2023-12-08 00:33:08
Season 4 returns 8/8. Host Payne Lindsey heads to the edge of the arctic circle to investigate two mysterious disappearances from Nome, Alaska. Up and Vanished investigates mysterious cold case disappearances with each new season of the hit true crime franchise. Season 1: The case of missing South Georgia teacher, Tara Grinstead, led to two arrests. Season 2: The disappearance of Kristal Reisinger, a young mother who disappeared from a remote Colorado mountain town. Season 3: The North West Montana disappearance of Ashley Loring HeavyRunner, an indigenous woman who went missing from the Blackfeet Nation Indian Reservation. Season 4: The case of missing Alaska Native, Florence Okpealuk and missing 36-year-old Joseph Balderas.
As we prepare for a new season of Up and Vanish this January, please check out The Vanishing
Point, a new series from the Up and Vanish team. This podcast is absolutely free, but
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In every community there are outliers. It doesn't matter where you are, a big city
or a small town. And that's the case on reservations too. As our team spoke to people
in and around Hoopa, the so-called end of the road seemed to have a reputation of being
the place where outliers live. But it was time for our team to see this place for themselves.
Our team is currently standing at the end of the road. It's an area Emily Riesling
frequented and the spot her family believes she disappeared from. There isn't much here
except for a few trailers, an old building, and the river.
Hey Frank, it's Laura, the journalist.
Frank, a resident of the end of the road, claims he actually saw Emily near the time
of her disappearance and that she told him about plans to float downriver. Though the
behavior wouldn't be unusual of Emily, some Hoopa residents are suspicious of Frank.
I think he's okay. Hi. Hi, Frank. My name's Laura. I work with Allie Hossler. I work with
Allie Hossler for the paper. My name's Laura.
Well, come on in.
Laura and Jamie went to Frank's home to talk to him about what he remembers.
She wasn't on drugs.
So she seemed in good spirits.
Yeah. She wanted to clean up my house and yeah, she was in way good spirits.
Okay.
And she walked around naked a few times and that never did ever bother me.
Tell us the last thing that you remember Emily saying to you or doing while she was here.
Me and my cousin, that's where we were sitting at, and he was the last to talk to her. And
she carried on a normal conversation. But she was on a mission. She wanted to get to Appa.
What is there? What is that place?
Nothing. Just a bunch of spiritual praying grounds. That's why she wanted to go in that
direction. She could have said, hey, can you take me to Appa? And I would have found a
way to get her there. But she didn't ask. But I believe she's still around here. Not
in this form of life. But wondering why no one's come forward to say, hey, I've done
something to him or I seen him last or something. No one's getting involved in things like this
no more. Rather hide or not say nothing. Me, I don't care. I'm 65 years old. I don't
care no more.
Frank's trailer is small, worn by the glow of a wood-burning stove. There are clothes
and other belongings scattered on every surface. Despite the rumors, Frank himself seems
unintimidating. He has a worn look about him, the type of eyes that seem like they've
weathered a challenge or two. Limping a bit from an injured ankle, he wears a boot on
his left leg.
Emily, it still bothers me about her. And it bothers a lot of other people. And I don't
see how you can just come up and miss it.
Frank seemed open to talking about Emily. And he wants to set the record straight about
his cooperation with law enforcement.
What message do you have to people that are spreading things about you?
Hey, let them talk. They've got nothing else better to do than to talk about me and
things that is not even true. Then I heard everybody say, yeah, she's buried underneath
here in his house. And he's got her somewhere, this and that. And how stupid is that? So
I got a hold of the sergeant. So I told him that you have more law come down to my house
anytime, look around, whatever. Yeah, I have nothing to hide. What people say about me,
it's all bullshit.
I'm Slicia Stanton, and this is The Vanishing Point.
You've arrested him, but he probably deserved it. And you sound like you think you're a
good guy.
Hell yeah. Arrested him a couple times. Even, you know, if you arrest somebody, treat them
with respect, treat them like a human being. And then when you see them again, they're
not motherfucking you. They're like, I ain't doing no wrong.
Jamie and Laura regroup with the rest of our team and Yurok Tribal Police Chief Greg O'Rourke.
As O'Rourke mentioned, after a series of arrests, he's quite familiar with Frank. In
fact, a few days prior to our visit, Frank had been released from Sempervirens, the primary
mental health facility serving the area.
Although rumors still swirl, Frank was never a suspect. In fact, he was interviewed three
times by law enforcement, and his account remained consistent. And the fact is, Frank
might have been the last person to see Emily, but without a time or date confirmation, Pequan
Bridge remains her last verified location.
As for our team, they perceive Frank as forthcoming, at least during their visit. He even spoke
openly about his lifelong struggle with substance abuse. Still, the overarching mystery persists.
What became of Emily Risling that fateful October day?
Ali Hosler from the Two Rivers Tribune suspects that the river holds clues.
I know several people have gone missing in the river, and usually it's up to family members
to recover them, to either launch a boat and go recover them themselves, or even people
will wait at the mouth of the Klamath and wait there for their loved one to get washed out.
My brother actually drowned in the river in 2013. He was running from police, and that's
sort of a common thing where people will jump in the river to evade police in a pursuit.
And he did that, and he didn't make it out.
So, I know of at least three other people around my age that did the same thing. A lot
of them make it, and some of them don't. I think that's just the general fear of police.
There's an overall fear of certain officers not treating people fairly. You know, there's
been cases where people from here have been beaten in jail by correctional officers. There's
also a fear of, if I go to jail, I can't use my drugs. I don't have access to drugs like
I did before. So, when you're an addict and your addiction's taking over your life, avoid
jail at all costs, because you have to either find drugs in jail or you have to clean up.
And not everyone wants to clean up.
While there are still so many questions surrounding Emily's disappearance, we know that substance
abuse may have played a role. And if it did, she wouldn't be alone. According to the
CDPH Overdose Dashboard, the area encompassing Hoopa Valley reports an opioid death rate
eight times the state average. And Ali says it's not only the folks struggling with addiction
whose lives are in peril. The spouses, the kids, the parents, the friends, the community,
nothing and no one seems immune.
To better understand where this crisis began, we spoke with Humboldt County Sheriff William
Hansel.
In Humboldt County, we had a pervasive drug culture. It started with marijuana, and then
it goes to psilocybin, mushrooms, and methamphetamine. Heroin was huge, cocaine, and now fentanyl.
And a lot of people say, well, you have a lot of people that looks like are suffering
from either being addicted to drugs and becoming zombie-like. Is that because of the substance
abuse or is that because of mental illness? I think it's obviously a little bit of both.
We have people that have that dual diagnosis. If they are addicted to drugs, they oftentimes
have some mental illness that's tied to it. Being in a rural jurisdiction in California
does not make us immune to the fentanyl issues. And we've seen a huge number of fentanyl
overdoses here in our county. It has doubled every year for the last three years.
Which is way too much.
We've outfitted all of our deputies with Narcan in hopes that if we come across someone
who is overdosing that we can save their life. And that has happened several times in the
last couple of years.
I believe that there are people that explicitly target people in tribes because sometimes
they're stuck in the reservation or maybe these people are stuck in an addiction or
two. You're looking at people that want to take advantage of the system in place. And
there are cartels, there are gang members, there are people that are anti-government
that hide out on tribal land because they believe that there's some kind of insulation
by living in the tribal community. And the cartels see that they can take advantage of
people by giving them money, giving them drugs, giving them access, buys them time, buys
them opportunities to live amongst members of the tribal community. And when law enforcement
does come, it is a very difficult task. And oftentimes they're shunned. It can become
very dangerous.
So clearly, drugs are a hot-button issue in California, and particularly in Humboldt
County, where Hoopa is located. But health concerns and potential overdoses aren't the
only risks.
It really feels like it's still the Wild West. And there's a lot of people who are
and they don't really have a handle on it in terms of policing that area. They never
have.
We called on Chief Judge Victorio Shaw, a tribal judge in California, to tell us more
about some of the more hidden obstacles.
I mean, people blatantly growing illegal marijuana, it's created an outlaw culture. And so that
goes hand in hand with outlaw justice. Or just, I already break these laws, I'll break
a couple more.
Once marijuana was legalized in 2016, the regulatory fees and environmental standards
basically priced a lot of people out of the trade. And then the subsequent boom in marijuana
farming meant supply quickly outpaced demand. It destroyed sellers' economic advantage.
With all of these changes, many struggled to maintain their way of life. In California,
illegal marijuana cultivation continues, and unfortunately, it's gained a reputation for
not treating workers fairly.
So many people relied on the marijuana industry to pay their bills, to feed their children,
to survive. They didn't really have a resume and a skill set to be able to support themselves
in other ways. So many people who were already self-admitted outlaws turned to other areas
of crime. So whether that's maybe selling fentanyl instead of marijuana, or that's stealing
in burglarizing places. Maybe they're just in such a desperate state, they don't really
care anymore about other people. They're just out for themselves and they're addicted now.
So I think there's sort of a belief that if you are a criminal, you can get away with
it easier, longer, and maybe forever in a place like Humboldt County.
I learned pretty early on growing up there that be careful what situations you put yourself in.
Everyone's super territorial and aggressive about it. And that's to say there's not really
lovely, beautiful things and people. There's definitely that, but you could just break
it down by statistics. Something's more likely to happen in some places compared to others,
and that's the reality.
Humboldt County is home to ancient redwood forests, environmentally sensitive creeks
and streams, and pot. This scenic stretch is where 60% of marijuana is grown in the
United States. Experts tell us it's not the climate or the soil that draws farmers here,
it's the isolation. You have a range of farmers, those who do it right and follow the rules,
and the illegal growth sometimes hidden on federal land. And there's another startling
statistic. Humboldt County also has the highest rate of missing person cases in the state.
There's a lot of stories of connection with the illegal marijuana industry that was for
years people would go missing, and that was almost an accepted fact. To be fair to the
law enforcement, Native people aren't the only ones that go missing up there and aren't
found and aren't looked for. A lot of people go missing up there, and most of them are
never found. Historically, criminals have sought Indian reservations to hide out on
because they know they're even less likely to be found and arrested if they have warrants
or they're suspected in other cases. So it almost attracts those types of people.
When I was a kid growing up there, and this is just purely like school gossip, but people
would say, oh, Humboldt County is the serial killer capital of the world because people
can hide out there, and there's a million places to hide bodies. It is a very beautiful
place, and it has a lot of healing energy. But yeah, there's people in the shadows that
aren't there for that.
Over and over again, as we delved into these missing persons cases, the topic of drugs
kept surfacing. It was a sign that this was a piece of the puzzle worth investigating
further. But even after we did, so much was still unanswered. We were left with the same
central question. What happened to Emily Risling? Here again is Chief Greg O'Rourke.
It's not that I think that. I can't confirm foul play. I can't confirm a drowning. But
I have to be objective and I have to be open-minded to that's a possibility. And without any indicator
of foul play, then the likelihood of that possibility becomes stronger.
The Risling family hasn't found these answers satisfying. They hope for more searches of
the area. They hope that Emily will one day be found.
What can a community do? Well, acknowledge and accept that mental health is an issue
and not get caught up in the stigma of it. Because when and if it gets to a point where
law enforcement gets involved because of missing or because of a crime, we need to know who
we're dealing with, not who that person was. And I remember telling Emily's mom, is still
having an opportunity to be able to help her people by her message and her story coming
out. And, you know, poor Judy, you know, he cried on that. And, you know, I felt bad,
but it's, you know, also how I see it. And as for Judy Risling?
It's frustrating. I run into people every day that have no idea about this crisis that's
going on in the Native communities. So I think bringing awareness and searching immediately,
these are just like any other missing people.
Emily would be out there advocating for this. And so, in a way, it's kind of like her talking
through me to keep this out there in the public.
We good?
We're good to go.
Okay.
Okay, so we can start by, you can introduce yourself, your connection to Simi and just
anything else you feel comfortable sharing.
Okay, so I'm Aurelia Alatorre. I am 27.
As we looked into Emily's case, we learned about other cases in the area, and some of
them shared similarities. One of these stories was Sumi Juan's. Like Emily, before she
disappeared, Sumi struggled with mental illness.
My connection to Sumi, she is my mother, and I haven't lived with her since I was five.
I wouldn't live with my dad, and there was just always, like, custody battles. So it's
really hard for me, when I'm asked about my mom, like, it's really hard for me to say,
like, who she was, because I didn't really grow up with her.
Aurelia hasn't seen her mom in 13 years.
So we were living in Reading, and we had come over to Hoopa for dentist appointments, which
we did frequently at races. I was coming out, and I was going to make a new appointment,
and they have this board right when you walk out, and I had seen this poster of her. She
was wearing a white T-shirt. Her hair was in a bun with flyaways, and that was the first
time I'd seen it or heard anything about it. And it said she was missing, like, September
or October. It was kind of just a shock.
Aurelia learned about her mother's disappearance from a missing poster at the dentist's office.
Her family had been hopeful that Sumi might turn up, so they'd kept her disappearance
a secret. It was best to not upset Aurelia, they'd reasoned, but their plans had the
opposite effect.
I didn't say anything until we got home, because it was like, is that even real? And
I talked to my dad about it, and he said, well, we were hoping she was going to come
back, so they didn't say anything.
I don't know many details, but I know that she had a really hard life.
Without many memories of her mother, Aurelia relies on family and friends to help fill
in the gaps.
And I have recently been told that she had us go live with my dad because she wanted
us to have a better life. She essentially just, like, gave us to my dad, but she was
also dealing with, like, her mental health issues, so I get it.
Laura wrote an article about Sumi for the Two Rivers Tribune.
Juan was 32 years old when she was reported missing to the Humboldt County Sheriff's
Office on October 29, 2010.
According to the Sheriff's Office, Juan was last seen by family members in early October
or September 2010 at Hoopa Elementary School.
All current information about Juan's case is listed under the unsolved cases on the
Humboldt County's website.
Juan is described as a missing person under suspicious circumstances.
Can you talk a little bit about how your mom's disappearance has impacted you?
I feel like I've just been surviving, to be honest.
When my mom went missing, it felt like nobody was searching for her, like, even her own
tribe. Like, it was very little effort, so it was just disappointing to see.
So it was mostly silence?
I know that there were searches. It isn't, like, happening all the time.
Like, how it is, like, now, if someone goes missing. I mean, they put out rewards.
They're everywhere. And that wasn't the case.
Laura interviewed Sumi's mother, Aurelia's grandmother, Sylvia Carpenter.
This is what she had to say.
Carpenter explained that the last time that she saw her daughter, Juan was on her way
to see a Hoopa resident who Carpenter suspected was a drug dealer.
I said, what are you doing? You know how they are.
I've never seen her again after that.
In the years that followed Juan's disappearance, Carpenter said a family member of the alleged
drug dealer implied to Carpenter that they knew Juan's whereabouts.
They came to me and said, you want to know something about your daughter?
You have to come and see me, but you have to come by yourself.
Carpenter said, for real? And I didn't go. I never did go.
Carpenter said that she was eventually told that Juan's remains are allegedly under a
cement slab at the home of the alleged drug dealer in Hoopa.
He would never let anybody go there, Carpenter said.
He's been no good his whole life.
I've heard a lot of things about my mom's
disappearance and everything
has ended with murder. And those stories are hard to hear.
And what's even more crazy is that person
who ever did it is probably someone we know. We all know here.
And they're just walking around.
The alleged offender Aurelia is referring to hasn't been named a suspect.
And it's unclear if he was investigated for Sumi's disappearance or
if the talk around town is just gossip.
We don't have any further information on this person, but a press release published by
Humboldt County Sheriff's Office in November of 2010 did indicate
that there may have been potential leads.
Humboldt County Sheriff's detectives are interested in speaking to two people
they believe spent time with Juan near the time of her disappearance.
Detectives are attempting to locate Robert Hodge Jr.
and Deborah Jealous of him, both of Hoopa.
Sheriff's detectives wish to emphasize that neither of the two
are suspects in the disappearance.
We attempted to locate Robert Hodge Jr.
and Deborah Jealous of him. And while we weren't able to locate Robert,
we found through a public record search that he had been arrested in 2019
during a meth and heroin bust in Hoopa.
We were able to locate information on Deborah Jealous of him.
Sadly, a newspaper article from 2018 states that she passed away
after being found unresponsive in an alleyway.
Our team had an interview scheduled with Sumi's mom,
but when they arrived, she'd changed her mind.
Other family members also declined our interview requests.
Laura has her thoughts on why they may not want to talk.
Based off of what I've been told, she was last seen
heading towards a person who was living in Hoopa at the time,
and he was a known drug dealer. And that seems to have been
the last sort of concrete time that anyone saw her.
And it's, you know, there seems to be a lot of rumors, like a lot
of these cases, a lot of rumors from people who live in the community.
Because as far as I'm aware, he was a drug dealer and he may still be,
and I think he has some pretty unsavory connections.
So I don't judge anyone for not wanting to come forward with information,
but there definitely seems to be fear surrounding this particular individual.
In tight-knit, insular communities like Hoopa,
it's hard to get away from a person of interest.
When a case goes unsolved for so long, those fears, they fester.
Aurelia is no stranger to this.
I mean, I'm constantly concerned something's going to happen to me and my kids.
I just, as a mom, I became so paranoid.
We were in Sacramento and I was going to take them to the park,
and I drove around for like 30, 40 minutes because I was too scared to get out of the car.
It's like, I'm so vulnerable. If something happens, I can't save both of them.
So it's different. Now anything can happen.
Like, nothing's impossible.
It's crazy because my mom went missing on the reservation,
but this is where I feel the safest.
I don't know if I could really live anywhere else.
Aurelia proudly displays a tattoo on her collarbone,
a dandelion, half blown away in the wind,
her mother's name above it.
It's a memento, one that honors her mom and reminds her of her spirit.
So it was my first tattoo.
And it was funny because the tattoo artist, he was like,
oh, I'm going to need to add some white because you're a little dark.
My mom was very dark and my grandma, she's pretty dark too, so it's kind of funny.
I think it's great that you have that. That's very special.
Yeah, I actually, my grandma had gave me
like a couple journals of my mom's and one of them said
who she was, I'm Sue Miguel Juan, and she said
I have three beautiful daughters that I love dearly, so I'll probably add that somewhere.
The last 13 years have presented
challenges for Aurelia. She's determined to use her
experience to help others. Just recently in the last couple of years,
I went through such an angry phase.
When someone would come up missing or anything, I'm like, well, why should I care? They didn't care.
And then I'm like, and that's terrible now that I think about it, but I was just so angry.
And now I'm like, okay, I want to be a part
of whatever they're doing. So I recently
I took this job. I applied for MMIP Advocate.
I want to be able to help individuals impacted by
a family member or a friend who was murdered or
missing. We can help them, assist them to go if they need a place
to stay or just directing them to different resources.
And I am a little nervous with the job because I still deal with
it on a day-to-day basis, so I'm just a little
nervous that it might be too much for me, but I'm going to do it as long as I can.
Allie took us to the MMIP
office, the same one where Aurelia works.
It's an unassuming building right off a tree-lined road.
This is the Hoopa Valley Tribes MMIP
and Domestic Violence Prevention Program office.
The office provides a lot of support, including a safe space for
victims. It's a resource that caters to a wide range of needs.
Whether it's escaping dangerous situations or simply finding a calm
secure spot to do laundry, it's a valuable asset to the community.
There's a whole Indian Health Service Clinic campus
here with several programs. There's a Medically Assisted
Treatment Program office, there's a medical clinic, there's
a Diabetes Prevention Program office, and then also this
MMIP office is a couple years old, but a fairly new addition.
But the tribe recognized the need to address the
MMIP epidemic here on the reservation and established this office as part of that.
As the team
walks down the hallway, a bulletin board in one of the rooms grabs
their attention. It's covered with flyers.
When they get close enough to read the board, they see it's cluttered
with missing posters.
A majority of the cases in our database
were actually mothers and children.
I think somebody did something
to my dad.
With MMIP cases overwhelming law enforcement,
the Up & Vantage team dives into a new unsolved case from the
Valley area. That's next time on The Vanishing Point.
Thanks for listening to this episode of The Vanishing Point.
This six-part series is released weekly, absolutely free.
But if you want to listen to it ad-free, subscribe to Tenderfoot Plus
at tenderfootplus.com or on Apple Podcasts.
The Vanishing Point is a production of Tenderfoot TV
in association with Odyssey.
The show is written by Meredith Stedman, Alex Vespistead,
and Jamie Albright, with additional writing assistance by
Selesia Stanton. Executive producers are Donald Albright and myself,
Payne Lindsey. Lead producer is Jamie Albright, along with
Meredith Stedman. Editing by Alex Vespistead.
Additional editing by Sydney Evans. Supervising producer is
Tracy Kaplan. Additional production by Laura Frater and Allie Hossler.
Research by Laura Frater and Taylor Floyd.
Artwork by Byron McCoy. Original music by Makeup
and Vanity Set. Mix by Dayton Cole. Thank you to Oren Rosenbaum
and the team at UTA, Beck Media and Marketing, and the Nord Group.
And a special thanks to Greg O'Rourke, the KIDE
91.3 radio station in Hoopa, the Two Rivers Tribune,
and all of the families and community members that spoke to us.
For more podcasts like The Vanishing Point, search Tenderfoot TV on your favorite
podcast app, or visit us on our website at tenderfoot.tv.
Thanks for listening.
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