Podcast appearances and mentions of ford ltd

Send us a textOn this episode of Shock Talk, Mike and Shane are joined by Scott from BILSTEIN's product team to dive into the raw, rewarding world of building and driving older vehicles. From the analog charm of '80s machines to early 2000s street heroes, the crew breaks down why these cars still capture hearts today. They share personal stories from the garage—Mike's first-gen Tundra, Shane's OBS Bronco, and Scott's long-loved Ford LTD—and unpack the pros and cons of restoring an old ride versus buying new. Plus, hear the hilarious tale of “The Homer Car,” the $400 LeMons racer that accidentally became a legend. If you've ever turned a wrench or chased that pure driving feel, this one's for you.

In this "For The People" episode, Nick welcomes The Consumerman, Herb Weisbaum from Checkbook.org, to answer consumer questions and discuss important updates, including changes for Tax Time, new breach data affecting credit freezes, MFA, and Pass Keys, and tips on how to get great Valentine's Day flowers without overspending. Then, Car Guy Tom Appel from Consumer Guide Automotive joins Nick to talk about why the Cybertruck is already a flop, revisit a classic ad for the 1981 Ford LTD, and uncover why Nissan is keeping one of its 2025 models under wraps. Plus, another round of Starspotter and Mystery Show! [Ep 321]

The year was 1977. The top selling cars were the Ford LTD and the Chevy Impala. The top movies were Star Wars and Saturday Night Fever. Gas was 65 cents a gallon. Stephen King published The Shining, and Farrah Fawcett published the poster. Meanwhile, over at NASA, Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 were carried aloft for a five-year mission. Yet here we are, 47 years later, and they're still going strong. Voyager I is 15.2 billion miles from Earth; Voyager II is 12.7 billion miles away, and both are traveling at about 35,000 miles-per-hour. And as amazing as all that is, that's not what I want to talk with you about in this program. I want to talk with you about the payload they both carry—specifically, the golden record.

Stephanie wants to squeeze Mom for finishing off her ailing clutch, Bill's Blazer is belching a bit of smoke and Ray recounts the tale of 'The Great Montreal Hotel Fire' that consumed his Ford LTD -or so he thought, all on this episode of the Best of Car Talk. Get access to hundreds of episodes in the Car Talk archive when you sign up for Car Talk+ at plus.npr.org/cartalkLearn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

Nils är brun i sinnet, Theo har kört Ford igen, Magnus saknar sin panther-Ford och Gunnar sågar. Dessutom har vi kört en Ford LTD med hi-jackers från 1972!

It finally happened, the lawsuits came after The Johnny Podcast Podcast and Joey Jenkins has to play hardball with the plantiff attorney on his own. 

This episode is also available as a blog post: https://thecitylife.org/2022/05/24/1969-ford-ltd-lowrider-daves-dream-goes-on-display-at-national-museum-of-american-history/ --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/citylifeorg/support

Lizard People. You've heard of them. You may even know some of them. We talk about them and don't care whether they know it or not. Mike is out for this one and Jude takes his place. He, Jon, and Tom discuss public awareness of lizard people, the involvement of NASA, the television show V, Sleestaks and the Land of the Lost, helpful characteristics to identify lizard people among us, the good ones versus the bad ones, whether secrecy indicates malfeasance, the ant people and the mole people and the southwest Native Americans, flat Earthers, politicians being duplicitous cold blood creatures, vampires and zombies and eagles and serpents, dinosaur origins and the inner world, Orion's belt, intelligence quotient distribution, cold rooms, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas, centaurs and gnomes and positive lizard people stories, Mark Zuckerberg stating he is not a lizard person, fear of snakes, lizard brain, David Icke and the Rothschilds, The Reptoid Research Center, underground homes, John Rhodes, cattle mutilation and MRSA and pig feeding operations, amphibious versus ambidextrous, Tom being in contact with all sentient beings, Christopher Davis and the Lizard-Man of Bishopville South Carolina, Marilyn Manson, sea level change and the formation of ancient coastal scarp formations, an attack on a Ford LTD in defense of territory, President Barack Obama, the three areas in which lizard people dwell, James Webb telescope, Portland Oregon, lizard people and earth fissures, multidimensional phase change, the Altrusians and their care for human devolution in the western United States, mis-correlation with negative events, Dick Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney, lizard people can't lie, the need for more information, and Alex Jones. https://www.patreon.com/ThreeEqualsFive https://threeequalsfive.buzzsprout.com https://open.spotify.com/show/7yxcbdSbd1e8w20ooLLmuj https://podcasts.apple.com/lk/podcast/three-equals-five/id1590436951 https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-three-equals-five-89552834  #Reptoid #Conspiracy #LizardPeople #Sleestaks #Bigfoot #UFOTwitter Reptoid Research Center http://www.reptoids.com  David Icke: Love and Lizard People https://u.osu.edu/vanzandt/2019/02/11/david-icke-love-and-lizard-people/  Mark Zuckerberg not a Lizard https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/06/15/i-am-not-a-lizard-mark-zuckerberg-is-latest-celebrity-asked-about-reptilian-conspiracy/  The Lizard-Man of Bishopville http://www.reptoids.com/Vault/Bishopville.htm  Discovery MattersA collection of stories and insights on matters of discovery that advance life...Listen on: Apple Podcasts SpotifySupport the show

This week on The Best of Car Talk, Chris has flowers growing in his Belvedere, after birdseed got into his fresh air vent. To make matters worse, a kid stuffed chunks of blue cheese in the vents, so the car is stinky, too. Elsewhere, good intentions go really bad when Todd buys his girlfriend a 1973 Ford LTD, on the premise it would be safe and easy to work on. The car's loud backfire has led to one dead cat, several deceased goldfish, and one very strained relationship. Also, Andy wants to know if electronic gizmos can improve his Suburban's gas mileage to, say, 5 miles per gallon; and Dari wants to know if her truck is safe to drive, or sell, after falling off a lift. If she decides to sell, does she need to mention it?

Go to https://deadboltmysterysociety.com/ and use the promo code: deadbolt20 for 20% OFF your first order!Scary Mysteries Youtube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiE86yS_VM7qjiICqRPmwLQ?view_as=subscriberContact US: info@newdawnfilm.comHave you been to the Marshall County Historical Society Museum on E. Johnson Avenue, Warren, Minnesota? Visitors will feel the nostalgia of living in a small 1880s community through its historical buildings at the Settler’s Square. A stroll along the boardwalk presents attractions like a vintage bank, barbershop, tavern, school, church and many more. Its new 10,000 square foot-Visitor Centre has been attracting more guests because of its many exhibits, war artifacts room, collection of antique vehicles, and the so-called “UFO Car,” undoubtedly one of the museum’s star attractions. According to Sherlyn Meiers, Marshall County Historical Society Director, large crowds come to the museum just to see the early 1970s Ford LTD cruiser. And what is so special about this outmoded car that piques the interest of more people than a 1912 Maxwell, a Hart Parr Steamer, and a Studebaker Wagon of 1870s? The car with a shattered windshield and bent antennas is by all means not just any ordinary car. It was a central character in an alleged UFO encounter in 1979 which is popularly known as the “Val Johnson Incident” with Marshall County, Minnesota Deputy Sheriff Val Johnson as the sole witness of an out-of-this-world experience. Was it perpetrated by a force from outside of the human realm? Did Johnson face head-on an unidentified flying object?

101. Earning Freedom with Michael Santos   Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term (1.1)   I’m reading from chapter 1 of my book, Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term   For more information, visit PrisonProfessors.com         I can feel the DEA agents waiting. I don’t know where or when they’ll strike, but I know they’re near. I’ve never been arrested before, and I’m scared. My wife, Lisa, sits next to me in our Porsche convertible, clutching my hand. We’ve only been married five months. She’s a glamorous South American blonde who looks spectacular in her form-fitting designer clothes, better still in a bikini. With her beside me, I feel powerful. I’ve built my life on extravagance and appearances, and Lisa completes the image I want to project. She’s five years older than I am and I always try to appear strong for her–man enough for her. I don’t want her to see my fear, but inside I’m shaking. Shadowy forces feel like they’re closing in, but I don’t have a grasp on what’s coming. Instinct, intuition, a sense of impending doom keeps crowding my consciousness. This high-flying life is about to change. I can feel it. Lisa and I have just left Miami where I learned from Raymond, a well-known criminal lawyer I’ve had on retainer, that a grand jury in Seattle just indicted me on drug trafficking charges.  Raymond said that my arrest was imminent and that the criminal charges I’m facing could include the possibility of decades in prison. After hearing that unsettling news, I followed his instructions and gave him my diamond-faced Rolex to hold. Then I told Lisa how to make arrangements for his $200,000 fee. After leaving Raymond’s office, I drive us toward the Rickenbacker Causeway that leads to Key Biscayne. Despite my attorney’s warning, I’m going home. He convinced me that a huge difference existed between an indictment and a conviction. By paying Raymond all the money I’ve got to fight the case, I’m hoping for a fresh start from the mess I’ve made of my life. I’ve been miserable for months, knowing that I needed to make a change. ******* We arrive at the entry into Key Colony, the private oceanfront community on Key Biscayne where Lisa and I live. The security guard raises the gate and I drive the Porsche forward. We make eye contact, and I sense resentment in his phony smile as he waves us through. I’m half his age, and for the past year I’ve driven through this gate every day in my flashy sports car with Lisa beside me, wearing a gold watch that cost more than he would make in a year. Today he’s sporting a smug grin. Maybe I’m paranoid. No, I shake my head as I accelerate through the gate and turn right. My gut roils with a subconscious awareness that I’ll never drive through this tropical paradise again. I park in the garage beneath Botanica, the building where we live. Lisa and I walk arm-in-arm to the elevator, not speaking. I’m alert, watching, expecting the feds to rush me at any second. With heightened senses, I’m acutely aware of the salty ocean air filling my nostrils. My stomach churns as I push the elevator button and we ascend. The elevator door slides open and we step onto the top floor. An open breezeway with palm trees and lush, tropical vegetation on either side leads to our apartment. There they are, in front of us. The three men wearing dark blue jackets wait, eyeing me as I approach. “Are you Michael Santos?” “Yes.” In an instant, I see three guns aiming at my head. “Freeze! Put your hands out where we can see them!” One of the agents then begins to recite my Miranda rights. I comply with their orders. Lisa steps away from me, gasping. One agent clasps my hands behind my neck as he searches me for weapons, though I’ve never carried a gun. Then he lowers my arms, pulling them behind my back.  I hear clicking and feel cold metal as he slams handcuffs over my wrists. When the agents see that I’m not resisting, their tone becomes less hostile. They begin to question me and, following Raymond’s instructions, I refuse to answer. “I want my attorney present before I say anything.” I’m embarrassed that Lisa sees me so helpless, so impotent in the grip of authority. “Do you want to say good-bye to Lisa?” I cringe at the familiar way her name rolls off the agent’s tongue, and I realize I’m really being taken away. “Michael!” Lisa’s tortured cry echoes across the breezeway. “Michael! What should I do?” I don’t turn around. To see her face would only prolong the agony of the moment. One agent is in front of me. I’m sandwiched between the other two and I feel hands gripping the chains of my handcuffs. I keep walking with my head down, humiliated. ******* It was 1987 and I was 23. For nearly two years I’d been the leader of a small group that distributed cocaine in Seattle. The scheme wasn’t sophisticated. Those at the core of our little enterprise were my classmates from Shorecrest High School, in the North Seattle suburb of Lake Forest Park. Sensing a huge market for cocaine among Seattle’s young professionals, I joined my friend Alex in a partnership to capitalize on it. I found suppliers in Miami. My friend John and his girlfriend, Lori, drove the drugs across the country and delivered them to Tony in Seattle, who stored them in his apartment. Alex coordinated deliveries to customers using Loren and Rico as local drivers. The shallow layers of people separating me from the actual cocaine fed my delusions that I wasn’t really a drug dealer. Instead, I liked to think of myself as an entrepreneur. To the extent that I thought about it, I provided a simple service. No weapons. No violence. My friends and I only sold to consenting adults, so I equated our actions to those who supplied speakeasies during prohibition.  It was my way of glamorizing the scheme to camouflage the severity of potential consequences. The government, of course, saw things differently. Ronald Reagan occupied the White House and he was ramping up the “War on Drugs.” I may have previously seen myself as a businessman, but riding through the streets of Miami in the back seat of a black Ford LTD with my hands locked behind my back, in the custody of DEA agents, left no doubt that I was in big trouble. I thought of Lisa. I thought of my parents. I wondered if my attorney, Raymond, could really get me out of this mess. ******* “So, what’s up? Did you think you could run from us forever?” The two agents in the front seat switch to a friendlier approach. The driver has carrot-red hair, styled with a flattop and military fade. His partner looks hip, wearing feathered brown hair that he holds in place with his stylish sunglasses. They try to engage me in conversation, but I’m silent, deep in thought as I stare out of the tinted windows at the glass-faced, high-rise buildings of downtown Miami. “Talk to us,” the driver pipes in. “This may be your last chance to save yourself.” I’m mute, afraid, sensing that I’ve reached a pivotal moment. “Alex and Tony have given us plenty already. Who’re you tryin’ to protect? This is the time,” the driver speaks with authority. “No one knows you’ve been busted but us. Your pals cut sweetheart deals, left you hangin’ in the wind. Take us to your suppliers and I’ll turn this car around right now.” “You don’t have much time.” The other agent stares at me, tempting me, trying to persuade me. I can tell that he isn’t much older than I am. “Once we move forward, you’re booked, game over. Speak up now and you’ll be able to go home to that pretty little wife of yours.” I don’t say a word. It’s not that I feel an allegiance to any criminal code. As crazy as it sounds, I don’t even consider myself a criminal. It’s simply that escaping problems by betraying others doesn’t appeal to me as much as the chance for total vindication. Raymond suggests we can win through a trial, and I’m swinging for the fences, going for it.  I cling to those hopes, but I’m also conflicted because a deep shame seeps through me. For years I’ve been telling lies, though I’m yet not ready to confront the reality of who I am, of what I am. I desperately want to resume a normal life and spare myself the humiliation of having to admit that I’m a drug dealer. As the DEA agents urge me to confess everything, I think about Lisa. I’ve come to define myself through material possessions, and she is my trophy. I live a fantasy life with her, locked in a constant struggle to mask my shallowness. Cooperating with the DEA and informing against others to spare myself would show weakness, implying that I lacked the wits and enough power to resolve the situation.  It wouldn’t be the forceful image I’ve worked so hard to project. I remain silent, sealing my fate. ******* I’ve never been to prison, nor have I been locked in custody before, but I did have a previous problem with the law. In high school, I organized a sports gambling pool. When one student couldn’t pay up he offered to settle the debt with a stereo he stole. I accepted. A few months later, when police officers caught him in another theft, he told the officers that he gave the stereo to me. That led to my conviction for receiving stolen property.  When I confided in my father about the problems of the stolen stereo, he stood by my side. For my sanction, a judge ordered that I pay $900 in restitution and that I fill out a form for a probation officer each month for nine months. We concealed the incident from my mother and sisters, not wanting to worry them. ******* In the back of the DEA car, I think about how my arrest is going to devastate my family. I’m now in a predicament that’s going to expose the deceitful life I’ve been living and I’m humiliated, yet I still can’t bring myself to come clean because I’ve got too much invested in the lies I’ve already told. In choosing this path, with Raymond fighting my battle, I’ve got to go all the way. ******* My father was a Cuban immigrant. Together with my American mother he built a contracting company in Seattle and provided well for our family. We lived in a beautiful five-bedroom home that sat on several acres in Lake Forest Park. A stream with waterfalls ran through our front yard, with a thick forest behind the house. My parents worked hard to provide my two sisters and me with every advantage, to prepare us for success, grooming me to lead the family company. My father took pride in operating heavy equipment, pouring concrete, and creating work of lasting value. His company specialized in public works, installing highway lighting and traffic signal systems. My dad was an old-country kind of guy, and he aspired to teach me a strong work ethic. But I resented pulling wire and carrying pipe. I especially dreaded working on weekends or during summers when my friends were waterskiing on Lake Washington. Even though I worked by my dad’s side from the time I was six, I couldn’t see myself doing physical labor, not for the long term. I wanted the good times my friends enjoyed. After graduating from high school with mediocre grades, I maneuvered my way out of the field and into the office, wanting to wear clean clothes and to position myself close to the money. With high expectations, my parents gave me the position of vice president, despite the fact that I lacked the maturity to wield the responsibility such a title implied. They trusted me, and I exploited their confidence in my abilities. I’ve always been driven by the pursuit of money and possessions, with a sense of entitlement, wanting more than what my parents gave. Their friends were professionals and business owners, people whose influence and style impressed me. The family business was small when I joined it full-time after graduating from high school, employing only a few electricians. My dad worked alongside them to install illumination and electrical systems while my mom kept the books. The company remained free of debt and afforded us a comfortable life, though it wasn’t enough for my tastes. To me, bigger seemed better. Rather than studying and working through a four-year apprenticeship program to earn the state licenses I would need to assume control of the business, I thought of ways to expand without having to dirty my hands. I could always hire people with the necessary licenses and reasoned that my energies were better spent on increasing revenues. I joined trade organizations and socialized with other contractors. Those relationships led to collusion, bid rigging, and other violations of state contract laws. My parents didn’t object too strenuously as the company’s annual revenues increased from hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars. To finance the growth, I persuaded my parents to sign agreements that required them to pledge their home and assets as collateral for higher credit lines with banks, suppliers, and bonding companies. Within three years I convinced my parents to expand the company from one of boring stability into a leveraged business with more than 50 employees. My dad could oversee jobs across the state while I acted as the big man, schmoozing with people and working with numbers that impressed me. ******* Greed was a sinister enticement, clouding my judgment. My friend Alex had been supplementing his income by selling cocaine. Since I had unencumbered access to money from our family’s business, I proposed a scheme to Alex that would finance bigger coke deals and allow us to work together. I was 21, and the prospect of a quick score seemed harmless, too good to pass up. Taylor, a mutual acquaintance of ours, agreed to supply us with several kilos of cocaine. For our first transaction I pulled cash from the company account to pay Taylor on the morning of delivery, and Alex contacted customers to sell the cocaine during the same day. By late afternoon Alex gave me back the money to reimburse the company’s account. The deal left Alex and me with tens of thousands in profits. All went as planned until the following day, when a maid discovered more than $100,000 in Taylor’s hotel suite and reported it. Hotel management contacted the Seattle police who seized the money. When Taylor tried to claim it, the police required an explanation. “Just give us a receipt that shows how you received the currency and you can have it,” the officers told him. Taylor called me at work to explain what happened and he asked for my help. “I’ll give you 20 percent if you can provide a receipt that will get me the money back.” “Thirty percent,” I countered. Since I’d withdrawn a substantial amount of cash to finance the transaction, I had a plausible explanation, or so I thought. We concocted a story that we were going to use the money to establish a leasing company. I then brought Taylor to the high-rise office tower of our company’s attorney, and hatched a plan to bamboozle him into helping us retrieve the money. I had an excellent relationship with Geoff, who was a partner in the firm.  Since I’d worked with the attorney before, I assumed he would simply make a few phone calls and resolve the complication. Taylor and I sat facing Geoff across his polished cherry wood desk. His office overlooked the mid-rise buildings of South Seattle and Puget Sound. “I gave the money to Taylor so that he could make a cash offer to purchase construction equipment from a contractor who was going out of business.” Geoff listened patiently to my story, but in his eyes I saw skepticism. Lying, I fabricated a story, telling him that Taylor and I were then going to lease the equipment back to my father’s company.  Supposedly, we would rely upon the leases to collateralize a bank loan to reimburse the company. “Is your dad a part of this new venture you’re launching?” I still remember the doubt in Geoff’s voice from his first question. When I told him that I’d made this deal on my own, Geoff nodded, then turned his interrogation to Taylor, who sat across the polished desk as if he were an accomplished businessman there to consult on a corporate merger rather than seek help to retrieve a duffle bag full of cash. “And where do you live?” Geoff’s question was direct. “I keep an apartment in The Grosvenor House.” Taylor answered. “That’s on Queen Anne, isn’t it?” “That’s right.”  Taylor didn’t yet realize that he was out of his depth. “About five minutes north of downtown?” Geoff persisted. “Yes.” “So you keep an apartment in the city.” Geoff nodded, holding a finger to his temple as he rocked in his chair. “I do.” “Then help me understand why you’d take a hotel room a few blocks away from where you live. More to the point, why would you leave so much cash in a hotel room while you went to the gym for a morning workout?” Taylor stumbled through Geoff’s penetrating questions. I remember squirming in my chair, knowing the meeting was a disaster.  The longer we sat there, the more I realized how foolish I’d been to think that I could manipulate a skillful attorney with lies. Geoff said he’d make some inquiries with the police and call me later with a plan. I walked out of the office feeling sick to my stomach, knowing that I’d permanently destroyed my reputation. I wouldn’t have the courage to face Geoff again. “Are you alone?” Geoff asked when he reached me in the car later that afternoon. “Yes.” I was driving north on Interstate 5 toward the company office. Rain drizzled on the black Bronco I drove. “Taylor isn’t with you?”  He sounded concerned for my welfare. “No, I’m alone.” “I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer honestly. Okay?” “Of course.”  I knew what was coming. “Does your father know about this money?” “No.” “Did you give that money to Taylor?” “No.” “Does that money really belong to you?” “No.” “I didn’t think so. Michael, I want you to listen very carefully to me. I’m speaking to you as a friend and as your attorney. You have a brilliant future with your father’s company in this city. But I smell drugs with Taylor. I want you to run as far away from him as you can. He is a cancer and he will destroy you. Do you understand?” “Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry I brought him to your office.” “That’s okay. We’ll keep our meeting today between us.” Despite his kind tone, I sensed that I’d irretrievably lost his respect. I hung up, humiliated. Taylor had created his own problem by leaving his money in a hotel suite while he exercised. By intervening I made Taylor’s problems my own; there wasn’t any way for me to erase what I’d done or re-establish trust with Geoff. Instead of running away from Taylor as Geoff advised, I did the opposite. I abandoned my responsibilities and obligations to our family business. My poor judgment had forced my hand, I thought. With the irrevocable damage I’d done to my reputation I left Seattle for Miami, intending to earn a few million by becoming a coke dealer. ******* And that’s how the scheme began that led to where I sit now, locked up. I’m a prisoner of the Drug Enforcement Administration, on my way to places unknown. ******* The driver turns into an office complex and parks. The third agent, the one who searched me and cuffed me during the arrest, parks a separate, identical car beside us. I exit the car with one agent holding the chain of my handcuffs behind my back. I’m like a dog on a leash, being walked into what I presume is a field office. Once inside, the agents begin to process me. They unlock my handcuffs so I can hold a nameplate beneath my chin while one of the agents photographs my head. Another leads me to a station for fingerprinting. They invite me to cooperate again, to talk with them in exchange for a reprieve from jail. Last chance. The ship is sailing, fading away on the horizon, but I’m not onboard. Disgusted with my refusal to spill the information they’re trying to coerce from me, an agent leads me to a room the size of a broom closet and locks me inside. “Get used to it.” He warns, tossing the words over his shoulder as he walks away. I’m alone in the tiny room. A bench extends the length of one wall. I sit, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. I’ve been immersed in a scheme of selling cocaine for nearly two years and now it’s come to this. Although I’m not ready now, I’ll soon have to answer to the world for the lies I’ve been living. I knew my parents suspected something. My mother even accused me once, crying about how she didn’t want to lose her son to prison. I tried to console her while simultaneously stonewalling her questions about why I had moved to Miami, about why I wouldn’t provide her with a phone number or an address. My irresponsible choices broke her heart long ago. With arms folded across my chest, I stare at the floor, leaning my back against the cold brick wall. I’d like to ask forgiveness, to take my lashes and start fresh, but instead I cling to Raymond’s assurances that I’ll prevail if I simply tough it out. With stress and the bright lights exhausting me, I lose track of time, though I’m sure that more than an hour has passed. My head aches and I’m dizzy. Finally an agent opens the door.  “Cuff up!” He slaps the cuffs around my wrists and locks them behind my back again. The agents take me outside to their car.  They unlock and open the back door, then press me inside. I don’t know where I’m going but I presume I’m about to see the inside of a jail. We drive a short distance and turn into the parking lot of a complex enclosed by double rows of chain-link fencing. Coils of glistening razor wire loop through the tops of the tall gates and many more coils of wire lie stacked atop each other on the ground in the wide space of no-man’s land between the fences. No one could escape without cutting himself to shreds. It’s hot and humid outside. Sweat forms under my arms, across my chest and back as I step out of the air-conditioned car. The agents march me toward the entrance of the Metropolitan Correctional Center, Miami. Prison guards from a control center press a button to unlock the heavy steel door electronically and I hear the click of the dead bolt. A guard from the Federal Bureau of Prisons wearing gray slacks, a white shirt, and maroon tie accepts manila folders handed over by the agents escorting me. They exchange words, though my mind goes blank and I can’t comprehend their conversation. When the guard searches me, looks in my mouth, inside my ears, and tugs on the handcuffs to ensure they’re secure, it’s clear that I no longer share a common humanity with them. The guard leads me inside a series of gates that roll behind us, locking me deeper inside the prison. I spend interminable hours in holding cells, sometimes alone, sometimes with other prisoners. I complete forms declaring that I don’t suffer from health issues or require medication.  Then I stand for photographs and more fingerprints–my life as a federal prisoner has begun I exchange my brown alligator skin loafers and matching belt, linen slacks, and a silk dress shirt now reeking from sweat, for elastic-waist khaki trousers, a white t-shirt, and blue canvas slip-on deck shoes. Without my clothes I feel my identity slip away. It’s ten at night when I receive a roll of sheets, a blanket, and towel. Then I descend into my first housing unit. The rectangular building is a two-tiered shell of concrete and steel with hundreds of sullen prisoners loitering in the common areas. Some of the men stare at me. While walking through the riffraff inside, I’m struck by the level of noise. My thoughts wander. Who are these people? What did they do? Can I handle myself in a fight with them? I see a line for the telephones and make my way through the crowd. When my turn comes I call Lisa. Prisoners crowd around on all sides as I press the phone against one ear while holding my finger inside the other to silence the noise. Lisa’s voice reminds me of all that I’m missing. I mask my emotions, trying to appear stoic. Between her sobs she tells me that Raymond told her I have a court date scheduled in the morning. “I’ll be there,” Lisa promises. “Your mom is coming with me.” “You told my parents?” My question comes across more like an accusation. I’ve lost control over the moment of truth, and it bothers me that I’ll have to confront them. “I had to. Raymond said he wanted to show that you have family support. Your mom wants to talk to you.” During my 18 months as a drug dealer in Miami, the family business collapsed, devastating my parents financially and emotionally. I’ve repressed the guilt that my reckless ambition caused the business to fail, but it surfaces again with my confinement, and it’s heavy. My parents salvaged the assets they could and relocated to Miami, where my father’s family lived. Their marriage didn’t survive the disruption and my mother now lives with my younger sister in a Miami Beach condo. The stable family and household where my two sisters and I had grown up were in shambles, only a memory. “Don’t worry, Mom,” I say in an attempt to ease her distress after Lisa connects us. “I didn’t do anything and I’ve got the best lawyer in Miami. You’ll see. He’s going to clear me of all this nonsense.” “Oh, Michael...your father and I are so worried.” My mother sobs between her whispered words. “What have you done?” “Nothing, Mom. I swear. I didn’t do anything. You’ll see. My attorney is going to clear all this up. Give it time. We just have to trust him.” “What are we supposed to do? What are we supposed to say? I can’t believe this is happening!” My time on the phone ends, not with a good-bye, but when a guard presses a switch to disconnect the call. He marches me to my room and locks me inside.

https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Black-Against-Memphis-Killers-ebook/dp/B06XVT2976/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=blood+on+black&qid=1559059428&s=gateway&sr=8-1 https://www.amazon.com/Where-Monsters-Go-Against-Memphis-ebook/dp/B06XVNXCJV/ref=sr_1_1?crid=XNLYB8QUIQ7F&keywords=where+the+monsters+go&qid=1559059470&s=gateway&sprefix=where+the+monsters+go%2Caps%2C167&sr=8-1 https://www.amazon.com/Case-Against-West-Memphis-Killers-ebook/dp/B07C7C4DCH/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=gary+meece&qid=1559059536&s=gateway&sr=8-3 https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0753HJZ1P/?ie=UTF8&keywords=gary%20meece&qid=1559059573&ref_=sr_1_6&s=gateway&sr=8-6 https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Black-Against-Memphis-Killers-ebook/dp/B06XVT2976/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=gary+meece&qid=1559059573&s=gateway&sr=8-2   "L.G. Stated ... that they were talking about him that he was the 4th suspect."     Like Heather Cliett and Vicki Hutcheson, L.G. Hollingsworth Jr. is an oddly ubiquitous character who popped up in the strangest places in the West Memphis 3 story.  L.G. was listed among possible teenage suspects just days after the killings.  Two lists were compiled by Lt. James Sudbury from information from Steve Jones and Jerry Driver, familiar with the teens as Juvenile Court officers.  One list had Damien Echols at the top, followed by Jason Baldwin, L.G., Domini Teer and, further down, Murray Ferris. A similar list had Echols at the top, followed by Baldwin, L.G., Domini and, further down, Ferris and Chris Littrell.  While  all the others were often listed as members of a Satanic group or witch cult,  there's little evidence that L.G. was involved in occult activity.  Jessie Misskelley. though well-known to law enforcement, was not on the lists. Like Jessie, L.G.  was in frequent trouble with the law. Investigators soon discovered he called or visited Domini, his “cousin,” regularly and was well acquainted with Echols. Hollingsworth also had formed a friendship with an older man that officers found questionable.  L.G.'s aunt, Narlene Hollingsworth, called in a tip on May 9 that added to early suspicions about L.G. Besides stating she had seen Damien and Domini walking away from the murder site on May 5, she said  “L.G. made a statement on Thursday that he knew about what happened before anyone else. L.G. has 666 on the side of his shoes.” Narlene made a similar claim about Echols' boots.  In a case loaded with confusing family relations, the Hollingsworth connections were particularly elaborate. When asked on the stand during the Echols/Baldwin trial to identify L.G., Narlene said, “... He's my ex-husband's son, which is -” The attorney asked, “So it'd be your step son -- at one time he was your step son then.” Narlene: “No.” Scott Davidson: “No?” Narlene: “No, I'm - I'm his aunt through marriage. It's just by marriage.” Davidson: “You're his aunt by marriage. But he's your ex-husband's son?” Narlene: “Yes sir. I know it's confusing.” Davidson: “I'm confused on that one. Now, L.G. is you -” Narlene: “- Ex-husband's -” Davidson: “-Ex-husband's son, but you're his aunt by marriage, how did that happen?” Judge David Burnett: “Is that really relevant? Let's don't try to sort it out,” prompting laughter in the courtroom.  Narlene wasn't just L.G.'s aunt. She had once been married to L.G. Sr., divorcing him after he became involved with her best friend. Narlene then married L.G. Sr.'s brother, Ricky Sr.  Narlene was also related after a fashion to Domini,  whose mother, Dian Teer, had a sister, Dixie Hufford, who was divorced from the father of Ricky Sr. and L.G. Sr.   Domini named Dixie Hollingsworth (Hufford) as one of her relatives in an early interview.  Hufford was tied in with the Echols sighting, as well as reports of the puzzling activities of L.G. Narlene continually referred to Hufford as Dixie Hollingsworth and described her on the stand as “my ex-husband's use to be step mother” (Narlene and Ricky divorced between the time of the sighting and the trial). The Teers rented a trailer in Lakeshore from Pamela Hollingsworth, who was Narlene's sister and had married into the Hollingsworth family.  L.G. Jr. spent much of May 5 riding around with Narlene and hanging around Domini before showing up late that evening at the Flash Market laundromat on Ingram Boulevard,  managed by his grandfather's ex-wife, Hufford.  After Narlene's tip, West Memphis police made contact with L.G. the next day, Monday, May 10.  Hollingsworth was a  dark-haired 17-year-old ninth-grade dropout recently employed as a sacker at the Big Star West grocery. He had “little gangster” tattooed on his right biceps and a cross on his left first finger.  The use of “little gangster” drew on his name, L.G.; the initials did not stand for anything.  No record seems available on the May 10 interview, but apparently L.G. said little that would allay suspicions.  At the time that police were talking to L.G., down the hall they were interviewing Echols, who named L.G. as a possible suspect.  Police promptly searched the Hollingsworth home on McCauley Circle, just around the corner from the murder site, and confiscated a knife in a sheath and four pairs of tennis shoes. That afternoon, L.G.'s name appeared in a tip from an anonymous caller taken by Mike Allen “who stated she had overheard that a Dominick & a Damion killed the three little boys & that L.G. last name unknown took and laudered there clothes. Caller stated that Damon had body parts in a box from the children. The caller stated that she didn't want to give her name & that she heard that L.G.'s mother was going to lie about L.G.'s whereabouts.” Information about “body parts in a box” persisted well into the investigation, though nothing conclusive was determined about the notorious “stinky box.” L.G. said the box contained test papers from a vo-tech class.  Also on May 10, police interviewed Narlene at her trailer in Lakeshore. She told Detective Charlie Dabbs and Lt. Diane Hester about sighting Damien and Domini walking along the service road near the Blue Beacon about 9:30 p.m. on May 5. She and her family had gone to pick up Hufford.  “… So, then when I talked to Dixie Hollingsworth, I got to the laundry mat, she said that L.G. Hollingsworth had just left from there in some car. And, I said uh, that's funny, she said that it is and she never did say why, and I thought it was funny, but I thought that he had just left from there and they were coming down the street.”  “She never did say why, and I thought it was funny” would sum up the episode of L.G. at the laundromat.  Narlene had found out about the missing boys the day after the killings while driving L.G. to his first day of work at Big Star, describing intuitive suspicions and hunches in her distinctively vivid style. “It was late, well, when I come back over in this area, again Thursday, because I promise L.G. that I would take him to work, cause he didn't have no way but me, OK, when I come back down the street, I seen a white car that belonged to a policeman or an undercover car, you know and they were two others out there too, and there was a crowd of people gathered around and I said, that's unusual.” This occurred at about 10 a.m. at Barton and 14th. “Cause they were all gathered up there and I didn't know what was going on, so I went down there and L.G. was saying, get me on to work. So, anyway I went on and got him on to work, so then later on that day he got off early ... I know he come to my house about 2:40 or a quarter to three and I thought that he would be working a little later than that on Wednesday, but anyway my kids started hollering about those kids, you know ... and later on that night, he came over there in a yellow car with some boxes in them, now what was in the boxes I don't know. The kids said that the box was about this big and some thing like this and they didn't know what was in the box, but he said don't look at it, don't touch it, don't step on it or I'll hurt you. …" Narlene had seen L.G. earlier on May 10, much to the surprise of her interrogators. “…The day I run into L.G. the day at the police department, he begged me to go in there and sit down with his mother and I said, I can't do that. He said that I wasn't at no laundry mat Wednesday night, I said, yes you was, he said, naw I wasn't, I said yes you was, cause Ricky Hollingsworth” — so says the transcript but Narlene was referring to Dixie, not Ricky — “said that I had just missed you. I said, you better stop lying or they are going to get you for murdering these children, and they are going to want to know why you lie,  he said alright, I was there, I said I know you was.” Narlene told Dabbs and Hester that the encounter had not been on Thursday, as they first assumed, but that day at the police station. Narlene explained, “I went there to pay my husband's fine of $25 that he got in trouble and he got a DUI, I think …. Today I went down there to pay on his fine, L.G. come running out of the building where the police department, he said you go in there and tell them that you are mommy and I said, no, I won't. I said where is your mother and he said, I don't know but she won't come up there with me, I said, well, I said, they will ask you some questions and you answer them, I said, they will let you go. And then if you start telling a bunch of lies and they catch you in them, he said well uh, I wasn't over there in that area that day, I said, yes you was L.G., and then he said, I was, I said, I know you was. “He said, if you start saying that about Damien, you're going to get in trouble, I said, well, the mommy is up there saying stating that he was, Damien was with her all the time. I said, well the mommy is a liar ain't she. …” Police didn't take a statement from “the mommy,” apparently referring to the never-credible Pamela Hutchison, until two days later, May 12. Narlene continued: “He said, you seen him coming down the street, I said, yes L.G. and I am not lying for him. I am not scared of that boy. He said, well don't you put yourself in that kind of trouble, well I'm going to take care of L.G.” As Narlene predicted, L.G. remained under suspicion long into the case.  Suspicions still linger.  The next day, May 11, police got another tip about L.G. from Robin Taylor, a third-grade teacher in Horn Lake, Miss., just south of Memphis.  According to the report on her phone call, “This date a 8 year old student told her that she needed to talk to her about the murders in West Memphis. “The girl said that her cousin came home that he is 19 and that he had blood on his clothes and himself. “That her cousin had something concealed in a box and put it in his car and told his family that if they even went near the car he would kill them. “Her Aunt said she would lie for him if he was involved and tell the police he was with her at the time of the murders. “That the police had already talked to her cousin. “Teacher advised that this was a good and usually quiet student and it would be out of character for her to lie.” Notes indicated the student was Sara Hollingsworth, daughter of Debra Hollingsworth, The cousin was L.G., and two of the aunts were L.G.'s mother Linda and Narlene.  Also, “Sara was afraid her dad would find out she told.”  The notes also indicated that L.G. was thinking about going to Georgia and that he had arranged children's clothing on the table at the laundromat. L.G. was talking about getting out of town, but to Kentucky not Georgia.  There was no other mention of L.G. having children's clothing at the laundromat.  Most of the victims' clothing was found stuck at the ends of large sticks thrust into the ditch bed.  Police did not contact the Horn Lake Hollingsworths until well after  the arrests. Detectives made a number of attempts to contact Debra Hollingsworth on June 15 and drove to her home June 16, only to find no one there.  A neighbor said they were at a church camp. Police left a note asking her to call.  Durham finally talked to Sarah on June 17.  “The interview took place at the Christian church camp near Sardis, Miss. Mrs. Debra Hollingsworth, mother of Sarah, was present. Sarah denied ever seeing L.G. Hollingsworth with blood on his clothes and said she did not see him put anything in his car or threaten anybody. She denied knowing anything about this alleged incident.” Other than rumors and anonymous tips, there was little evidence that L.G. did more at the laundromat than drop by briefly to get a telephone number.  Questions about the “stinky box” may linger forever.  The primary evidence, the confessions of Misskelley, made no mention of any involvement of L.G. or anyone other than the West Memphis 3.   Questions about Hollingsworth's involvement remained purely circumstantial for decades. Then a couple of career criminals serving long terms in Arkansas prisons on rape convictions gave sworn statements in 2013  that L.G., Buddy Lucas, Terry Hobbs and David Jacoby killed the boys after being discovered at a sex and drugs orgy in Robin Hood Hills. The story got some play in the news, but investigators did not take the wild story seriously.  Back in 1993, however, Hollingsworth's inability to come up with a consistent, corroborated alibi caused serious doubt about his professed innocence. Soon after his first interview with police on May 10, L.G. was given a polygraph test.  The results of the polygraph show up in a brief report on the www.callahan.8k.com Web site: “Didn't know boys had been killed until Thursday 3 p.m. when his aunt told him” And “Last time in Robin Hood Hills was Jan. or Feb.” “Says he suspects Damien.”  The notes indicate deception in the answer about Damien.  While it seems unlikely that L.G. would gone out of his way to help Echols, L.G. was on friendly terms with Domini.  He told investigators he went to the laundromat to get Domini's number. Her standing alibi was that she was home all evening with her mother and not on the telephone until 10 p.m., when she and Damien began a long telephone argument.  On May 20, police had received a tip that Dixie “Hubbard use to be Hollingsworth” had told “someone” that two boys and a girl came in the laundromat where she worked on Ingram at  10-10:30 p.m. on May 5 to clean mud and blood off their clothes.  “Boone,” the tipster, said she was related to one of them, whose name was Hollingsworth.  Bryn Ridge and Gary Gitchell visited Hufford, 50, on May 20 at her townhouse apartment.   Ridge wrote:  “She reported that L.G. Hollingsworth came to the Laundry where she works on 5-5-93 in a small light colored car and asked her for Domini's number. This occurred at about 9:00 to 9:30PM. Dixie stated that Narlene and Ricky Hollingsworth picked her up from work at a few minutes before 10:00PM that night and took her home. “Dixie came to work later and Linda Hollingsworth came in asking about where L.G. had been during the evening on 5-5-93. When Dixie told her of him coming in to the laundry in the small car she asked if she was sure that it wasn't Richard Simpson's car. Dixie stated that she knew Richard's car and that it was not his…. “Dixie stated that we need to talk to Linda Hollingsworth but for us to know that she believes she will likely try to protect L.G. “Dixie believed that L.G. had on a white shirt and tie that night he came to the laundry.”   Hufford made no mention of L.G.  — or anyone else  — washing mud and blood off clothes.  Linda was L.G.'s mother, and there is no record of the police talking with her.   L.G. said he was at Simpson's home in the evening; Simpson initially denied that. L.G. was driving a car unfamiliar to family members.  Why was he wearing a white shirt and tie to visit a laundromat?  Simpson did remember loaning him a tie, and Hollingsworth was scheduled to start his new job on May 6. The L.G. story took a brief detour to Kentucky, where L.G.  traveled with Simpson to see L.G.'s “fiancee,” Liza McDaniels.  West Memphis police received a message from Sgt. Jim Dorrow in Caldwell, Ky., on May 16, concerning Simpson and L.G., who had been riding a yellow 1979 Ford LTD around Princeton, Ky., in a suspicious manner.   They had rented two rooms in a motel.   Liza's uncle and aunt alerted police about the tryst. Liza was found in bed with L.G.  Simpson produced an ID showing he was a building inspector with the West Memphis Police Department. The car was registered to Tri-State Word Ministries of West Memphis.  Simpson identified himself as a 49-year-old building inspector for the City of West Memphis as well as a nondenominational minister.  The sheriff's office there checked out Simpson's ID with Gitchell and sent L.G. and Simpson back to West Memphis. Ridge conducted another  interview on May 26 with Hollingsworth, who gave permission for blood and hair samples to be taken.  Said Ridge: “LG stated that he didn't know  anything about the murders and that on Wednesday he was with Richard Simpson at his house from 05:30 PM until about 9:30 PM. He stated that after that he went home just before his mother arrived home. He stated that he got on the phone with Domini and was talking with her about the problems that she and Damien were having and that is when his mother came in about 10:00 PM. … “I next interviewed Richard Simpson who stated that L.G. was not with him during that period of time until Thursday evening.”  L.G. seemed highly interested in Domini's troubled relationship with Damien; by her own account, she argued with Echols that evening as well as the next day.  Ridge first talked to Simpson on May 13, following interviews with L.G. on May 10 and 11.  While Simpson's statements did little to bolster the various stories from L.G.,  Simpson was inconsistent about L.G.'s activities on May 5, other than stating that L.G. had not been at his home that evening. Simpson gave permission to search his home and his yellow 1979 Ford LTD (which supposedly contained the “smelly box”). Police found nothing suspicious. He denied direct knowledge of the murders.  Simpson had met L.G. after the teen introduced himself at Blockbuster Video. He felt sorry for the boy.  “His family very hard on him.” Notes on the interview stated:  “… Believe that LG told of incident on Wednesday month to 6 weeks ago left & came back from someone very strong in satanic belief. Boy apparently hated L.G.” The somewhat  cryptic note made a clear reference to Echols.  Simpson took a polygraph test May 14 and said  he knew nothing about the killings.  He told police “L.G. thinks Damon may have done it.” No deception was indicated. Simpson talked to Ridge again on May 26, after another unsatisfactory interview with L.G. Ridge reported: “He advised me that he could not remember for sure but that he did not have L.G. Hollingsworth over at his house on 5-5-93. Wednesday evening, however he stated that L.G. called him at about 6:30 PM and requested that he come and get him. He stated that he thought that L.G. was at his home when he received the phone call. He again stated that he was not with L.G. at that time. “Richard stated that he was with L.G. on Thursday evening and that L.G. spent the night with him. He further stated that L.G. spent the weekend with him and that on Friday evening he and L.G. went to a restaurant on Poplar in Memphis. He stated that L.G. did drink some beer and a margarita at the restaurant and that he also drank a margarita while at the bar. … “Richard stated that he did remember L.G. borrowed a tie and shirt from him but that he couldn't remember when exactly he borrowed the tie. Richard stated that if L.G. stated that he borrowed the tie on that date, 050593 he wouldn't argue that but that he didn't think that this occurred on the Wednesday 050593.” Simpson took another polygraph examination.  Durham's note on the session said “Wed 5-5-93 said L.G. came over sometime after 5 pm to borrow a white shirt — he loaned L.G. a shirt & a tie and then gave L.G. a ride back home around 9 p.m. or 9:30 p.m. “Said L.G was at his house from 6:30 p.m. to 9:15 p.m. — Richard then gave L.G. a ride home. … “Says not sure of date.” This time Simpson failed the test.  Durham noted, however, that “Subject moved during test — yawned and appeared to be attempting counter-measures to distort the test.” Simpson told him he had taken pain pills because he had a kidney stone. He then changed his story and told police that L.G. had not been at his house May 5 but had come over that  Thursday and spent the weekend. Simpson did not clear up questions about L.G.    Ridge interviewed a Simpson house guest, architectural engineer Laszlo Benyo, on May 27. The statement from Benyo, a 45-year-old married architect from Budapest, did not clear up questions about L.G. Ridge reported: “When asked about the date of Wednesday 5-5-93. He stated that he was living with Richard Simpson during that time and that he is certain that he was at home during the evening. He knows L.G. and another young black/male who used to come over. He didn't remember L.G. coming over on that Wednesday. He stated that he heard of the murder on Thursday evening when he was discussing with Richard his traveling plans and Richard brought up the murder of the three boys. He remembered that on Friday morning Richard took him to the airport for a flight he made to New Orleans. He stated that some days ago Richard became upset about L.G. calling quite late at night. This occurred last week. He stated that Richard sometimes cooked for L.G. He stated again that on the night before the conversation came up about the boys that L.G. didn't come over. “On the night before the conversation. He stated that he once … answered the phone and it was L.G.'s mother.”  She asked him to tell L.G. to call her back. So Benyo seemingly remembered L.G.'s mother seeking him on May 5 and not finding him either at home or at Simpson's.   In a May 20, 1993, story in the West Memphis Evening Times,  contradicting his account of hearing about the murders from Simpson, Benyo said he had been out of town when he heard about the murders.  Benyo continues to work in his own firm as an architect in Budapest. Domini made no mention in any of her statements about talking to L.G. on the evening of May 5. She said she talked to Damien on May 5 starting around 10 p.m.  Why would Hollingsworth go to the trouble of going to the laundromat to get her phone number if he didn't call soon after?  He had seen her earlier that day and would see her several times the next day but he apparently was feeling an immediate need to call.  Why would he not act on the information?  While he gave contradictory versions of other events,  there was no contradicting evidence suggesting that he had not sought out Domini's number.  On Sept. 2, 1993, L.G. gave another statement, this time to John Fogleman.  L.G. had moved from 724 McCauley Circle and was living with Simpson. Asked about his job search on May 5 with Narlene,  he said: “Well,  we went, uh, she was supposed to come over to my house, and she never did, so I borrowed Richard's car, and I went over to her house …. OK, and I come over there too early, so I took her kids to school. … And then, I left there, no that was the day after, I'm sorry. She come over to the house, and got me, and we went over there. She took the kids to school. And then we went job hunting. …” He got a job at the Big Star West Broadway, near the high school. Then “we got tired and went to Sonic, and then we got tired, so we was going to go home. … And on the way, she took me to my house and there wasn't nobody there. … So, I told her to take me to my mom's work … So on the way there, she had a wreck, and we stayed there at the wreck and after we left the wreck, we went to her insurance company … And then I went over to her house. No, I didn't. I went to my mom's work and got the key, and then I went home. … Well, I stayed there until my mom got there.” He said Linda got home about 8:30 p.m., or “7:30 somewhere around there.” He said he had stayed at his aunt's until around 5 p.m. He had seen Damien that afternoon. “Well I went over to Domini's and he was there, and I seen him before I left. … It was about 3 hours before I left my aunt's. … Yeah, I'd say about 1:00.” He stayed “about 20 minutes.” He said Domini and Dian Teer and Echols were there, making no mention of Kenneth Watkins.  Dian told  Fogleman that L.G. had been at their trailer on May 5 and May 6.  Fogleman asked L.G.: “Did you see them again at any time?” L.G.: “Yes, I was, I said I was going to go ahead and walk home. So I was going over to my old aunt's to see if she was going to give me a ride.” This “old aunt” was Pam Hollingsworth, Dian's sister. L.G.: “And then I seen Damien right there at the corner, and …” Fogleman: “OK. Was he by himself?” L.G.: “Yes, uh well, I seen him before that, I was walking over to my aunt's, and him and Domini was out there arguing. … And Domini went her way, and he was standing on the other street … Like he didn't know what to do. … And then I left there and went to my aunt's to talk to her.” Fogleman: “About what time was that when you saw them arguing?” L.G.: “I'd say about 4:30. … Anyway then my aunt said that she couldn't give me a ride, so I walked outside, and I seen Damien standing at the corner, and I asked him where he fixing to go, and he said my mom's coming to get me, and this was at 5 minutes till 5:00. …” Fogleman: “Alright, are you sure that it was that day?” L.G.: “Yes. … Anyway, then my aunt took me home.” Fogleman: “OK, was Damien, when you saw him, was he out there standing by himself?” L.G.: “Yes.”  L.G.'s story about seeing Damien at Lakeshore contradicted accounts from the Echols and Teer families and seemed to explain part of what actually happened — Echols being at Lakeshore, instead of going home, for a meeting with Baldwin and Misskelley later that afternoon.  L.G. said he did not know the name of the street but it was on a corner near where Baldwin lived.. Fogleman continued: “OK, then what happened?” L.G.: “My aunt come around the corner and she said, well come on, and I said alright. So I got in the car and she took me home.”  L.G. said his mother and a female friend were home when he arrived, and they were “fixin to go to” the home of Mona Robertson. This contradicted some of his other stories. Fogleman inserted: “Let me stop here and ask you, how are you able to remember all of this so well? You just ….” L.G.” “Well everytime you say another word, it becomes clear.” Fogleman: “But I'm talking about that particular, how do you remember that this happened on that particular day?” L.G.: “You're talking about Wednesday. I know what happened.” Fogleman: “Well, I know but it was …” L.G.: “A long time ago.” Fogleman: “Yes, it was a long time ago. How do you remember that so well? Is there anything in particular about that day that makes it stand out?” L.G.: “No, it was just a day. See I've been done with this so many times.” Fogleman: “With the police.” L.G.: “Yeah.” L.G. told Fogleman he had not gone over the story with anyone except the police, and “an investigator.”  Fogleman asked: “Do you remember the guy with the beard, that dresses real fancy?” in reference to Ron Lax.  L.G.: “If he's an investigator, that's who I talked to.”  Fogleman asked L.G. what happened after his mother and her friend left. L.G.: “Well, I stayed there for a little while, then I called my buddy Richard. Richard Simpson. …Then I went over to his house …. We sat there for a while, and uh, I don't really remember. I think he was tripping out or something…. Then, uh, I went over to go to another friend's house. And, he wasn't home, so I stopped at my aunt's work. Anyway, I left Richard's and he dropped me off home. … I believe, I'm not for sure. I get the days mixed up, but I know what happened.” So much for L.G.'s incredible memory. Fogleman: “OK. Let's talk about, now before you said that you went to Dixie's place of work. That's a laundromat.” L.G.: “Yeah.” Fogleman: “Alright, which day are you saying that is.” L.G.: “Uh.” Fogleman: “Alright, before, you said it was that Wednesday. Now, how did you get there?” L.G.: “Richard. I had his car. Richard's car. … Richard was in the car on the other side, and I was driving.” Fogleman: “Now, L.G., this is where we're going to start getting into some problems. Um, Richard says, that he saw you that night and it was just  for a few minutes, and that he didn't go with you to any  laundromat.” L.G.: “Yeah, he did.” Fogleman: “And your aunt says that she knows Richard's car, and the car you came in wasn't Richard's.” L.G. “Yes it was.” Fogleman: “Why did your aunt say that it wasn't and Richard said that it wasn't?” L.G.: “I don't know. I have no idea.” Fogleman: “You're going to stick with that?” L.G.; “Yes sir.” Fogleman, bearing down: “Who was it, L.G.? L.G.: “It was Richard.” Fogleman was moving into some of the toughest questioning in the the case, though ultimately to not much effect: “Do you know why he wouldn't say that it was him?” L.G.: “I have no idea.” Fogleman: “Why would he have any motivation not to say yes, I was with him, I took him up there?” L.G.: “I guess you'll have to ask him, because all I know is that we was together, and he knew it and I knew it. And we're still friends, and he didn't say nothing about it.” Fogleman: “What about your aunt?” L.G.: “I couldn't tell you nothing about that. I don't know why she said that.” Fogleman: “You're digging a hole, L.G.” After a long pause, L.G. responded: “That's the truth, man.” He went on to deny seeing Damien, Jason or Jessie that evening. Fogleman: “And you're sure about that?” L.G.: “Yes sir, cause I left there and I went home.” Fogleman: “And what did you do there at the laundromat?” L.G.: “I walked in and asked for Domini's number.” Fogleman: “Why?” L.G.: “Because I forgot her number.” He explained that Dixie Hufford would have the number because they were all related.     Fogleman: “OK. What happened the next night? The next day?” L.G.: “My aunt came over to get me, no … my aunt came over and got me and took me to Big Star, and I went to work.”  He started about 9.  This roughly agreed with Narlene's account of taking L.G. to work the next day.  Fogleman continued to express skepticism about L.G.'s story, alluding to Hufford's account: “I've got her saying that you came in there, but weren't with Richard. You weren't in his car, it was a different car. And then I've got Richard saying, no, it wasn't me that he was with. Now what would you believe if you were me?” L.G.: “Well, I don't know, I have no idea. I don't know why somebody would say that.”  Domini told investigators that she and Damien “took out stress on each other” the day after the killings. Multiple statements concurred that the teen couple had a major argument over the phone late in the evening May 5. Were they arguing that Wednesday afternoon? It doesn't seem unlikely.   One of Damien's complaints about L.G. was that L.G. had suggested that they swap girlfriends, which presumably would have paired L.G. with Domini.  Despite being “cousins,” they were only loosely related. L.G. showed up at Domini's house regularly for months and continued to call her after the arrests. Dian Teer explained to Fogleman about L.G.'s visits: “… He used to come over fairly often because he was going out with Domini's best girlfriend, Liza McDaniels … and they would come over sometime and if they'd stayed out too late and if  her mother had locked the door on her, they'd come over to our trailer and spend the night.” Asked about L.G.'s visit on May 5, Dian answered: “I don't know exactly what time he left , but they was supposed to be going to see about a job. And uh, his Aunt Narlene and his Aunt Pam both live in the trailer park too and he went I believe with Narlene, to see about the job. … He went over to her house. … It was probably about 12, something like that.” She had no recollection of any calls that evening from anyone except Damien around 10 p.m.  Domini was also questioned about L.G. during Fogleman's interviews with the Teers on Sept. 20. She did not mention L.G. visiting her trailer either day. Fogleman: “You confide in the L.G. don't you?” Domini: “That's my cousin.” Fogleman: “You talk to L.G. don't you?” Domini: “Yeah. …” Fogleman pressed her: “OK. Are you sure there's not something you want to tell us?” Domini: “Uh uh. Nope. I've told you just about everything I know.” Fogleman concluded the interview with this cryptic remark: “Alright … Well, I'll just let you and L.G. work that out.” In a October 2016 phone interview, Domini Ferris lightly dismissed any significance to her friendship with L.G. “We grew up as cousins and he went out with my best friend. That's about it. Nothing more to it than that.” She said she did not talk with him the evening of May 5 and had no idea  why he was seeking her phone number that night.  According to Kenneth Watkins, who spent much of May 5 hanging around with Domini, Damien and Jason after he had skipped school, “We went to Wal-Mart to play some video games, and L.G. came to Wal-Mart then we went back inside Wal-Mart to get away from him.” This description of events on May 5, which agrees with no one else's account, would have occurred between 3:30, when Baldwin got out of school, and 5:30, when Kenneth went home to babysit.   According to Watkins, in a Sept. 16, 1993, statement: “L.G. came over earlier that morning to talk … He just talked to Domini, I didn't really know it, he was just talking to Domini about moving to Kentucky or something like that, with his girlfriend. ...”  He said L.G. gave Domini "a little necklace. A black one, with a little green ball." Bryn Ridge asked Watkins: “OK, and what happened at Wal-Mart?” Kenneth: “We started playing games, then L.G. came up. We went inside and looked around at some tapes …” Ridge: “Alright — you said L.G. came up and y'all went inside to look at some tapes. There a conflict between L.G. and somebody?” Kenneth: “I think Damien said he didn't like L.G. They're always talking about him.” Ridge: “So, when L.G. came up,  was it Damien's idea to go in and go somewhere else?” Kenneth: “Yeah, he didn't want to talk with him.” Watkins said he thought L.G. left during the time they were walking about Wal-Mart over a period of about 30 minutes. Watkins' account of events at Domini's trailer earlier on May 5 corroborated closely with other statements; his story  about the late afternoon was largely uncorroborated and contradicted most other witness statements.   The case records at callahan.8k.com contain a recorded phone call between L.G. and Domini on Feb. 10, 1994, made after a Commercial Appeal article raised questions about L.G.  During a preliminary hearing, it was revealed that Echols had named L.G. as a potential suspect.  The headline: “Inquiry, trials haunt L.G. Hollingsworth.” L.G. was concerned because Baldwin and Echols had tried to implicate him, according to the story.  L.G. complained: “My name's in the paper.” Domini: “Oh really, about what?”  L.G. “What's, what's that guy uh with Damien? Michael or somebody … Jason, that's the name …. Jason, Jason is trying to say I killed them kids.” Domini: “What?” L.G. asked: “Now you know I didn't do it, don't you?” Domini: “Little Jason?' LG.: “Mm-hmmmm.” Domini: “Don't worry about it.” L.G.: “Now you know I didn't do it, now don't you?” Domini: “I don't know. I ain't saying nothing. I don't know who did it. I don't have an idea what's going on or what.” She told L.G. to not worry.  Domini reassured him that she knew nothing about the allegations and that Damien had said nothing to her about L.G.'s alleged involvement.  Then, in March 1994, with the Echols/Baldwin trial under way,  a prisoner named Tim Cotton, who had been in jail with L.G. in February after L.G.'s arrests on burglary and forgery charges, passed a note to jailers tipping them off about a major break in the case, if it panned out. Timothy Robert Cotton, 26, was among those questioned in the first days of the investigation after drawing attention during the search.  Like many others, but unlike either Echols or Misskelley, he passed a polygraph examination and was cleared as a suspect.      Nonetheless police received a number of tips about Cotton early in the case. One said:        “Ref: Tim Cotton “5/24 “F/W called advise that M/W first name either Tim or Tom is possibly responsible for the murder of the three 8 year old youths in Arkansas. Called advised that m/w is into self mutilation and has broken bottles and cut himself in the presence of his sister.  His sister advised the called that her brother had killed animals before and that when she heard about the boys she suspect her brothers involvement. Suspect's sister name is Tamara and she works as a cocktail waitress at the Gulfstream lounge. Caller stated that the reason she believes he is involved is that he works at the Blue Beacon Car Wash (The three youths were found behind the Blue Beacon) Caller advised that Tim has been in an institution and like to play around with 5-8 year old boys.” Charlie Dabbs took another tip on May 27: “Received a call from Sally Brady and Gina Riccio about the nite the boys were missing Wednesday nite and they were out driving around trying to assist in locating the missing boy. They advised they saw Tim Cotten from Lakeshore riding a bicycle that was green and yellow go into Robin Hood Woods at dead end of McCauley and as they were driving around … about 45 minutes to 1 hour later they saw him again coming from the other end of Robin Hood and was wet & muddy all over and they heard him tell some of the Search & Rescue people he had fallen in the bayou was going home and change clothes. They said he was a weird acting guy and just wanted to check him out. he was seen going in woods around 10 p.m. and coming out around 11 p.m.”   Cotton on May 8 told investigators that he did not know anything about the homicides but had helped in the search.  He had just started working at the Blue Beacon  and lived in the same neighborhood as the victims, not at Lakeshore.     He said he first learned the boys were dead around 3 p.m. Thursday when he overheard Gitchell.  He passed a polygraph test on May 8. Cotton eventually passed along his own tip. His note from March 4, 1994, pointed to L.G. Hollingsworth as the “4th Suspect.” The note, as preserved on callahan.8k.com, is difficult to read: “L.G. Hollyingworth have told me, as Tim R. Cotton Sr., I state that L.G. had told me that was the 4th suspeck in the three 8 yr old killing on or on May of 93, He was getting cooke cane from Mr. Byers, & he, that is L.G. told me that a drug deal went bad & he & the three young men, to get even with Mr. Byers. By put a hit on his family & he told me, that he and Damien made a deal, just to get the Byers boy & hurt him real bad, and he went on for about a week. Telling me, Tim Cotten Sr. I wanted to no if he could trust me & I told him yes, & he said the two other boys was not part of the hit on the Byers family but they were all together that day. Oh yes there are two other people that helped the killers.”  Cotton offered to testify in exchange for getting out of jail.  Sudbury and Durham interviewed Cotton on March 8: “Timothy Cotton stated that around May the 5th or 6th he had left his house on Wilson Street and was going to job interview. Along the way he learned of the three boys missing. That someone in the rescue squad asked him to help look for the boys at which time he borrowed a 4 wheeler and helped look, but did not find anything. “On the 13th of Jan. 1994 he was locked up in the CCSO. That later in February L.G. Hollingsworth was locked up. That he and L.G. had received a subpoena to court in Jonesboro. …” Their link was that they both were potential (though minor) witnesses in the Echols/Baldwin trial in Jonesboro. The report continued:  “That they talking about the subpoenas and L.G. told him: That he and Damien went to cult meeting together and that he and Damien drank beer together at the meetings and killed animals at the meetings. That the meetings were at Lakeshore then moved to the old RR bridge like you are going to Memphis. That L.G. told him, at one of the meeting a older man was there and appeared to the leader. …  “That later that week something came on the news about a 4th suspect in the killing of the three boys. At this time L.G. stated to him that they were talking about him that he was the 4th suspect. L.G. said he had the knife that belonged to the boys meaning Damien and his friends. … “That L.G. has stated a contract was out on John Byers for a dope debt owed to him, but who ever was going to beat him up count get to Byers so L.G. decided to get Damien to beat up Byers son. That later Damien told L.G. that he had got him real good and two others boys that were there. … “That L.G. said Damien told him that after the killing he had someone pick him up and that person was driving a green and white van and that they lived in Lakeshore on the back side near the sewer plant.” The report repeatedly noted that Hollingsworth denied making these statements and denied that he knew Byers.    The report added: “It is the opinion of this investigator that Timothy Cotton is under the impression he will receive some type help or his case be dismissed if he can be a witness for the Prosecutors Office. There is nothing to substantiate the statement given by Mr. Cotton.” Police brought L.G. in yet again on March 8 while the Echols/Baldwin trial was under way.    Sudbury noted, at 11:25 a.m.: “The  interview consisted of allegations made by Timothy Cotton whereas L.G. Hollingsworth had told him of his knowledge of the killing of the three  boys. “Mr. Hollingsworth denied having made any statements to Timothy Cotton. “ It seems unlikely  that L.G. never said anything to Cotton while they were locked up in a cell together for days.  Police, reluctant to believe anything from L.G. to that point, took his all-coverage denial at face value.  Police then tape-recorded a portion of the interview, starting at 12:02 p.m. and ending nine minutes later, at 12:11. The  interview did not delve into Cotton's allegations. Instead, L.G. told about a conversation he had with Echols about two months, “maybe not that long,” before the murders. L.G.: “We was coming back from my house, I believe. We was walking, I do know that.…. We was going to Belvedere …. To meet up with my girlfriend and his girlfriend. … OK. Damien asked me could I kill somebody and I says, ‘I don't think I could kill them unless they did something really bad to me.' I said, ‘I'd probably hurt them bad first.' And then I says, ‘Why you ask?' He says, ‘Cause I'm thinking of killing somebody.'  I says, ‘Why you thinking about killing somebody?' He says, ‘They're fucking with me.' That's what he told me. I says, ‘If there's some man, then you just go and you break his ass or you get your ass whooped. If it's some little teenager, you tell his parents or you call the police.' I say, ‘You don't need to do that, because that's not cool, you know. You'll go to jail for that.' And we keep walking and stuff and he says, ‘Just say that you would kill somebody.' I says, ‘OK, say I would kill somebody.' He says, ‘How would you do it?' I says, ‘Well it depends.' He says, ‘What do you mean it depends?' I said, ‘It depends on what they did to me to make me kill them.' I says, ‘I'd probably put a bullet in their head, and if not I'd probably break both of their arms and make them wish they was dead.' And um I says, ‘Well, What's up?' or you know, ‘Would you kill somebody?' And he says, ‘Yeah.' He says, ‘I'm thinking of killing somebody' is what he told me. I said, ‘OK,' I says, ‘you don't need to do that. That's gonna fuck your life up.' I says, ‘it will mess you up altogether.' He says, ‘Well' like that, and we left it at that and we kept walking for a little ways more. And he says, ‘If I was gonna kill somebody I would tie ‘em up, beat ‘em and fuck ‘em. That way they would know that I'm not fucking with nobody. You know, I'm a straight up kind of guy. … “And alright so I said, ‘Well look, you don't need to do that, you know.' Alright. So we walked on. Alright. And then May the 6th, I think it was May the 6th, when I did talk to Damien he was just kind of like sitting there. He was kind of nervous. …. At Domini's house in Lakeshore.” L.G. said he remembered the date because he had been riding with Narlene when she was in a car accident the day before. “That day we sat and I talked to him for a minute and then I left. And I came over there like three times and they were still whatever they was doing, you know, sitting and talking. So I didn't say too much and I left again. Anyway, he was on the corner, sitting on the corner and my cousin had run away. “  L.G. said Domini ran away from Damien during an argument.  Sudbury: “This is on the 6th?” L.G. had described a similar scene on the 5th. L.G. “This is on the 6th.  … I said, ‘Are you still thinking of killing somebody,' like that. He says, ‘No I ain't. It's kind of tooken care of. Don't worry about it, you know it's OK.' He said you know kind of fast, you know, I didn't catch it at first. I thought about what he said and then that's when I realized that's what he said, you know. He said it's tooken care of.” L..G  believed he knew that three 8-year-olds were missing at that time, but not that they were dead.  “I don't watch a lot of the news,” L.G. explained. “My aunt told me either on the 6th or the 5th there was kids missing. You know I didn't even know where they was missing from.” L.G. had not mentioned these conversations in his many other interviews with police. Police also found little corroboration from others questioned about L.G.'s activities on May 5 and 6. Rumors have continued concerning the deaths of the boys as payback for a drug deal gone wrong.  Mark Byers was a longtime smalltime drug dealer as well as a police informant.  Greg Day's authorized biography of Byers, “Untying the Knot,” detailed a number of Byers drug deals gone wrong, violent threats and retribution and Byers' knack for bad decisions.      Also, the Crittenden County Drug Task Force was under investigation in 1993 by the Arkansas State Police over missing confiscated items including $200,  a small amount of drugs and firearms claimed by officers for personal use.  The Drug Task Force had been spectacularly successful in a number of drug busts, as local forces cracked down on drug traffic moving through Interstate 55 and Interstate 40. Critics have seized upon involvement of Drug Task Force members in the murder investigation to suggest that police work was tainted, particularly in dealings with Byers.   Still, there was no evidence beyond Cotton's statement that the killers or L.G. had dealings with Byers. Given the looming size of Byers, it's hard to imagine a couple of relatively small teenagers planning to beat him up, which would explain why they might target his son.   The mysterious “leader” of the Lakeshore witch cult was described as an older man.  Other statements have located “Lucifer,” “Lusserfer” or “Lucifier,” with widely varying descriptions, as living on a back lot in Lakeshore or somewhere in Marion.  Did this fabled creature actually exist, and did he drive a green and white van?  Cotton did not testify. Police apparently did not give his statement a great deal of credence. Similarly, police treated all statements from L.G. with justifiable skepticism, except for denials about Cotton's story.  The many contradictions in L.G.'s stories ultimately only confused matters as L.G. never emerged as a clear suspect.     In a case filled with unreliable potential witnesses, L.G. Hollingsworth was just another kid who seemed to be making up much of the story as he went along. L.G. Hollingsworth Jr. was killed in a vehicle accident on Oct. 26, 2001. Questions about the “fourth suspect” remain.  

In this second part of a two-part episode Tony Barthel and Jim Cherry talk about the various cars that have made the cut in their driveways. From an odd semi-concept car to a race car that met its demise at the hands of a parked Ford LTD, this fun look at the vehicles of our past provides a glimpse into why we are who we are. Oh, and don't forget about the Cadillac that served as a stage at more than one Jimmy Buffett concert tailgating party. Plus we welcome to the microphone the ridiculous Dr. Headgasket and his cocamame advice.

In this two-part episode Tony Barthel and Jim Cherry talk about the various cars that have made the cut in their driveways. From an odd semi-concept car to a race car that met its demise at the hands of a parked Ford LTD, this fun look at the vehicles of our past provides a glimpse into why we are who we are. Oh, and don't forget about the Cadillac that served as a stage at more than one Jimmy Buffett concert tailgating party. Plus we welcome to the microphone the ridiculous Dr. Headgasket and his cocamame advice.

“I was born and raised in White Bear Lake, Minnesota. When I was growing up as a troubled youth about 11 years old I was sent away to a group home (that’s what they did in the 70’s when I was a kid. if you were deemed a ‘problem child’ or were in trouble with the law, or you were a runaway (that was me) your parents signed ‘incorrigible’ papers on you and let the County juvenile authorities place you where they decide, which may be in a home with someone who would take care of you for a period of time instead of a jail cell. They called it a ‘group home’ or foster care. So, I come from a large catholic family of 12 other siblings (I was #6) and because I kept running away from being sexually abused by my older brother. He threatened me to never tell and I didn’t,(I never told anyone about the abuse, I just kept acting out in other ways, like running away, staying out late, and skipping school etc.) my parents too busy to figure out what was up with me, turned me over to Ramsey Counties Juvenile justice system and they placed me in a ‘Group Home’ which was a man who owned a farm in northern Minnesota who would care for and hopefully turn troubled teens around before they got into real legal problems with the law and ended up in prison. This man took in 4 teens at a time and basically used us as free labor to run his farm. He had about 80 milking cows, some pigs, sheep, a couple hundred steers, etc. you know the deal.On the outside, and to everyone else, like the county authorities, our parents, this guy looked like he was offering a service to help boys, what he REALLY was, was a 60 yr old ex military CO, child abuser who beat and tortured kids for fun. (can you frikkin believe that shit!?) and for whatever reason, he had a bad attitude about me and he physically beat me, tortured me and emotionally tormented me for 10 months. He did not beat any of they other boys, just ME. His name was Don, and he had a farm on if I remember correctly ‘Choke cherry road’. Its approx. 8 ½ miles west of Willow River, Minnesota, I believe in Finlayson township. Now this Don character was a real piece of work, He was so physically abusive to me, I actually thought I was going to die by his hands before my time was up there. I was to be there for 1 year. I lasted 10 months before the county got some report from a local constable and they pulled me from there and shut his place down. (that is another long story that I won’t go into) He did everything from poking me with pitchforks while he had me tied to a post, to whipping me with milking straps til I bled from the brass grommets. He would make me stand naked in the field from dawn til dusk and sunburn the shit out of me, and then in the frigid winter, he made me stand out in the driveway naked til I was frostbit. I have plenty of scars and afflictions to prove what I’m saying. He would keep me out of school until my obvious bruises and cuts were healed, and then I was allowed to return to school. (I missed A LOT OF SCHOOL THAT YEAR) He beat me and He beat his cows and horses , sheep and pigs the same way, so at 12 yrs old I felt like another of his animals. OK, so I bet your wondering, “what the hell does all this have to do with bigfoot or you? and Why am I telling you my childhood abuse stories? well this is why. His farm was located down this gravel road, about 8 miles from the highway. One other farm about ½ mile down the road, otherwise no other homes, farms, nothing for 10 miles in any direction. After many beatings, I started running away, and when I started to run away from him, he would always catch me because I didn’t know where I was, or how to get away, so I always just ran down the road until he would find I was missing and he would come after me with his old 67 Ford LTD that smelled like a cow pie inside. I would hear his car coming down the gravel road after me and I would go off road into the ditch, and hide. But he always found me and the beatings would begin again. I would have ran off the road and into the woods but I was afraid of the swamp that was on both sides of the road between the road and the woods. I would guess there was about 100 yds of swamp, then thick woods. When I did try to go off the road I would get cold and wet, and didn’t know why but I was so afraid of the swamp, I had heard howls and strange noises that I can’t explain whenever I was walking on the road and I was always afraid. but I shrugged the noises off to the local wildlife. On one of my ‘escapes’ I ran away and the only way ‘out’ was 8 miles down the dirt road that was the only way in or out of his farm. I would run for miles and then I would hear his car coming from a long way away but with nothing but swamps on both sides of the road I didn’t know where to go and every time he would catch me he would Tie my hands together and tie the other end of the 20 foot rope to his bumper and he would make me run behind the car as he headed back to the farm. He did this several times, and every time I would get tired and couldn’t run fast enough to keep up with the car and I would always fall sooner or later and he would not stop, he would just drag me the rest of the way back to the farm. I have many scars to this day to prove what I’m explaining to you. Again Wes, I know your thinking “what the hell does this have to do with Bigfoot??” well it will all be understood soon: One time (the last time) I ran away and ran down the road, (BTW, NO other farms or houses on this stretch of road. very desolate, open pastures and wooded forests and a strip of swamp on both sides of the long 8 mile gravel road. I don’t know, but I believe now that this Sasquatch had watched what was happening to me, maybe only once, maybe it saw every time I was abused on that road. (I’m sure that he drug me behind the car at least 8 times over that summer) I somehow feel it (the bigfoot) understood my plight, or if it just noticed I was in trouble, or if it saw me running before and saw Don (the asshole abuser) stop and grab me smack me around and then tie me to the car and take me on another drag. Maybe it was watching the farm all summer, as my abuse was a daily thing around the farm, easy to see happening if you were watching the farm. I Don’t know. it was in approximately the same location on the same dirt road that I heard noises before in one of my escapes that this guy don would come and find me at. So it goes like this; I was running down the side of the road, I hear Don’s car coming off in the distance, so I jump off the road and down into the swamp along the road and I start heading across this swampy area, hoping to cross it to the tree line and into the forest that is beyond the swamp. It’s getting deeper and muckier every step I take and I am panicking and struggling to get through the swamp before don’s car gets to where I was. My feet are sinking, I’m struggling every step and I’m quickly realizing that it’s too deep and I am not going to be able to cross this swamp to the tree line beyond it. Don’s car comes, I duck, Don’s car goes by, but he doesn’t notice me about 75 yds out in this swampy area. So I have avoided him for the moment but I know he will turn around and come back, as always. but now I’m stuck in the swamp and struggling to keep my head afloat and to get out. (sorry, I’m not good with distances, don’t know 50 yards from 50 feet but I think my numbers are close approximations) I’m panicking, I’m sinking, my feet are stuck in the muck up to my waist, and the water above the muck to my chest. The more I struggle, the more I sink into the swamp muck! I’m pulling at cattails and reeds, I’m screaming and crying and wishing Don had seen me, cuz a beating is better then a drowning! All of a sudden, from the tree line, I hear this big CRASH/SPLASH about 50 feet away from me on the edge of the woods/swamp. I look up expecting to see a bear or something because it sounded like a herd of buffalo was coming out of the tree line. What do I see? It’s a MONSTER!! 8 feet tall, and massive! it’s a HUGE BIGFOOT! (back then I thought it was a MONSTER, but now I know it was a bigfoot, so I’ll just call it that) I notice right away it’s a female because of the large hairy breasts. Weird how a 12 year old in puberty will notice tits, even on a bigfoot (LOL) anyways, tits or not it’s a monster and I am screaming and struggling in this swamp and I think I’m going to drown, I stop struggling in the direction going away from the road and start struggling back towards the road but can’t get my feet loose of the muck. I was finally able to pull my feet out of my shoes and get a few more steps, as this at least 8 feet tall brown hairy monster is coming straight towards me. I am dizzy from struggling and screaming and panicking and I have swamp water in my mouth and I’m coughing, and this Bigfoot is almost on top of me now, it never made a noise, no growling, roaring, nothing, and seemed to glide effortlessly through the swamp to me. The water seemed to only come to it’s knees and as it got to within about 10 feet of me I thought for sure it was going to just beat me or kill me and eat me or something bad. it did not. I cowered down with my hands and arms over my head as I saw the shadow of this beast surround me and then I notice this terrible stench! Like a thousand skunks and rotten meat at the same time. Worst thing I have ever smelled, ever! Then everything got silent. She/it was over the top of me and I was face down in the swamp with my hands over my head and my eyes closed tightly crying. Next I hear this beast sigh, like it changed its mind and gave up scaring me or something, hard to explain the emotion, but we both just froze for what seemed like an hour but was in reality about 10 seconds. It was like this beast woman was trying to figure out what to do with me. It had the look of intelligence, not a wild animal. I feel this wet cold mucky hairy hand grab the back of my jacket and my neck and pull me up out of the swamp. I start flaying my feet and twisting around to get loose but it had me tight and effortlessly held me out in front of it. I started screaming and crying as it held me out in front of her and started moving swiftly towards the road. It seemed to take about 10 seconds and we were back at the edge of the ditch next to the road. It took me 10 minutes to get out there struggling all the way, but it moved smoothly and quickly back the way I came into the swamp from the gravel road in a matter of seconds. From where she picked me up to the gravel road was about 75 feet. She dropped me in the ditch, and just looked at me for what seemed like an hour but was a few seconds, the look was of sadness, of confusion, but firm too. It looked up the road towards the sound of Don’s car coming back about a ½ mile away and turned looked at me again and walked away quickly straight back the way we came from following the same path through the swamp. It was into the tree line and gone in about 20 seconds. What I remember the most is the look on her face when she dropped me. she stood and looked at me for a couple seconds, she looked up the road where we both heard don’s car coming in the far distance, (you know the sound a car makes on gravel when there is no other noise? You can hear it break the silence from a mile away) as I said, She looks back to me and I saw this look, one of understanding, of motherly caring almost, and of concern and of ANGER all at the same time. Then she turned and moved swiftly back through the swamp to the woods on the other side of the swamp and disappeared. What I can tell you about the face is that it reminded me of a carnival ‘bearded lady’. I know how that sounds, but she did not look like a woman, she had long wet, dark brown hair, not fur draped in her face, a long dirty beard that seemed to start at her eyes and flow all the way off the chin. And the hair was full of pine needles and twigs and clumps of mud. Oh, and the skin, was dark gray, and her hands huge with brownish long nails that looked like an eagles claw, but dirty and chipped. Huge eyes, dark deep set and angry looking, but not angry at me. And the nose was wide and flat like a boxer or something, but not human. If I had to pick a bigfoot type that she most resembled it would be a cross between ‘Patty’ but with long messy dirty hair. Maybe Like the Florida swamp creature you have seen on the internet. I never told Don about the Bigfoot, he pulled up and saw me lying in a puddle in the ditch “your all fu**ing’ wet! Where are your fu**ing shoes? And you STINK! You’re not sitting in MY car stinkin’ like that! Get in the fu**ing trunk” He snarled, as he got out of his car and opened the trunk and pointed towards it. I was cold and wet and stinkin like a skunk and probably in shock, I was still sobbing. So I climbed in the trunk and he slammed the lid down and drove me back to the farm as he had done many times before. I was just happy he didn’t drag me this time. He made me throw the jacket away, we couldn’t get the smell out of it, and he blew it off that I somehow got tangled with a skunk. A dead skunk. I never told anyone about the Bigfoot, who would believe me? I also believe that there was a bigfoot near me while I was picking raspberries out in Don’s back forty a couple months earlier. I was in the woods. I heard a grunt in the bushes near the wild berry patch we always went to and I had a sudden fear come over me and I ran back to the house about a mile through the woods down the tractor trail. There seemed to be something moving through the woods on the side of me, but I could never see it, I was just scared shitless of something, and I ran. I Never heard the grunting sound again until I was walking on the road near the swamp months later. Until I started listening to your show, I figured I would take it to my grave. But you Wes, with your friendly voice and the way you make it sound ok and believable that someone saw a bigfoot and that the story should be told that I decided to at least put my encounter to paper.”

Today we're talking about the things you put on your feet.  They protect your toes, and look darned good!   We started with the all-mighty platform.  which took off in the late 60's, but actually originated in ancient Greece.  We then school our listeners about penny loafers, docksiders and saddle shoes. Jason Triviolla from Copiague, NY wrote in to fadtabulous@rogueintel.com.  He said: "Hey guys, I actually grew up next to the Johnny All-Weather drive-in, and it was a BLAST!  It was a weekend tradition in my family to go see a movie in the family Ford LTD.  It was such a shame they closed down in the 80’s. Love the show, especially Carrie."  Next week - We’re taking the fat out of our show. Check us out at fadtabulous.com for the latest show updates.

Love... The International Language! Love abounds on Reels and Wheels Podcast's  new episode as we discuss the classic 1985 romantic comedy, Better Off Dead! Sid and James are joined by Alicia Camden, co-host of the Invitation to Love Podcast to get some insight into relationships... and give her some insight into classic cars. Better Off Dead seems on the surface like a fun, outlandish comedy, but the truth is that a lot of its content is based on the real life of the director, Savage Steve Holland. It also features a sad, sad Ford LTD station wagon, two race-happy Asian immigrants in a Falcon sedan, and the infamous Camaro - a car whose post-movie story is quite interesting! Learn about love and automobiles on Reels and Wheels! Find Alicia Camden online - @aliciacamden and find the Invitation to Love Podcast at http://invitationtolove.podbean.com/ (or subscribe on iTunes!). As always, find James (@S2KJames) and Sid (@SidBridgeComedy) and @ReelsandWheels! Subscribe on iTunes or Stitcher and leave feedback!