Skip to main content

In the Dark

A podcast that really stunned me is "In the Dark."

This one has two seasons. The first concerns a major kidnapping--a child named Jacob Wetterling--from several years ago. After Wetterling went missing, a national buzz began. Geraldo became involved. Sensational stories circulated.

A myth hovered around the case: Law enforcement was doing everything possible. The efforts of "the good guys" were heroic.

"In the Dark" exposes some uncomfortable truths. In fact, the efforts of law enforcement were not heroic. When someone goes missing, your job is to interview everyone living very close by. To focus on the tight circle surrounding the victim. That tight circle often yields answers. Data that might seem meaningless--"I spotted a car I didn't recognize"--could turn out to link to the solution to the case.

You then go back and re-interview all the neighbors. You schedule re-re-interviews. Holes in stories, and discrepancies, turn out to be your bread and butter.

But officials didn't interview all the neighbors. They certainly didn't spend time on re-interviews.

Additionally, officials smeared at least one person who wasn't involved, in any way, in the case. This basically ruined his life: The guy continues to suffer from PTSD. His name will always be connected (wrongly) to the case. Law enforcement has never offered him an apology.

"In the Dark" ends with a damning assessment: We think various mythical cases are crazily complex, and that they involve criminal masterminds, but it's likely that very often the people in power simply aren't doing their jobs. I have a contrarian response to most podcasts, and I wonder if "In the Dark" could work a bit harder to see things from the officials' perspective--but, that said, I have to admit "In the Dark" builds its case really well. It's hard not to walk off with a sense of simmering rage.

The podcast reminded me strongly of Janet Malcolm's writing--finding counterintuitive insights by investigating the investigators. Looking closely at the scripts we tend to recite from. Poking holes in these scripts--scripts that we tend to view as gospel.

It's evident that the podcast is the work of professionals, with vast resources--funds and scrappiness unavailable to most podcasters. Spend your time wisely. Schedule a date with "In the Dark."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...