Just The Tip-sters

On the morning of December 1, 1994, Melissa Witt (her friends and family called her “Missy”) had a small tiff with her mom over money.  The 19 year-old college student, who was studying to become a dental hygienist at a local college, was out of cash, and she wouldn’t get paid at her part-time job until the next day.  When she asked her mom for a loan, mom – in a lesson to her daughter about money management – told her no.  And young Missy was not happy.  She left to start her day in a huff.  When Missy got home later in the day, she found a conciliatory note from her mom – with an invitation to meet at a local bowling alley later in the evening – where mom would buy dinner.  And Melissa Witt drove to the bowling alley.  But she never made it out of the parking lot.  From there the details get skimpy.  All we know for certain is that Melissa Witt’s keys were found in the parking lot, as were two pools of blood in two parking spaces, with a blood trail leading from one parking space to the other.  And that he

December 7, 1991 was the 50th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor – but while America was busy commemorating that momentous date in history, another day that should live in infamy was unfolding in the woods of the town of Sorrento in Lake County, Florida.  It was there that a hiker discovered the brutally beaten body of a woman who has become known as the “Sorrento Jane Doe,” who had been tortured, raped, beaten and strangled to death.  Many – many – lucky breaks eventually helped law enforcement find and convict the serial rapist responsible for the crime – including a DNA hit at a time when DNA technology was at its infancy and there were only 10,000 DNA samples in Florida’s criminal DNA database.  By an incredible stroke of luck, Joseph Rolle’s DNA was in that database, and he was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.  Strangely, that life sentence was not for the murder of Sorrento Jane Doe.  Rather, Rolle was convicted solely on the charge of sexual battery.  He has denied

November 29, 1992 was the very last day of Hunting Season in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where 35 year-old Judy Moilanen, her husband Bruce and young daughter Elise were visiting Judy’s parents in the small town of Ontonagon, right on the banks of Lake Superior.  Seeing it was the last day of the season to do so, Bruce, along with a larger hunting party, headed out looking for deer to hunt. Judy decided to walk the five dogs currently in the house – her four Springer spaniels and her parents’ one.  Once the hunting party reassembled and got back to the house, Judy was nowhere to be found. When Judy’s parents’ dog returned without Judy and her four dogs, concern grew.  As the afternoon grew late, the friends broke into small groups to go look for Judy – and her mother, Mary Ann, and a friend soon discovered the four missing dogs at the edge of the woods – and quickly thereafter, Judy’s body, shot once in what appeared to be a hunting accident. A bullet had passed right through her somewhere into the surroundin

One unseasonably cool (as opposed to freezing) late winter morning on March 10, 1997, at a small  travel stop gas station and convenience store right off Interstate 80 in Cozad, a tiny farming community in the heart of Nebraska, a late model Pontiac Grand Am pulled into the parking lot and up to the pumps.  Inside the store, 41 year-old Leah Rowlands was behind the counter on her very first day in her new role as manager – her hard work and happy attitude had earned her that position after just a few months.  The divorced mother of two was finally getting her life back in order after a tough breakup with a new town, a new boyfriend and a future that appeared nothing but bright.  Back at the gas pumps, a large man wearing a hoodie under a leather jacket, sweat pants rolled up to his knees and wearing no shoes got out of the Pontiac, filled the tank and headed into the store.  Once inside he grabbed a canned soft drink out of the cooler, opened it and started drinking from it while he waited for a mother and he

On February 24, 1986, John Ruetten came home from work to the condominium in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles that he shared with his bride of three months, Sherri Rasmussen.  What he found inside the condo changed his life forever – and it also changed a lot of people’s perception of the Los Angeles Police Department.  On the living room floor, still wearing the robe and underwear she had worn to bed the previous night, was the body of Sherri – her face beaten beyond all recognition, and the three bullets that finally ended her life.  Little did John know then that it would take 23 years and a determined, unafraid LAPD detective to both solve the murder and expose a rotten corner of the department’s inner culture.  It turns out that for several years Sherri Rasmussen had been stalked and terrorized by one of LAPD’s young superstars – then still a uniformed officer named Stephanie Lazarus.  Lazarus had been friends with Ruetten when they first met in college and the two had been occasional sexual partne

When 18 year-old Christina Carnes and her 20 year-old Vernon Cade went out on January 20, 1994 for a night of fun with friends, neither of them could possibly have known what would befall them just a few hours later.  Arriving at a gathering in their hometown of Fairfield Ohio that night, they were paged by a friend who needed a ride, and left the party early so they could respond.  Later that night, a call to authorities reported an apparently overheated car parked in a parking lot in front of what was then a children’s day care center on Mack Road in Fairfield.  When police arrived, they found a horror scene.  It was Christina Carnes’ car – and Christina was slumped on the driver’s side of the front seat - dead, shot in the back of the head by someone who had been in the back seat.  Vernon had been shot in the face – still alive.  Vernon was rushed to the hospital and eventually saved.  He is still alive today, but with permanent brain injuries that to this day prevent him from remembering anything that hap

If you look up the March 3, 2014 death of 50 year-old interior designer Dana Jones in the official records of the Long Beach, California Police Department, you’ll see that the case is considered closed, and Jones’ death listed as accidental – a contention backed up by the coroner.  According to Dana Jones’ husband, Cain Finn “Huck” Jones, he took the dog out for a walk on the morning of March 3, and when he returned from the walk he discovered Dana, crumpled on the floor from an injury to the back of the head after slipping during a headstand while practicing yoga.  Dana was rushed to the hospital in a coma but never regained consciousness before passing away.  The problem is, Huck’s story seemed a bit out of whack to Dana’s friends and family – particularly Dana’s sister, Lisa – who has remained Dana’s champion and advocate for justice ever since.  For one thing, Dana was an experienced yoga practitioner who knew what she was doing.  And even a miscue during a headstand should never have caused the severity

This week we take another small diversion from murder and mayhem and enter the lighter side of the world of law enforcement with retired New York City detective Vic Ferrari – who makes his second visit to “JTT” – this time to talk about his new book, NYPD: Law and Disorder – Ferrari’s latest batch of true, hilarious stories from his days on the Force.  Listen in as Vic regales Melissa with some of the more colorful misadventures as a New York cop – including rookie mistakes, hijinks involving his colleagues at the station house and what challenges he’s faced with in turning his experiences into the written word.  

On January 15, 1988 in a semi-residential pocket in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley, 25 year-old Catherine Braley – just recently relocated to Southern California from Iowa – was walking home from her job at a local specialty retail outlet when she decided to drop in to a local bar called The Hunter.  There she encountered three L.A. County Sheriff’s detectives – off-duty and out of their jurisdiction (this was LAPD territory) after attending a memorial service for a fallen colleague nearby.  After several hours of what all witnesses agreed was heavy drinking, Catherine and the three detectives departed the bar at around 11 pm.  Employees at the bar who peered through the windows at the foursome saw Catherine sitting in puddle in the parking lot, laughing.  Soon thereafter, the witnesses saw two of the detectives leave, leaving Catherine alone with one man – Detective Robert Mallen of the LA County Sheriff’s Department.  That was the last time anyone saw Catherine Braley alive.  Her battered body was found t

By all accounts Cyle VanKomen was more than just a good kid.  He was the kind of young man that drew others to him.  Kind, friendly and generous to a fault, the 24 year-old lived with his older brother and several other young men in what was known as a “party house” in a quiet neighborhood in South Ogden Utah.  Neither Cyle, his brother nor anyone else in the house had any known enemies or connection to any criminal activity.  He and his roommates lived simply – none of them were wealthy or had much in the way of valuable belonging – least of all Cyle.  So it defies belief that on the night of December 9, 2016 – when Cyle’s brother and another roommate left the house to buy some snacks to take with them to go bowling – that one of the most bizarre home invasions ever committed took place – leaving Cyle and his neighbor Kevin Nelson dead and a third remaining victim critically wounded.  And it all happened in the span of ten minutes – the time it took for Cyle’s brother and his friend to walk to the store and

Ten years is a long time no matter how you look at it.  But for the Stephenson family of Northern Kentucky, ten years is just simply too long.  Because that’s how long it’s been since their family patriarch and matriarch Bill and Peggy Stephenson were murdered – brutally – in their Florence Kentucky townhome on Memorial Day weekend in 2011.  And the devoted minister and his wife – both beloved members of the community known for their kindness and generosity – were killed in a most unusual – evil way.  The killer (or killers) murdered the Stephensons late at night – and took their time.  They not only completely re-arranged the murder scene – they staged the bodies in different rooms of the condo – and staged the rest of the home as well, leaving seeming clues everywhere that to this day no one has deciphered.  Melissa covered this devastating unsolved double murder in Episode 147 of Just The Tip-Sters, when she interviewed lead case detective Coy Cox of the Boone County Kentucky Sheriff’s Department.  Det. C

For the second time this month we feature the troubling, tragic, SAD murder of a young girl during the Christmas holiday season a long time ago.  This one is incredibly tragic because it’s pretty clear who the killer is and he was never arrested.  On December 26, 1980 six year-old Avery "Peaches" Shorts left her home in Knoxville, Tennessee with 58 cents in her pocket, bundled up by her mother Hazel, who asked her youngest daughter to walk to the local store to buy her a bottle of Coke.  It was a fifteen-minute round trip.  Little Peaches never returned.  When 50 minutes had passed with no sign of her daughter, Hazel called the police – and immediately – before the night was through – dozens of law enforcement personnel were searching for Peaches.  And in the coming months the number of police and private citizens searching for her grew into the hundreds.  No success.  It wasn’t until 13 months later, in January 1982, that the body of Peaches Shorts was found – by hunters on an old farm buried under a cattle

Ten year-old Judith Barsi was a bona fide, in-demand child actor in the 1980s.  Between her fifth and tenth birthdays she appeared in 72 commercials and dozens of television movies and series.  And her acting abilities and professional demeanor, even at such a young age, made it clear to everyone who worked with her that young Judith was destined for even greater things as she grew up.  Sadly, Judith’s life ended not even one month past her tenth birthday.  And the circumstances were nothing short of tragic.  The only child of Maria and Joseph – immigrant parents who came to the United States from Hungary – Judith’s talents were noticed by Maria early on.  Joseph, who worked as a plumbing contractor, never encouraged Judith’s career the way Maria did, even though by 1988 it had been Judith’s income that had enabled the family to purchase – for cash – a lovely home in the San Fernando Valley suburbs of Los Angeles.  And by that time Joseph’s non-support had turned dark.  He was now drinking heavily, and had be

The holiday season was in full bloom in the small North Carolina town of Benson on Thursday December 14, 1972 when 33 year old Bonnie Neighbors was planning to pick up her oldest son Ken from school, taking her three-month old baby boy Glenn along with her.  A witness even saw Bonnie’s car leave her driveway that afternoon – although, strangely, she seemed to be driving erratically and at a high rate of speed – and in the opposite direction of Ken’s school.  When Bonnie’s husband (Ken, Senior) got a call from young Ken’s school telling him that no one had come to pick up the young Ken, and when it was later discovered that both Bonnie and baby Glen were missing – and that Bonnie had obviously packed diapers and baby formula – and that her favorite green pantsuit was missing from the closet – an intense search began that got the entire community involved. v First found was Bonnie’s station wagon – parked near her home – virtually untouched.  Then, three days after she and the baby disappeared, Bonnie’s body wa

This week Melissa brings forth another unnerving “unsolved” murder – this one from May of 1997 - that really isn’t unsolved at all; a case where the search for justice has been unrelenting for nearly a quarter of a century.  And despite the fact that the culprit is alive and in plain sight of God and everybody – no arrests have ever been made.   The victim – then 44 year-old Monika Luise Rizzo (nee McKinney) – had by all accounts grown up happy, well-adjusted and well-taken care of by her adoptive parents, dad Bill McKinney and mom (also named) Monika McKinney.  Because Bill was a career US Army officer, the family moved around a lot when Monika was young.  But no matter where she lived, Monika Luise was always known to be enterprising, hard-working and honest to a fault.  And Monika Luise maintained those traits for the remainder of her life, even though that life was never easy after she met Leonard “Lenny” Rizzo on a Honolulu beach in 1970 when she was just 17 and a senior in high school.  A beach bum, mot

Penelope Edwards had all but put her life back together in March 2012.  After years of struggling with addiction and psychological problems – so bad that she had turned temporary custody of her two children over to her sister Gloria – Penelope was now sober, working  through therapy, had her children back and even had a new boyfriend – Troy Dunn.  By all accounts, Penelope, Troy and the two kids were living a happy life in Prescott Valley Arizona.  But on March 16, 2012, evil visited that happy home – when Kenneth Thompson, the husband of Penelope’s sister Gloria – after driving 25 miles from his home in Missouri, took a hatchet to both Penelope and Troy in an attempt to “rescue” Penelope’s children from what Thompson believed to be a dangerous environment.  Dangerous how?  Well. It seems that Penelope not only had herself in therapy – her daughter was also seeing a therapist  and her young son, who had been suffering with a severe psychological disorder, was under both therapeutic and medical treatment.  And

This time around we have what a 1980s television marketing whiz would call a “Very Special Episode” of the podcast.  And that’s because what is normally the intro is actually half the show – and there’s an important reason why. It’s because Melissa has had some things she’s been wanting to say for a while about kindness – being nice – and those things came to the fore this past week in the form of vaccine side effects and a particularly icky email she received from a clearly unhappy person.  So in addition to the usual than-yous (and a dynamite discussion on one of America’s longest-operating travel-stop businesses), during the first half of this episode Melissa holds forth on an important fact of life – that kindness is the fuel of any well-lived life.  And how much the kindness of you Tip-Sters means to her and Producer Mark.            The second half – this week’s case – is about the tragedy of three friends – two of whom were murdered only because they happened to be friends with the third.  Gail Moody a

Matthew Chase was just like a lot of young artists who move to Los Angeles to seek out their creative development and success.  Back in 1988, then 22 year-old Matthew and his friends, brother-and-sister Steve and Teresa Dahl, were living together after all moving from their childhood homes near Medford Oregon.  And – again, like so many other young transplants to Southern California, Matthew, Steve and Teresa moved into one of the grittier parts of Los Angeles, in the heart of the big city, not fully aware of just how “gritty” gritty really meant.  As in:  At the time, Los Angeles was plagued by one of the worst gang wars ever to hit an American city.  And the area where Matthew Chase and his companions lived was one of that gang war’s hot spots.  It was nowhere to be out after dark.  And yet, as often happens, Matthew and the Dahl siblings’ youthful sense of invincibility left them largely unaware of the risks all around them.  So it was unsurprising that on June 8, 1988, at 11:45 pm, Matthew decided to depo

January 2, 1999 was an average day in sleepy suburban Mesa Arizona when, as dusk was falling, 11 year-old Mikelle Biggs and her sister Kimber thought they heard the sound of an ice cream truck coming up the street as they were playing outside their house.  Mikelle ran into the house and convinced her mother – who was just starting dinner, to give her some quarters so she and Kimber could buy a treat.  Racing back outside, Mikelle borrowed Kimber’s brand new pink bicycle – which Kimber had just gotten for Christmas only 8 days prior.  Seeing her sister riding up the street on her bike, Kimber decided to go back into the house to get a jacket.  It took her all of 90 seconds to return to the front yard where she would run to catch up with Mikelle.  But instead of seeing her sister riding farther up the street, what Kimber saw instead was her empty bike, lying on its side in the middle of the street, pointed back in the direction of their house – the front wheel still spinning.  In 90 seconds – Mikelle Biggs went

In March 2012, the quiet town of Urbana Ohio (about 50 miles west of Columbus) was rocked to its core when a local murder became national news – not just because of the horrendous nature of the crime, but the affiliation of the perpetrators with a loose-knit “family” whose insistence on loyalty turned twisted beyond belief.  The victim, 21 year-old Jessica Rae Sacco, was found by her landlord, dead in the bathtub of the Urbana duplex she shared with her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Matthew Puccio.  Jessica had been suffocated to death, her body partially dismembered and left behind in the bathtub.  And it was the partial dismemberment of the body – and the story behind it – that made this case so horrifying – both in its cruelty and its evil, unforgivable, incomprehensible stupidity.  Jessica had fallen in with Puccio, who she met online and was four years her senior, shortly after the young woman – who was bipolar and on medication – had moved in to the duplex on Light Street in Urbana.  Puccio moved in,