Things I Want To Know

Send us Fan Mail Eight women were found dead in Jennings, Louisiana. Nobody’s been held responsible. That’s the case. This all happens in Jefferson Davis Parish. Small town. Water everywhere. Canals, drainage ditches, roadside drops. If you’ve ever been down there, you already know—there are a lot of places where something can be left and not found right away. And when water gets involved, whatever was there doesn’t stay long. We walk through it from 2005 to 2009 and stick to what actually holds up. Where the bodies were found. How close they were to each other. What lines up, and what doesn’t. The problem is, there isn’t one clean pattern. Same general area, same kind of recovery locations—but the details don’t lock in. Then you get into who these women were. Same circles. Drugs. Unstable housing. Survival sex work. Whether it should matter or not, it does—because it affects how fast people react when someone disappears. And then it starts to break down. There are reports and allegations tied to local law enforcement. Some of it documented. Some of it coming from people in the community. We keep that line clear. But once that gets introduced, everything gets harder to trust. People stop talking, or they never talk in the first place. We also run it through Kade Mercer to see if this even fits a normal serial case. It doesn’t really. No clean escalation. No consistent method. The only thing that holds is access—access to the same group of people, and access to places where bodies can be dropped. At some point, you’re not looking at a clean theory anymore. You’re looking at a mess. And that’s where it still sits. Listen to the episode, then decide for yourself what you think actually happened in Jennings. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send a text In April 1978, three-year-old Stephanie Alana Hall was killed in the Ozark woods of Newton County, Arkansas by members of a small religious cult. When investigators asked why anyone would murder a child, the answer they heard was almost impossible to process: the group believed the girl had been declared “anathema.” In their belief system, that meant she no longer belonged among the living. In this episode we walk through what actually happened in that remote campsite near the Buffalo River. We look at the cult’s structure, the role of a teenage “prophet,” the religious language used to justify the decision, and the moment when belief crossed the line into murder. We also follow the case through the courts, where testimony revealed how the group reached the decision to kill Stephanie and who ultimately carried it out. It’s one of the strangest and most disturbing crimes in Arkansas history—and a reminder of how dangerous a closed belief system can become when no one inside it is willing to question the revelation. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send a text On August 23, 1987, two Arkansas teenagers were found dead on a railroad track outside Bryant. Authorities quickly ruled it an accident. The official story claimed Kevin Ives and Don Henry had smoked marijuana, laid down on the tracks, and fallen asleep before a freight train came through. Case closed. But when a second autopsy was performed, investigators discovered one of the boys had a crushed skull before the train ever reached him. Suddenly the accident story didn’t hold. What followed was one of the most controversial investigations Arkansas has ever seen. Allegations of evidence tampering. A medical examiner who would later go to prison. Rumors of drug smuggling flights through the small town of Mena, Arkansas during the late 1980s. Witnesses who died under mysterious circumstances. Nearly four decades later, the question remains: How did two teenagers end up dead on a railroad track… and why has the truth never been settled? In this episode of Things I Want to Know, we break down the timeline, the evidence, the corruption allegations, and the theories surrounding one of Arkansas’ most haunting cold cases. Because sometimes a train doesn’t just run over bodies. Sometimes it runs over the truth. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send a text When the Coroner Says It’s Not Murder Two teenage boys are found dead on railroad tracks near Mena, Arkansas. The ruling? Accident. A man is found with four gunshot wounds to the chest. The ruling? Suicide. Now… I don’t know about you, but that should at least make you pause. Because once that word is written down — accident, suicide — everything shifts. Detectives slow down. Prosecutors adjust. The public moves on. And families are left staring at a piece of paper wondering how in the hell that conclusion was reached. This episode isn’t about internet rumors. It’s about documented rulings. It’s about the Arkansas medical examiner whose determinations between 1979 and 1991 didn’t just describe deaths — they shaped what happened next. The Boys on the Tracks case didn’t begin as a homicide investigation. It began as an accident. Only after family pressure and a grand jury did that story change. And that four-gunshot suicide? That became one of the most talked-about determinations of the era. Not because of conspiracy podcasts — because people read it and said, “Wait… what?” We also talk about the atmosphere at the time — alleged drug smuggling tied to Barry Seal, the later federal convictions of prosecutor Dan Harmon. There is no ruling tying those convictions to the deaths discussed here. But when narcotics investigations, local power structures, and fast accident rulings all overlap, people start asking questions. This isn’t an episode where we declare some secret master plan. It’s simpler than that. If the coroner says it’s not murder… who argues? And what happens when the person holding the pen is the most powerful voice in the room? “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send a text Was H. H. Holmes really Jack the Ripper? It’s one of true crime’s most persistent myths. This week on Things I Want To Know, we break it apart using motive, method, timeline, and behavioral profiling. Andrea takes Whitechapel and builds the Ripper’s profile. Paul steps into Chicago and dissects Holmes. Same era. Completely different predators. Holmes built traps. Private rooms. Insurance scams. Control and profit at the center of every decision. The Ripper attacked in public. Fast escalation. From Polly Nichols to Mary Jane Kelly, the violence intensifies in a way that reads like compulsion, not commerce. We test the royal rumors, the traveling American theory, and the fantasy of one man committing both crime sprees across an ocean. By the end, the myth looks dramatic. The evidence does not. If you prefer psychology over headlines, follow the show. And if you disagree, send us your case. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send a text What if your entire town was built on something that wasn’t real? Claremore, Oklahoma once rebranded itself as “Radium Town.” Hotels. Parades. Bathhouses. Souvenir jugs. Steam rooms packed with believers. One problem. The water didn’t contain radium. It smelled like sulfur. It burned your nose. And it sold like a miracle. This episode dives into the radium craze that swept America after the Curies made the element famous. We talk about the Radium Girls, radioactive tonics, glowing promises, and how one Oklahoma town rode that wave hard enough to turn prairie into profit. There were publicity stunts. Legal fights. City officials declaring the wells a nuisance. And yes — a promoter who was reportedly dead… until he wasn’t. Then medicine catches up. The glow fades. The wells get capped. But the town survives. We break down how Claremore pivoted when the miracle stopped working — and why the story still matters today, because radium wasn’t the last cure people bought without asking questions. It just glowed louder than most. If you like odd Americana, marketing gone wild, and history that smells like rotten eggs, this one’s for you. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send us a text Secrets don’t always hide in the dark. Sometimes they sit in a box on a shelf for decades, waiting on the day science finally catches up. After a quick start, we take a hard turn into Benton County, Arkansas, where skeletal remains were found in 1990 and the victim lived for 32 years in the system as a Jane Doe. We walk through why this case stalled for so long. A skull too damaged for reconstruction, early forensic limitations, and the brutal reality that without a name, even solid investigative work has nowhere to land. Then the tools evolve. NamUs enters the picture. Mitochondrial DNA work helps narrow the field. Finally, forensic genetic genealogy does what everything else could not. In 2022, investigators confirm her identity: Donna Sue Nelton, 28 years old. From there, we map what is known about the human terrain around her life, including George Alvin Bruton and the items tied to him that investigators discussed once her identity was restored. We also ask the uncomfortable questions this case forces. Why can an adult disappear without a clear missing report trail. How control dynamics can shrink a person’s choices until they do not feel like choices at all. And why victimology matters, because “Jane Doe” is not a person, but Donna Sue Nelton was. This is not a courtroom ending. It is a different kind of justice. A name returned. A case history restored. A woman pulled back out of the void. If you like true crime that stays grounded in facts and follows the science where it leads, follow the show so you do not miss what we dig into next. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send us a text A nine-pound socket slipped during routine maintenance inside a Titan II missile silo near Damascus, Arkansas. That’s not a metaphor. That’s the start of a real chain of events that turned a live Cold War ICBM into a disaster under rural farmland. In this episode, I walk Andrea through it the way I learned it. No assuming you’re a history nerd. No pretending everybody remembers the Cold War. We break down the basics in human language: why these weapons existed, why they were placed where they were placed, and how people can live near something terrifying and still worry more about dinner and the weather. Then we get into the night itself. The leak. The vapor. The pressure. The decisions made while everybody is trying to figure out what kind of nightmare they are standing next to. The silo ultimately explodes in a massive conventional blast. The nuclear warhead does not detonate, and the reentry vehicle is thrown clear and recovered afterward. That is the “good news.” The other part is realizing how thin the margin was, and how many outcomes still count as catastrophic even when the big one does not happen. And here’s the line that should bother everybody: luck is not a safety protocol. If you learned something, or if this one made you stare into the distance for a second, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a review with the moment that hit you the hardest. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send us a text A quiet driveway is supposed to be the end of the day. Park. Breathe. Go inside. Safe. That is why this case won’t let go. Misty Dawn Faulkner makes it home to rural Oklahoma after a shift. There’s a Walmart run in the mix. There’s a phone call, maybe finished from the car. And then the part that turns your stomach: she’s gone. No obvious struggle. No screaming heard. Her purse and phone are left behind. The vehicle is locked. The groceries are still there. It looks normal until you realize it absolutely is not. In this episode of Things I Want To Know, we walk the timeline as clean as we can. What’s confirmed. What’s reported. What’s repeated so often online that people start calling it “truth.” We talk about allegations of abuse in the background and why secondhand claims can be both important and dangerous at the same time. We dig into the investigative pieces that matter: multiple cadaver dogs alerting on the same pond, the pond being drained, and nothing recovered. Ground-penetrating radar showing minor anomalies, but no confirmed burial. This is the kind of case where every lead creates two more shadows, especially in an area where tips can cross state lines fast and clarity can die of paperwork. Then we zoom out, because the audience deserves perspective. Most missing person reports do get cleared. A lot of “missing” is miscommunication, family conflict, paperwork lag, runaway dynamics, addiction cycles, and people choosing to disappear for reasons that are ugly but not criminal. Abductions are real. Violence is real. But the public belief that it happens constantly to everyone, everywhere, is not supported by how the numbers usually shake out. That doesn’t make this case safer. It makes it sharper. Because when a scene is clean and the essentials are left behind, that’s when you have to stop guessing and start asking better questions. Two children grew up without their mother. A community is left with a locked car, untouched groceries, and a timeline that still doesn’t add up. If you have information, share it with law enforcement. If you’ve got a theory, bring it to us as a theory, not a verdict. Thank you for listening to Things I Want To Know. If you want to support the show, hit the support link and keep the mics alive. Then rate and subscribe. It helps more than you think. And if you want some Andrea-approved gear, it’s at www.paulgnewton.com. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send us a text A funeral home is supposed to be the one place that runs on dignity, routine, and trust. Transfer. Refrigeration. Service. Closure. In Jacksonville, Arkansas, that trust snapped. In this episode of Things I Want To Know, we start where the damage actually lived: with the families who paid for care, waited for answers, and later learned what state inspectors said they found inside Arkansas Funeral Care. Not rumor. Not internet folklore. Documented findings that turned a private moment into a public scandal. We walk through what the state documented, what families later alleged in civil lawsuits, and why criminal charges can collapse even when the facts make your stomach turn. Then we get uncomfortably practical about the system itself: what Arkansas law actually requires, where “timely disposition” turns into a loophole, and what you should ask before you ever sign a contract with anyone handling your dead. This isn’t a ghost story. It’s a trust story. And the bill always comes due. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send us a text This episode examines Ronald Gene Simmons, tracing his rigid rise through the military, the incest allegation that triggered a sudden move, and the slow construction of an isolated household on Mockingbird Hill. As control began to slip, children leaving, jobs unraveling, pension delays stacking up, Simmons’ fixation hardened into a plan that unfolded over several days during Christmas 1987. Fourteen members of his family were killed, including children and grandchildren. Afterward, Simmons drove to Russellville and opened fire on former coworkers and supervisors, telling police he had “gotten everybody who wanted to hurt” him before surrendering without resistance. We walk through the timeline and the psychology behind the violence. How coercive control, isolation, and a self-imposed hierarchy can turn a family into a sealed system. We compare Simmons to other killers shaped by abusive environments and note where those patterns fall apart. The evidence points less to a reactive trauma script and more to a man who weaponized order, then tried to erase anyone who threatened it. The episode also examines the legal aftermath: crimes spanning jurisdictions, competency findings, an unusually fast jury process, and a defendant who refused all appeals. Simmons’ final statement, calling his actions “justifiable homicide,” raises uncomfortable questions about speed, certainty, and justice in capital punishment cases. Along the way, we center the aftermath. How holidays change forever for survivors. How a community absorbs a crime of this scale. And why verification matters when even a killer’s childhood becomes distorted through repetition and rumor. This is a conversation about control, domestic isolation, and the legal edges of the death penalty. It avoids gore, rejects mythmaking, and insists on clarity where silence once lived. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing.

Send us a text Most true crime podcasts lie politely. We don’t. So we decided to explain why. After getting pushback for “disrespecting” a victim, Andrea and I laid out exactly how Things I Want to Know works. This episode is our playbook. How we research. Why we focus on underreported Arkansas cases. And why respecting victims does not mean turning them into saints or pretending uncomfortable facts don’t exist. We start with primary sources. State missing-persons lists, archived newspapers, and public records. Wikipedia is never a single source. If we can’t double-check a claim, it doesn’t make the cut. FOIA requests help sometimes. Often they don’t. When information is thin, locked down, or too risky to publish responsibly, we shelve the case. That’s not fear. That’s restraint. Victimology gets the hardest scrutiny. We don’t do saintly clichés and we don’t do cheap cruelty. Routine, relationships, place, and risk shape opportunity, but labels don’t define a person. When families or firsthand sources correct us, we update the record. And we don’t force famous killers into unrelated cases just to make a cleaner narrative. Method matters more than myth. Along the way, we reference system failures that sharpen how we think. Hawaii’s false nuclear missile alert that sat unretracted for 38 minutes. The MOVE bombing in Philadelphia. Different stories, same lesson: small decisions spiral, and accuracy matters when real people are involved. This episode is about balancing truth, empathy, and clarity without sanding off reality. If you’ve got documents, corrections, memories, or you just want to tell us why were wrong, email me, Paul G. paulg@paulgnewton.com You can find the show, the merch, and everything else we’re building at paulgnewton.com. Subscribe. Share it with someone who’s tired of copy-paste true crime. And if there’s a case you think deserves real attention, tell me about it. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing. And when your curiosity needs a breather from all the murder, jump over to my other show, Paul G’s Corner, where history proves that saying it can’t happen here usually means it already did. Get Bad Ass Merch!

Send us a text Things I Want To Know Don’t Boil the Water | Charleston, West Virginia A sweet smell coming out of the tap should never turn into a guessing game. In this episode, we dig into the 2014 Charleston, West Virginia chemical spill that sent crude MCHM from a neglected storage tank straight toward a municipal water intake, forcing 300,000 people to stop using their water overnight. Not limit it. Not boil it. Stop. We talk about how a century-old piece of infrastructure ended up sitting upstream from a city’s drinking water, why oversight failed, and how “safe enough” became the most dangerous phrase in the room. Residents reported rashes, nausea, burning eyes, and headaches, while officials tried to reassure the public with toxicology data that barely existed. Accountability did come, eventually. Guilty pleas. Home confinement. Bankruptcy. But trust is harder to flush out of a system than a chemical you can smell. We also zoom out, because Charleston isn’t an anomaly. From storage tanks to rail lines to aging intakes, this is what happens when convenience and complacency quietly stack risk in places no one is watching. This isn’t panic radio. It’s a conversation about vigilance. What smells matter. Why boiling water can make some chemical exposures worse. What actually helps at the household level, and what fixes need to happen upstream where the real control lives. Because the most unsettling part isn’t that something went wrong. It’s how normal the day felt before anyone knew. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing. And when your curiosity needs a breather from all the murder, jump over to my other show, Paul G’s Corner, where history proves that saying it can’t happen here usually means it already did. Get Bad Ass Merch!

Send us a text Two women vanish in Arkansas, sixteen years apart, and the details still don’t sit right. In this episode, we examine the disappearance of 18-year-old Cleashindra Hall in Pine Bluff in 1994 and art teacher Mary “Jimmie” Bobo Shinn in Magnolia in 1978. Two very different lives. Two very different towns. The same outcome: unanswered questions and investigations that lost traction early. We walk through what went wrong and why it mattered. What happens when the last known location is someone else’s home? When the only narrative comes from the people who controlled the space, and that space gets cleaned, rearranged, or repainted before police ever look? How does a routine house showing end with a dumped purse, cash untouched, and tennis shoes jammed beneath the pedals of an abandoned car? We talk plainly about investigative blind spots: delayed entry to critical scenes, chain-of-custody failures that destroy potential forensic evidence, witness canvasses that never quite lock in, and the damaging assumption that adults simply “left.” We also place both cases in their time. Pine Bluff in the 1990s. Magnolia in the late 1970s. How race, social standing, and small-town dynamics shaped urgency, attention, and follow-through. We also cut through the noise. Psychics. Private investigator versus police friction. Sketches so generic they could be half the state. Theories that don’t match the evidence don’t help anyone. This episode is about what can still be done. Retesting with modern DNA methods. Re-entering prints and materials into national databases. Re-canvassing with the benefit of time and honesty. And talking openly about common-sense safety practices that didn’t exist when these women disappeared. Cold cases don’t close themselves. People close them. If these stories matter to you, help keep them alive. Share the episode. Leave a review. And if you have information or resources, reach out. To support the show and keep this work going, visit PaulGNewton.com for official Things I Want to Know merch and other projects. And if you want more long-form storytelling beyond true crime, listen to Paul G’s Corner, where history, near-miss disasters, and forgotten moments get the same straight-talk treatment. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing. And when your curiosity needs a breather from all the murder, jump over to my other show, Paul G’s Corner, where history proves that saying it can’t happen here usually means it already did. Get Bad Ass Merch!

Send us a text Paul G and Andrea trace the violent trail of James “Red” Hall across wartime Arkansas, where a hellfire upbringing and a childhood head injury twisted a drifter into a man who turned small moments into real-life dead ends. A .38 revolver ties the bodies together. The chaos of World War II gives him cover. And Arkansas rushes him from confession to Old Sparky before most people even know who he is. They follow the disappearance of Faye after a night out in Little Rock, the motorists who picked up the wrong hitchhiker, and the ballistics that stitched Hall’s spree together. From Stuttgart’s glider base to the thin police records of the 1940s, Paul and Andrea break down how a man like this drifted through the state unseen until his execution and the eerie death mask that lingered for decades. It’s the kind of story Arkansas forgets — until someone finally tells it. Grab a shirt at PaulGNewton.com. And if you’re the mystery super-listener in Iowa… drop us a line. We might ship you the Walmart shirt. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Things I Want To Know Where two stubborn humans poke the darkness with a stick and hope it blinks first. If you know something about a case, report it to the actual police before you come knocking on our door. After that, sure, tell us. We’re already in too deep anyway. If you enjoy the show, or you just like supporting people who refuse to shut up, grab some merch at PaulGNewton.com. It keeps the lights on and the caffeine flowing. And when your curiosity needs a breather from all the murder, jump over to my other show, Paul G’s Corner, where history proves that saying it can’t happen here usually means it already did. Get Bad Ass Merch!

Send us a text In 1992, seventeen year old Kelly Wilson vanished in Gilmer, Texas. A short walk from a video store to her car became one of the most debated missing person cases in Texas history. What should have been a focused, evidence driven investigation was quickly consumed by the national Satanic Panic that overtook the early nineties. Gilmer followed the same pattern seen in McMartin, Kern County, and the West Memphis Three. Fear replaced facts. Rumor replaced procedure. And Kelly’s case fell into the same trap that swallowed so many investigations during the Satanic Panic era. In this episode we retrace Kelly Wilson’s last known steps, the slashed tire, the missing keys, and the early suspects who should have remained at the center of the case. We examine how the entire investigation veered into claims of ritual abuse when the Kerr family CPS probe began producing pressured child testimony that expanded only after repeated, leading interviews. These accusations mirrored every hallmark of the Satanic Panic movement. No physical evidence. No forensic support. No verified ritual activity. Only fear, group reinforcement, and stories that grew bigger every time a child was pushed for more. Using criminal profiling, forensic standards, and lessons taken from documented Satanic Panic cases, we outline the scenario that best fits the facts. The Texas Attorney General later confirmed what the FBI had been saying for years. Real ritual crime leaves clear signatures. Gilmer had none. What it had were misidentified bones, contaminated interviews, and a case that lost its direction the moment panic replaced logic. If you follow true crime, Satanic Panic history, missing person investigations, or the impact of moral hysteria on criminal justice, this episode brings clarity to one of the most misunderstood cases of the early nineties. For links, case notes, and official show merch, visit paulgnewton.com “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Get Bad Ass Merch! Check out Paul's Website Want sound like Paul G's for your podcast? Get the plug-ins you need here!

Send us a text In this Episode we dive into the case of Michael Ronning, a convicted murderer who spent years bragging about killings no court ever proved. His life stretched from Michigan to Arkansas to Florida, and everywhere he went the same pattern followed: a missing girl, an unexplained death, and a story he couldn’t resist inserting himself into. Was Ronning a forgotten serial killer, or a drifter who loved the attention that came with pretending to be one? Andrea and Paul sift through the timeline, the victims, the confessions, and the contradictions he left behind. Some of his claims line up a little too well. Others fall apart the second you touch them. This episode pulls apart the myth of Michael Ronning and the messy truth underneath it. “Some killers stay silent. Ronning couldn’t shut up long enough to hide anything.” “Every place he bragged about had a real victim. That is not a coincidence.” “He confessed to murders he couldn’t possibly have committed. The question is why he wanted the credit.” “The courts only proved one killing, but the geography tells another story.” “Was he a serial killer, or just a man who enjoyed the spotlight a little too much?” “This is the problem with Ronning’s case. The truth and the lies sound exactly the same coming out of his mouth.” A drifter who loved headlines. A murder tied to a $700 lockbox. A string of claims that crumble under basic scrutiny. We dive into the volatile life and crimes of Michael Ronning, exploring the one confirmed homicide and the many cold cases he tried to claim from Michigan to Arkansas to Florida. Our goal isn’t to glorify him—it’s to separate what really happened from what he wanted people to believe. We walk through Dana Lynn Hanley’s case step by step: the short construction job, the glimpse of cash, the abduction, the eyewitness who remembered his face, and the conviction that followed. From there, we map the suspected cases Ronning attached himself to, including the Rebecca Sue Hill connection, and ask a hard question: are we seeing a serial predator with a ritual, or a chaotic opportunist who killed when it was easy and bragged when it was useful? Using our AI-assisted profiler “Cade Mercer,” we test the behavioral evidence and the lack of consistent signature—finding rage, proximity, and impulse instead of ritual, planning, and control. We also zoom out to the limits of 1980s forensics—decomposition in swamps, missing biological material, inconsistent evidence handling—and look at how modern tools like CODIS, touch DNA, and forensic genealogy could still help. If Ronning’s DNA is in the system, could renewed testing answer lingering questions or clear false trails? Along the way, we challenge the habit of pinning unsolved cases on notorious names and talk about what responsible true crime work looks like: careful distinctions, transparent uncertainty, and respect for victims and families. “Thank you for listening to Things I Want to Know. You want these stories, and we want to bring them to you — so hit the support link and keep this circus, and the mics, alive. Then do us a favor and rate and subscribe; it helps the show find more people like you — the ones who like their mysteries real and their storytellers unfiltered. And if you want to wear a little of this madness, grab some Andrea-approved gear at paulgnewton.com. We make t Support the show Check out Paul's Website Want sound like Paul G's for your podcast? Get the plug-ins you need here!

Send us a text A police lieutenant turns the key, presses the brake, and his truck erupts. He lives. The case almost disappears. We set out to learn why a 1972 Springdale, Arkansas bombing barely made the paper and what the town didn’t (or wouldn’t) say out loud. Along the way we sketch the real backdrop: a rural region on the cusp of change, where Walmart and Tyson were still rising, Sundays went quiet, and a hard-edged meth trade simmered under the surface. We walk through the device itself—DuPont gelatin dynamite, electric blasting caps, a likely brake-trigger—and how ATF and the FBI traced components that later surfaced in a routine DWI stop. The names matter here: a farmhand with easy access to explosives, a serially arrested dealer named Dennis Eugene Cortis who joked about “a bomby night,” and witnesses who remember him bragging at house parties the cops already knew about. The evidence lines up enough to raise eyebrows—brand continuity, relationships, and loose talk—but not enough to become a clean courtroom story. That’s where small-town dynamics cut in. FOIA requests yield lab notes but not a complete record. A grand jury is rumored yet untraceable. Prosecutors may have done the math—stack drug manufacturing and theft for decades inside, or risk an attempted murder case with thin forensics and 1970s procedures. And then there’s the twist of family: Cortis’s mother slipping him tools to escape the county jail, sending him on a run that added more crimes in Oklahoma before the time finally stuck. Read more or get your SWAG here: Paul G Newton's Blog — Paul G. Newton What emerges is a candid portrait of how communities navigate scandal when the truth threatens comfort. It’s Arkansas true crime with all the texture: meth networks, ATF trails, missing records, and the stubborn persistence it takes to keep asking hard questions long after the headlines vanish. If stories like this keep you curious—where evidence ends and influence begins—hit play, subscribe for more deep dives, and leave a review to tell us what we should dig into next. Support the show Want to host a Podcast? Buzzsprout can help! Use this link to Find out More. Check out Paul's Website Want sound like Paul G's for your podcast? Get the plug-ins you need here!

Send us a text A nameless girl lay in a Florida forest for decades, filed under Judy Doe and lost to a noisy era of serial predators and thin evidence. Forty years later, genetic genealogy restores her identity—Rebecca Sue Hill, a teenager from Arkansas—and forces us to confront how a single misidentification can bury a case and mute a family’s questions for a generation. We walk through the case from both ends: an Arkansas disappearance in the early 80s and a body found near Lake Dorr in 1984. The environmental realities—Florida heat, rapid decomposition—shrunk the evidence window, while a misstep in Little Rock prematurely closed Rebecca’s missing status. That mistake separated two investigations that needed each other. Add in a crowded field of suspects and confessors—Christopher Wilder’s east coast rampage, Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole’s performative admissions—and it becomes clearer why the truth stalled. The most compelling person of interest, Michael Roaning, is documented in Lake County the day before the remains were found and later tied to an Arkansas murder. He traded information in other cases yet stayed quiet here, raising the hard question: is silence strategy or distance from the crime? We also unpack the science that put a name back on the headstone. Investigators leveraged genealogical matches and family mitochondrial lines to verify identity, proving how modern DNA can correct the record even when it can’t deliver a conviction. From there, we examine offender profiles that fit the facts: a traveling, organized killer moving along interstate routes, focused on control over chaos. And we face the collateral damage of the earlier mistake—the Arkansas woman once buried under Rebecca’s name is nameless again and needs exhumation and testing to get her identity back. If you care about true crime that values accuracy over easy answers, this story matters. Come for the forensic insights and case mapping; stay for the hard truths about how systems fail, and how science, persistence, and community can still make things right. Subscribe, share this episode with a friend who loves investigative storytelling, and leave a review to help others find the show. Your feedback and tips can move cases like this forward. Support the show Want to host a Podcast? Buzzsprout can help! Use this link to Find out More. Check out Paul's Website

Send us a text The story starts on a quiet May evening in 1991 and never really stops echoing. A nine-year-old sets out to sell costume jewelry in a tiny Arkansas town where people wave from porches and the fields hold the day’s last light. By week’s end, she’s found in a ditch four miles away, and everything residents believe about safety, trust, and “being home before dark” begins to crack. We walk you through what happened and what didn’t: kids who saw a light-blue car and a man with long hair; a grocery stop that raised more questions than it answered; and a case that leaned on one hair in a suspect’s car—then fell apart when the wrong hairs were sent to the FBI. The ex-wife who first pointed to him never made it to the stand, and without cross-examination, her statement vanished. With no solid DNA and water erasing traces, the courtroom math never added up. Along the way, we unpack how small agencies in 1991 worked without homicide units, how early DNA limits changed everything, and why eyewitness memory—especially from children—can both illuminate and mislead. This isn’t a tidy true-crime tale. It’s a study in the limits of process, the cost of a single forensic error, and the burden families carry when “closure” is an empty word. We talk candidly about motive theories—from robbery gone cruel to a witness silenced—and why each sits on uncertain ground. We also explore how modern tools, offender registries, and renewed records searches might open doors that stayed shut for decades. If you lived in or around Hickory Ridge back then, your detail—an unfamiliar car, a sudden move, a changed routine—could matter more than you think. If this episode moves you, share it with someone who grew up in the Delta, hit follow so you don’t miss future deep dives, and leave a review to help others find the show. And if you know something—anything—about that night, call the Arkansas State Police. Let’s try again to turn an open question into an answer. Andrea and I need your help! Wherever you get your podcasts, go and rate our show with five stars and leave a review! It helps us reach more people Support the show Want to host a Podcast? Buzzsprout can help! Use this link to Find out More. Check out Paul's Website