and park. He reported seeing a male standing next to Hall, with one hand in his pocket. Seconds later, Hall entered the back seat of the Blazer. At the same time, Hall’s boyfriend was waiting for her in his car, parked behind the station. At 11:30 p.m., wondering where she was, he went inside looking for her. He found her purse, then called her house. When he found out she wasn’t there, he called the police.

The long night of horror began for the Hall family. A couple of weeks later, Hall’s body was found on a farm in Maryland Heights, naked except for her socks. Later that night, Ferguson was arrested and charged with the murder of Kelli Hall. Ferguson would go to death row, and, as Kelli’s father Jim Hall watched, be executed in 2014.

And that brings us to the strange case of Kenneth Ousley, the man who picked Ferguson up in the Chevy Blazer. The only physical evidence linking him to the scene was hair analysis. There was one blond strand on his shoe. And there was pubic hair linked to Ousley on Hall’s sock.

The years rolled on, Ousley sat in prison, and beginning in 2008, he was up for parole hearings. And each time that he was, Jim Hall would make the four hour round trip to argue against his release. No one could blame her father for the anger and pain that would never leave. Ousley was never successful before the parole board. He settled into prison life, and even got married behind bars.

And then came the hairs. Where are the hairs? They are missing from the county crime lab. Such forensic evidence in a criminal case would be well marked in a large box, unlikely to be lost or misplaced. But it has been.

📖 25 Frozen and 1 Thawed dives into real cases where truth isn’t always as clear as it first appears.
Available here:

Some stories disappear long before they are ever solved.

We’re proud to announce the upcoming release of The Lost Girls of Arkansas by LaDonna Humphrey, an award-winning author, investigative journalist, filmmaker, and nationally recognized victims’ advocate.

This powerful investigative work examines missing persons cases and unsolved murders that continue to haunt Arkansas decades later. With deeply researched storytelling, firsthand investigative work, and a victim-centered approach, Humphrey looks beyond the headlines to honor the daughters, sisters, mothers, and human beings whose stories deserve far more attention than they received.

The Lost Girls of Arkansas releases June 1, 2026, and is available for preorder now.

A missing woman becomes a faded headline. A murdered girl becomes a file stored in a box somewhere inside a courthouse basement. Families learn to live between hope and grief while communities slowly stop asking questions. Over time, silence settles in where outrage once existed.

The Lost Girls of Arkansas confronts that silence head-on.

In this powerful investigative work, award-winning author, journalist, and victims’ advocate LaDonna Humphrey examines missing persons cases and unsolved murders that continue to haunt Arkansas decades later.

Through deeply researched storytelling, firsthand investigative work, and a victim-centered approach, Humphrey explores the lives behind the cases — not as statistics or sensational headlines, but as daughters, sisters, mothers, and human beings whose stories deserve far more attention than they received.

Set against the backdrop of rural highways, isolated communities, river towns, and dense Arkansas forests, the book traces the lingering impact of unresolved violence across generations. It examines how poverty, addiction, indifference, institutional failure, media disparities, and social stigma often shaped which victims received urgency and which were quietly forgotten. In many cases, the investigations stalled long before the pain did.

Rather than glorifying violence, The Lost Girls of Arkansas focuses on the emotional and societal aftermath when justice never comes. Families fracture beneath unanswered questions. Witnesses carry secrets for decades. Entire communities adapt to fear, rumor, and uncertainty while predators sometimes remain hidden in plain sight.

Humphrey brings both investigative rigor and emotional depth to these cases, challenging readers to look beyond the surface of true crime and confront the broader realities surrounding unsolved violence in overlooked places. The result is a haunting and deeply human examination of memory, loss, justice, and the enduring fight to make sure victims are not erased by time.

LaDonna Humphrey is an award-winning author, investigative journalist, filmmaker, and nationally recognized advocate for victims of crime. She is the co-founder of All the Lost Girls and host of investigative podcasts focused on missing persons, cold cases, and justice reform. Her work has earned recognition for its ethical approach, relentless research, and commitment to giving voice to victims and families too often ignored.

Published by Genius Book Publishing, The Lost Girls of Arkansas is now available for presale.

Preorder your copy of The Lost Girls of Arkansas today and help keep these stories from being forgotten.

[Preorder now]

Some murders leave behind evidence.
Others leave behind questions.

In the early hours of a quiet fall morning in St. Louis Hills, a father stepped outside after hearing a car in his driveway — and discovered a nightmare that would haunt the city for decades.

Gary Consolino and Ellen Dooling had been executed inside a blue Oldsmobile Cutlass just feet from Ellen’s front door. No robbery. No witnesses. No clear motive. Despite one of the most intense homicide investigations in St. Louis history, the case remains unsolved more than forty years later.

This is one of the chilling cases featured in 25 Frozen 1 Thawed — a collection of cold cases, forgotten investigations, and the haunting questions that still remain.

HORROR IN THE HILLS

It was a crisp fall night, the kind of night good for sleeping. But John Dooling was awakened by a noise in his driveway. He looked at his alarm clock. It was 4 a.m. His daughter Ellen had been out on a date, and was supposed to be home at midnight. Startled by the noise, Dooling was suddenly worried. He looked out the window and saw a blue Oldsmobile Cutlass parked in front of his house, its engine still running. He recognized the car as Gary Consolino’s, Ellen’s date for the night. Concerned, he went outside, saw Ellen in the passenger seat, opened the door, pulled her out and screamed.

And screamed. And screamed again. A piercing scream so horrible and loud, lights flickered up and down the 6200 block of Walsh Street in the quiet St. Louis Hills neighborhood.

Gary and Ellen had been shot and killed. Bullets entered the passenger window. Ellen was shot in the head, Gary in the neck. Scraps of McDonalds food was spread through the car. There was no sign of a robbery. No sign of an assault. No sign of a struggle. There were no witnesses. There was no noise to awaken the sleepy neighborhood until John’s anguish rang out.

Sirens soon followed his cries, and police cars flooded the area. By the time the sun rose, the neighborhood was being canvassed. As the days went by, police would interview hundreds of people. Nearby Francis Park was combed inch by inch. Lie detector tests were given. School friends were questioned. The victims and their family’s private lives were probed. Rewards were offered. A hypnotist was brought in to question neighbors about any memories they had from their sleep. The investigation was as intense as any city homicide investigator could ever remember. Now, more than 40 years later, there are still no clear answers.

St. Louis homicide detectives were stumped. Where was the motive?

Numerous homicide detectives held the Consolino-Dooling case file over the years. The first was Herb Riley, who called not solving the case one of the biggest disappointments of his career. Riley was followed by Dan Nichols who worked tirelessly on the case before he too, retired. In 1987, seven years after Gary and Ellen were murdered, with their case still cold, homicide detective Chris Pappas asked to take over the investigation.

Pappas’ long and winding investigative road would eventually lead him to a man named Ronald Adcox who sat in the notorious Marion, Illinois Penitentiary. Pappas began digging and discovered that Adcox lived in south St. Louis at the same time as the murders, in a neighborhood right between the Consolino and Dooling homes. According to his friends, Adcox liked to hang out at Francis Park, just a block from where Dooling lived.

Pappas got in his car and made the two hour trek to Marion, entering multiple security stages to reach Adcox, who was housed deep in the bowels of the penitentiary, where the most dangerous inmates in a building of a thousand inmates, called home. Pappas sat down in a small guarded room. Across from him was Adcox, shackled and cuffed, a very large man with very long hair, who had been living in an eight-by-eight cell 23 hours a day.

“I have been waiting for you to come,” Adcox smiled.

After their initial hello’s, Adcox put his cards on the table.

“He looked me in the eye,” Pappas said. “And he says to me ‘I am a killer. And I will kill again if I have to.”

Pappas got right to the point. He came to talk about the Gary Consolino and Ellen Dooling murders from St. Louis in 1980.

“He told me he would not have done it if he was sober, but he said if he was drunk and high, he might have,” Pappas said. “I kept pressing him, and he just laughed. He told me he was going to make me prove it.”

Today, Adcox, transferred again, sits in a Texas prison, serving a life sentence. 40 years after Gary Consolino and Ellen Dooling were killed, Pappas still refers to Adcox as a suspect, and still remembers the final words from his mouth when they spoke.

“He told me If he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life locked up in prison, he might fess up.”

He will. And he has not.

Back in the quiet, peaceful neighborhood of St. Louis Hills, crime rarely returned. It is considered among the safest neighborhoods in the city.

If you’re fascinated by unsolved crimes, cold case investigations, and the mysteries that refuse to die, 25 Frozen 1 Thawed belongs on your shelf. Some stories fade with time. Others grow colder.

In my book On Call: Case Files from a Career in Homicide, I examine a range of homicide investigations that drew media attention. Not all of these cases made national headlines, and not all involved press conferences, but nearly every one received some form of coverage. In several of these investigations, I participated in press conferences, an aspect of the job that often appears essential, yet comes with significant drawbacks. A press conference is a double-edged sword: it can inform the public and generate leads, but it can also create complications that investigators must later manage. Law enforcement officials must recognize the limitations of press conferences, and the public should also understand what they can and cannot reveal.

Every time something significant happens in the world, the first thing I want to do is watch the press conference. I’ll admit it, I’m one of those people. When something breaks, I don’t go to Twitter or Facebook. I turn on the news because I want to hear directly from the officials involved. I believe they have more accurate information than what I’ll find online.

Yet almost every time I watch one of these press conferences, I walk away disappointed. I’m a curious person, and I’m a cop. I want more information. I want all the information, and I want it now. That’s how most of society feels. The problem is, you’re not going to get that level of detail from a press conference.

In my 22 years in law enforcement, I’ve been on both sides of these press conferences. I’ve worked high-profile investigations where a chief or deputy chief held a press conference about a case I was directly involved in. One important thing to understand is that press conferences are almost never given by the officer or detective doing the hands-on work. They’re typically conducted by a chief, deputy chief, or another high-ranking official, someone who is relaying information they’ve received from others.

Take the Mesa Police Department as an example. When we held press conferences, the chief or deputy chief would deliver them. They received their information from a deputy chief or commander assigned to the unit, who got it from a lieutenant, who got it from a sergeant who got it from me. There are multiple layers between the source of the information and the person presenting it. Departments don’t want to pull the working detective away from the investigation to speak at a press conference, because the priority is the case itself.

Because of this, the information presented in a press conference is not always timely, and it’s not always perfectly accurate. It’s often incomplete or slightly flawed. We’ve all heard of the “telephone game,” where a message changes as it passes from person to person. The same principle applies here. It’s not that anyone is lying, it’s simply human nature. People interpret and summarize information, sometimes adding their own understanding or assumptions along the way. By the time it reaches the public, the narrative can differ from what investigators are actually seeing on the ground.

This isn’t unique to law enforcement. It happens in every industry. A CEO doesn’t step aside and let an entry-level employee deliver a press conference about financials. The CEO becomes the face of the message, pulling information from multiple sources and presenting it in their own words. Law enforcement works much the same way.

Timeliness is another issue. Investigations, especially complex ones like homicides or officer-involved shootings take time. They have to. From the very beginning, investigators must be thorough and precise to avoid mistakes that could jeopardize the case or lead to evidence being thrown out in court.

For example, detectives must establish probable cause, which means clearly explaining what happened and why there is a legal basis to collect evidence. This often requires writing detailed search warrants, a process that can take hours depending on the complexity of the case, the amount of information, and how the situation evolves. While writing, detectives may receive new information updates from witness interviews, new locations, additional suspects which then must be incorporated into the warrant. The investigation can expand in real time.

Once the search warrant is completed, it must be reviewed and approved by a judge. That process also takes time. Judges don’t rush; they carefully and methodically review each warrant to ensure everything is legally sound and that there is sufficient justification to temporarily override someone’s privacy rights for the sake of a criminal investigation. Sometimes there’s only one judge available, and they may already be in court or handling other matters. You might be one of several warrants waiting in line.

The bottom line is this: legally and procedurally, investigations take time. Because of that, press conferences will always have limitations in what they can provide.

I still find myself dissatisfied at the end of most press conferences, but it’s important not to fall into the trap of satisfying your desire for information with details that are incomplete or incorrect. Press conferences aren’t designed to tell the whole story; they’re meant to inform the public in a controlled and measured way, not to deliver every fact or predict the final outcome.

Patience is essential. We have to manage that need for immediate answers and trust that the full picture will come together over time. The truth does come out but it doesn’t come out all at once.

That said, I understand the frustration. I feel it too. Like everyone else, I want to know the facts, I want to understand what happened, and I want those answers now.

Curious what doesn’t make it into the headlines?
👉 Dive deeper into real investigations and the realities behind them in On Call: Case Files from a Career in Homicide

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