UNSOLVED MURDERS

A dive into the archives shows 'Tylenol Murders' of 1982 spread fear throughout the country

Trisha Taurinskas — Thu, 12 Jun 2025 15:45:00 GMT

CHICAGO — A wave of mysterious deaths among those who consumed tainted Extra Strength Tylenol in the Chicago area in the early 1980s sparked panic and fear nationwide, particularly among nearby states.

The deaths, which totaled seven in all, are at the center of the Netflix docuseries, "Cold Case: The Tylenol Murders," which takes viewers behind the scenes of the investigation, featuring interviews with investigators and family members of the victims.

The crimes remain unsolved.

The string of mysterious deaths began on Sept. 29, 1982, the morning after 12-year-old Mary Mary Kellerman took a single Extra Strength Tylenol capsule to relieve a sore throat.

Family and medical professionals were left stunned. Kellerman was an otherwise healthy child.

Days later, six more victims were reported dead -– each with similar symptoms.

Panicked, law enforcement and public safety officials rushed to find the source of contamination.

The answer came when public health nurse Helen Jensen put the pieces of the puzzle together. Three of the victims belonged to the same family –- and each had taken Extra Strength Tylenol from the same bottle.

The bottle tested positive for cyanide, as did the bottles belonging to the four other victims. The bottles were traced back to two different facilities: one in Pennsylvania and one in Texas.

Yet the victims who consumed the tainted capsules lived in the Chicago area.

The “Tylenol Murders” docuseries presents multiple theories on who was responsible for the deaths, including one man who wrote Johnson & Johnson, the company that manufactures Tylenol, a letter claiming responsibility for the deaths — and demanding $1 million.

James W. Lewis, who was interviewed in the docuseries just before his death, admitted to writing the letter. He said he did so with the motivation of framing his wife's previous employer.

He used the alias Richard Richardson to write the letter.

Lewis denied any involvement in the Tylenol deaths.

Physical evidence fell short to charge Lewis for the deaths related to the tainted Tylenol and instead charged him with extortion, which led to a conviction and a 10-year prison sentence.

A 1982 edition of the West Central Tribune regarding James Lewis, convicted of extortion for sending a letter claiming responsibility for the Tylenol deaths. Newspapers.com. Click on image for link to original story.

Others interviewed in the docuseries question whether Johnson & Johnson played a role. No charges have been filed against the company.

In the wake of the deaths, Johnson & Johnson issued a massive recall of Extra Strength Tylenol and implemented a new tamper-free cap on all bottles of Tylenol.

For many viewers, the "Tylenol Murders" represents a blast from the past, when danger lurked in the medicine cabinets of most households around the country.

Archives from Minnesota and North Dakota newspapers in 1982 and 1983 show the fear was widespread. The mystery consumed everyday Americans, from the northern to southern borders.

A front page story in the Fargo Forum reflected that fear. With the string of deaths coming just one month after Halloween, suddenly wrapped candy didn’t seem so safe.

A front page story in the Fargo Forum in 1982 shows the fear that spread throughout the area in the wake of the Tylenol deaths. Newspapers.com. Click on image for link to original story.

The Tylenol deaths also led to a string of cop-cat crimes — and cases in which Americans feared they, too, had consumed tainted products.

A 1982 article in the Fargo Forum shows the fear felt by Americans throughout the country in the wake of the Tylenol deaths. Newspapers.com. Click on image for link to original story.

Tylenol and its manufacturer were able to withstand the public relations storm, and the fear surrounding tainted medications faded.

What caused the deaths remains unknown, and a topic of contention among victims' family members and investigators.

The three-part Tylenol Murders docuseries can be streamed now on Netflix.

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They thought the identity of the severed head would be known by now. Faulty DNA samples are derailing efforts

Trisha Taurinskas — Thu, 05 Jun 2025 14:55:00 GMT

SCANDIA, Minn. — The identity of a woman whose remains were found scattered in two Minnesota Lakes in the summer of 1993 is still unknown, despite recent attempts to create a DNA profile.

The DNA Doe Project, a nonprofit organization that utilizes DNA analysis with investigative forensic genealogy to discover the identity of the unidentified, was hopeful last summer that the identity of the woman, referred to as “Bone Lake Jane Doe,” was just a few lab tests away.

Bone Lake Jane Doe’s remains were undergoing a critical step in the identification process: DNA extraction. Yet despite multiple attempts, results were unable to create a genetic profile.

“Unfortunately, the sample did not successfully yield a DNA profile and the case is on hold while the agency tries to locate and acquire more DNA extract,” Pam Lauritzen, Executive Director of Media and Communications with DNA Doe Project, told Forum News Service. “We may have a couple of new lab options on the horizon to try, but we’ve made no progress yet.”

The female head was discovered on June 12, 1993, by a man out for a walk along the shores of Bone Lake in Scandia, Minn., a rural community with a population of 4,000 residents near the Wisconsin border.

At first glance, the man assumed he was staring at a mannequin’s head. A closer look revealed that the head, bluntly cut at the neck, belonged to a woman. With minimal days of exposure to the elements, the head remained somewhat intact.

Bone Lake Jane Doe had brown eyes and dark, short hair. Her ears were pierced — three times over. The medical examiner’s report put her age between 30 and 65 years old, according to the DNA Doe Project.

Her foot was later discovered in Pigs Eye Lake, a 628-acre shallow backwater lake on the southern end of St. Paul, roughly 35 minutes from Bone Lake. Investigators noted that two of her toes were painted with red nail polish.

Because the head had been preserved in the waters of Bone Lake, an accurate sketch of the woman was used as an effort to discover her identity. The sketch was distributed throughout the country. Yet over the course of 30 years, it has not led investigators to her true identity.

DNA analysis is, at this point, the last hope for answers.

Bone Lake Jane Doe wasn’t the only woman whose remains were discovered in 1993 in rural Minnesota.

Months after the discovery in Bone Lake, the remains of Martha Bacon were unearthed in rural Wright County, roughly 40 miles west of the Twin Cities. Bone Lake is located roughly 40 miles northeast of the Twin Cities.

A year after Bacon was discovered, Wright County Sheriff's Office investigators came across the severed skull of 25-year-old Victoria Marie Morris.

Each case remains unsolved.

Martha Bacon

Four months after Bone Lake Jane Doe’s head was found, a resident in Wright County’s Silver Creek Township watched as his dog returned to the yard with a human forearm and hand in its mouth.

Through fingerprint analysis, the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension identified the victim as 31-year-old Martha Bacon.

Bacon had been considered missing for one month before the dog’s discovery. She was last seen in North Minneapolis in the early hours of Sept. 27 or Sept. 28, 1993.

In the wake of the discovery, the Wright County Sheriff’s Office executed an extensive search, covering two square miles over the course of several days. During that time, they were unable to locate additional remains.

Ten months later, another dog returned to its owner with Bacon’s lower leg and foot. The discovery was made one-and-a-half miles from the area where Bacon’s forearm and hand were retrieved.

Because Bacon’s remains were discovered submerged in water, they remained somewhat intact.

The second discovery prompted another search, executed by the Wright County Sheriff’s Office — this time yielding results.

The search uncovered a human head, severed at the neck. Dental records proved the remains belonged to Bacon.

The discovery launched a wave of fear throughout Wright County, prompting residents to gather for a community meeting with the Wright County Sheriff’s Office.

The meeting revealed Bacon was a sex worker in Minneapolis — and investigators theorized the person responsible was likely a customer.

Law enforcement also indicated the suspect was likely someone familiar with the Silver Creek area, as Bacon’s remains were found scattered in swampy areas known mostly by locals.

The investigative file related to the disappearance of Belinda Van Lith, who went missing from Wright County in 1974, stated there was at least one suspect in Bacon's dismemberment: Timothy Crosby.

Crosby had a family cabin in Wright County and a history of violent sexual assault and armed abduction. Crosby is civilly committed at the secure Moose Lake Sex Offender Treatment Program facility.

In a January 2024 interview with Forum News Service, Crosby said he wasn’t a violent person in the 1980s or 1990s.

Less than a year after Bacon was found, Wright County residents learned of yet another victim.

Victoria Morris

Victoria Marie Morris' skull was discovered alongside I-94, near St. Michael in Wright County on Oct. 8, 1994, according to the Minnesota BCA.

Her body was discovered 10 feet away in a grassy ditch, wrapped in rope and tape.

Investigators said marks around her neck indicated she had been strangled. The murder weapon was found by her side, but the Wright County Sheriff’s Office has not revealed the nature of the weapon.

However, a cold case investigation into Morris’ death revealed unknown male DNA was discovered on the weapon, according to a 2009 St. Paul Pioneer Press article.

Like Bacon, Morris was a sex worker in the Minneapolis area. Investigators theorized the perpetrator was also likely a customer familiar with the Wright County area.

Crosby was also named a suspect in Morris' case at one point. However, his DNA did not match the male sample taken from the murder weapon.

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Key evidence unaccounted for in 1984 gravel pit slaying

Trisha Taurinskas — Sat, 31 May 2025 14:25:00 GMT

LUVERNE, Minn. — A pair of canvas shoes discovered along the shoreline of the rural Luverne gravel pit pond where Kelly Robinson’s body was discovered in 1984 are missing.

The 22-year-old Sioux Falls resident’s body was discovered on Memorial Day weekend by a family hiking in the remote area. The family first spotted her shoes, tossed along the pond’s shoreline. Minutes later, they saw the body of a woman floating in the pond

The shoes, at this point, could be a critical part of the investigation — if their whereabouts were known.

“I do not know anything about the shoes,” Rock County Sheriff's Deputy Chad Kempema told Forum News Service, adding that the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension is actively helping with the case.

Advanced DNA technology has been successful in cases where items of clothing were left behind at crime and death scenes. That was the case for the 1974 homicide of Mary Schlais, whose body was left in a Wisconsin ditch. Her assailant was convicted in 2025 after a hat found on the scene detected his DNA.

It is not clear what — if any — evidence the Rock County Sheriff’s Office has in their possession. When questioned about the evidence in Robinson’s case, including potential evidence near the shoreline, Sheriff Evan Verbruggee repeatedly told Forum News Service that she was found in the water.

"Well, she was in the water, so from the reports that we've been able to locate, the body was just there," Verbruggee replied when questioned about physical evidence collected in the case. "So the crime didn't probably happen in Rock County. So it's kind of hard to determine what evidence is evidence with anything around that location."

Kempema said the sheriff's office has some recordings, including interviews, in its possession. And while other evidence should be in the office, the deputy said it is not. He then referred questions to Verbruggee.

Despite being found in the water, Robinson died of asphyxiation, according to the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. That’s contrary to initial reports which suggested she died from drowning.

Defensive wounds on her hands indicated she fought back. Initial reports were not able to conclusively state she was sexually assaulted. She was found wearing just her jeans and jacket — with nothing underneath.

The circumstances surrounding Robinson’s death were suspicious, leading law enforcement to almost immediately declare the likelihood of foul play.

The area where Robinson’s body was discovered was, at the time, only accessible to those willing to trudge through roughly 100 yards of tall grass and underbrush.

It was a remote area, unknown to even some locals, including Tim Connell, the Rock County attorney at the time.

“I was born and raised here,” Connell told the Argus Leader in 1984. “This particular pond, I didn’t even know it was there.”

The location puzzled investigators — and Robinson’s family members.

Robinson’s medical condition wouldn’t have allowed her to make the treacherous journey to the pond on her own. She was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis years before her body was discovered.

She didn't have any connection to the Luverne area, either.

Robinson lived in Sioux Falls, a roughly 30-minute drive from where her body was found. Two witnesses said they saw Robinson leave the Frontier Bar with a man in a Ford Torino.

Shortly after Robinson's death, investigators said they believed they knew who was responsible: a man serving a 200-year sentence in South Dakota for violent sexual assaults. No evidence has been revealed that links this man to Robinson's death.

Her case remains unsolved.

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He was well-dressed, well-connected, with no 'enemy in the world' — until one blew him up

Jeremy Fugleberg — Fri, 04 Apr 2025 18:19:51 GMT

MINNEAPOLIS — They called him "Dapper Dan."

At first glance, Danny Hogan, 48, might have seemed like a well-dressed and gregarious bar owner, proprietor of the Green Lantern Saloon in downtown St. Paul.

In reality, Hogan was a mob boss, the linchpin of the Twin Cities criminal underworld in 1928, and something of a beloved one — at least for the time.

Headquartered at his bar, Hogan schmoozed gangsters and cops, serving as something of a go-between, a peacemaker, a man who kept the city's engine of crime and corruption well-lubricated.

The "recognized arbiter and dictator of the underworld," the Albert Lea Tribune called him.

That all ended on Dec. 4, 1928. He stepped on the starter switch of his new Paige coupe. The car, and Hogan, exploded into a ball of fire.

He was able to talk before his wounds killed him, including providing his wife a lead on a large nest-egg of cash, a stash whose whereabouts would eventually point the finger at his likely killer.

He was arguably the first Minnesota gangland boss to die by car bomb. His murder would never be formally solved.

"He was the idol of not a few persons and his word was said to have been 'as good as a gold bond,'" wrote the Minneapolis Tribune, memorializing talk around St. Paul on the day Hogan was killed. "To a number of person he was something of a Robin Hood. There will be some fewer turkey dinners in St. Paul this Christmas as a result of his death."

The Green Lantern

Everybody knew about the Green Lantern Saloon. The bar/restaurant was located in a long one-story brick building at 545 Wabasha Street N. in downtown St. Paul.

An apartment building now stands at the site. But in 1928, it was Hogan's legendary criminal hangout.

Rare photos of the bar taken a few years later by the St. Paul Police as part of a murder investigation show a low-ceiling bar, with dirty floors and three booths with wooden dividers. A menu above the bar trumpets spaghetti and pork shop sandwiches to order.

The infamous O'Connor Layover Agreement — a mutual safety deal between St. Paul Police and organized crime — had inevitably turned the city into a haven for criminals of all types, especially as Chicago and other towns in the East were increasingly becoming too "hot" for gangsters.

The deal was good as long as the racketeers kept their criminal activity outside St. Paul.

Hogan was a crucial part of the Agreement's larger goal. Police knew he had frequently given crooks money to get out of town and stay there.

"'Dapper Dan' was known...as a man who had the power to settle feudal wars and 'keep the heat out of town,' wrote the Minneapolis Tribune. "He is known to have told criminals, on many occasions, that they could stay in St. Paul as long as they behaved and started no 'racket.'"

The murder

Hogan was maybe a little late for work. He finished breakfast at his modest home at 1607 W. 7th St. in St. Paul, then at about 11:30 a.m. left his family and entered the garage behind his house and got behind the wheel of his car.

Tucked underneath the car's floorboards was a bomb — highly explosive nitroglycerin. When it exploded, it shattered the car's windows, tore off its hood, nearly sheared off Hogan's right leg, tore off a ring finger and drove him head first through the roof.

Hogan was rushed to the hospital, where he told Edward Diehl, the assistant Ramsay County attorney, he didn't know what exactly happened, or why.

"I don't know who could have done it," he said. "I didn't know I had an enemy in the world."

People from all walks of life — "racketeers, police characters and business men" — showed up at the hospital offering blood transfusions to help save Hogan's life. Still, he died just before 9 p.m.

The funeral was sumptuous. Thousands visited the O'Halloran & Murphy funeral home to pay their respects. The flower-bedecked cortege stretched for a mile, filled with "limousines, second hand roadsters, orchids and tiny bouquets, millionaires and hoboes," reported the Rochester Post Bulletin.

The killer?

Before closing his eyes for the last time, Hogan had told his wife, Leila, about a safe-deposit box holding $50,000 in cash (about $929,000 in 2025 dollars). After her husband's funeral, she went to retrieve the nest egg, but found the safe-deposit box empty.

There was only one other person who knew the money was kept there: Hogan's right-hand man, Harry Sawyer, said Paul Maccabee, author of "John Dillinger Slept Here," in a 2018 interview with the Minneapolis Star-Tribune.

"You ask, 'Who benefits? Who has the means, motive and opportunity?' And everyone who's reviewed the facts points absolutely and resoundingly at Harry Sawyer," Maccabee said.

Sawyer replaced Hogan's as the underworld boss of St. Paul (he would eventually end up in Leavenworth and Alcatraz prisons). But Hogan's murder had shredded the patina of respectability the Layover Agreement had attempted to maintain.

While nobody was ever charged with Hogan's murder, his grisly end heralded a new era for organized crime in the Twin Cities. The Hogan murder showed its streets could be just as deadly as those in Chicago, opined the Minneapolis Tribune:

"The brutally cruel death... is but one of the many instances that go to show that the financial rewards of racketeering are proportional to the chances of the racketeer being murdered by bomb, machine gun or revolver."

Note on sources: This article relies on contemporaneous news coverage from the Rochester Post Bulletin, the Albert Lea Tribune, the Austin Daily Herald, the Duluth News Tribune, the Minneapolis Journal, Minneapolis Star and the Minneapolis Tribune, all accessed via

Newspapers.com.

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She always locked her doors, fearing an attack. One night her worst fears came true

Trent Abrego — Tue, 01 Apr 2025 12:05:00 GMT

FAIRHAVEN, Minn. — Myrtle Vera Cole was a worrier.

The 81-year-old woman had a fear of someone breaking into her rural Stearns County home and harming her.

A series of recent crimes had Cole and her neighbors in tiny Fairhaven concerned in 1981. A mother and three children were shot and killed in the township a few years earlier, and the assistant postmaster died in a bombing in nearby Kimball in 1976.

Cole's husband, Roy, died in 1970, according to a 1981 Star Tribune article, and she lived by herself in a two-story house with peeling paint and no plumbing. She was a stranger to most in the community but was part of a Bible group and known to some for her love of stray animals, according to news reports at the time.

Myrtle Cole religiously locked her doors whether she was home or away.

“Back in the '80s, people who knew her, who were close to her, that she might’ve talked about that she had a fear of (someone breaking in) or was just very cautious, if you will,” Stearns County Sheriff's Office investigator Anthony Kotschevar told St. Cloud LIVE in March.

Somehow, her worst fears were made manifest sometime overnight between Dec. 11 and Dec. 12, 1981. Someone broke into Cole's home and stabbed and killed her in an act that authorities called "vicious."

For more than 43 years, Cole’s death has remained unsolved despite the ongoing efforts of Stearns County detectives.

'Homicidal violence'

Myrtle Cole’s nephew and closest family member, Milo Cole, called her at about 8:30 a.m. on Saturday, Dec. 12, 1981, according to a St. Cloud Times article.

She never answered, so he headed over to her house at about 9:30 a.m.

The area just had a fresh snowfall, but Cole noticed there were no footprints as he shoveled the steps. At the back of the house, he discovered a shattered glass pane and found broken glass throughout the home.

Cole entered the bedroom, where he found Myrtle Cole motionless, lying face down on the bed, naked from the waist down, her legs dangling over the edge, with a quilt over her head, he told the St. Cloud Times in 1981.

Authorities identified the cause of death as strangulation, but later explained the truth: Myrtle Cole was found stabbed in her sexual organs. Authorities refused to confirm whether she was mutilated or sexually assaulted, according to a 1981 Star Tribune article.

Investigator Kotschevar said the death was eventually identified as “homicidal violence.”

Numerous leads, but still unsolved

Investigators found some evidence at the scene of the crime, including a rusty knife and a bloody thumb or palm print, according to news reports at the time.

Authorities over the years have identified multiple suspects, but none have led to a conviction.

In 1983, 18-year-old Steve Berry claimed responsibility for the slaying. He told investigators he broke into the home and killed Cole. He later retracted the statement, telling reporters that he “never seen the lady” and knew nothing about her.

Authorities looked at convicted murderer Henry Lee Lucas, also known as the "Confession Killer," who claimed to have killed 100 women in at least 16 states, including Minnesota. He was later ruled out as a suspect.

Despite the case being unsolved for nearly 45 years, Kotschevar remains optimistic that authorities will track down Cole's killer.

In 2018, the Stearns County Sheriff's Office made a "big push" and focused on finding who killed Cole, Kotschevar said. Three years later, during the 40th anniversary, billboards advertising a $1,000 reward for tips leading to an arrest were placed along major roadways.

"Every year, there are advancements in technology, where there's something new that could help discover evidence that might have been missed last time. So whether it's resubmitting evidence that's been there already or talking to new people or people that we've already talked to," Kotschevar said. "Different things like that."

He said while the case remains ongoing, he often thinks about the killing.

"Is there a week, at minimum, that I'm not at least thinking about it or doing something with it? Probably not," said Kotschevar, who was assigned to the case in 2014, early in his investigative career. "There are times where we might be doing another case and all of a sudden, that jogs my memory as to something we've talked about in the Myrtle Cole homicide that we just write a note and go back and revisit it when we get time."

Can you help?

If you have any tips or information about the killing of Myrtle Vera Cole in 1981, contact the Stearns County Sheriff's Office at 320-251-4240, investigator Anthony Kotschevar at 320-259-3733 or Lt. Zach Sorenson at 320-259-3732.

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MMIW 218 event honors memory of murdered Arizona teen Emily Pike

Madelyn Haasken — Sat, 15 Mar 2025 17:46:10 GMT

BEMIDJI — More than 1,500 miles from where 14-year-old Emily Pike was found dead, dozens gathered at Paul Bunyan Park on Friday afternoon to honor her memory and demand justice for the death that rocked the Indigenous community.

Held by MMIW 218, the event aimed to raise awareness for the still-unsolved case and highlighted the violence Indigenous relatives face on a broader scale.

Pike, a member of the San Carlos Apache Tribe in Arizona, was reported missing in late January. According to reports, she was last seen walking in Mesa, a Phoenix suburb, after leaving her group home.

According to the Gila County Sheriff’s Office, her remains were found off U.S. Route 60 in eastern Arizona on Feb. 14. The sheriff’s office noted in a Feb. 27 Facebook post that Pike’s death is being investigated as a homicide, but no formal charges have been brought in the case.

Dressed in pink, Pike’s favorite color, each attendee was given a rose to hold as they gathered near Bemidji's Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox statues. Ahead of the event, organizers provided cards for people to sign that would be given to Pike’s family.

After an opening drum song, Bemidji City Councilor At-Large Audrey Thayer brought attention to the oppression that Indigenous women and girls face every day.

“I am tired of this. I’m tired that as women and as families, we do not know when this is going to happen to any of our families,” she said. “I’m going to ask you all to be vigilant, take care of each other, know your neighbors and help those who are in need.”

MMIW 218 organizer Simone Senogles welcomed attendees and expressed that Pike’s family was aware of the event and thankful for their support.

“I’m so happy to be here with you all and also so sad to be here with you all. Thank you for coming out to honor this young girl,” she said to the attendees. “We’re one of many other groups across the nation that are honoring her, and not just her but all of them, all of the people that we’ve lost, whether they’re from our community or anywhere across Turtle Island.”

Senogles shared some alarming statistics from 2024, noting that Indigenous women face higher rates of violence, including murder, sexual assault and physical abuse, than other groups.

“Some Indigenous women experience murder rates that are 10 times higher than the national average. Murder is the third leading cause of death for Native women,” she said. “There are concerns about the lack of data and accountability in cases of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls, with many cases not being reported or investigated adequately.”

A family friend of Pike, Michelle Brun, attended the event and took a moment to read a message from Pike’s family about the young girl.

“Emily Pike is our daughter, our granddaughter, sister, niece and cousin,” Brun read. “Her favorite color was pink and she loved to draw. She listened to Billie Eilish and played Roblox. She loved her family very much.

"... Losing her is hard enough, but the way she was taken from us is even more traumatizing. Although the pain is unbearable, the outpouring of love and support has been amazing during this difficult time.”

As northern Minnesota faces its own missing person cases, MMIW 218 organizer Valahlena Steeprock drew a connection between Pike and the disappearances of two Indigenous teenagers in Bemidji: Nevaeh Kingbird, who went missing in October 2021 at the age of 15, and 17-year-old Jeremy Jourdain, who disappeared on Halloween day in 2016.

“All over Indian country, some families don’t get to bring their loved ones home and so I just want to remember all the missing and murdered Indigenous people today,” she said. “This is for them. This is for Emily Pike, that poor baby didn’t deserve what she went through. And when I look at her, I see Nevaeh, I see Jeremy, I see all the MMIW.”

Underscoring the emotion felt throughout the crowd, MMIW 218 organizer Audrianna Goodwin recited a poem written by Abigail Echo-Hawk, a poet who often writes about Indigenous experiences.

"It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. Story told with wet eyes of limbs scattered, of hearts broken, of mothers left behind, of fathers who weep, of family who scream," she read. "Too often the sounds echo canyons of nothingness. Of invisibility. Of apathy. Of a country whose been trying to kill us. Now, letting their predators do it.

“Step into the canyon. Let their grief touch our skin. New ancestors swirling in winds, filling our throats, lifting our fists, printing new ink across our tongues that reads ‘Justice, we will only accept justice.’”

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A killer’s confession is prompting one family to demand answers in 50-year-old cold case

Trisha Taurinskas — Wed, 12 Mar 2025 14:55:00 GMT

MINNEAPOLIS — Family members of Joli Truelson are demanding action from the Minneapolis Police Department in the wake of a confession in the 1974 murder of Mary Schlais.

In a 10-page hand-delivered letter to the MPD, the family cites numerous similarities in the deaths of Truelson and Schlais, which occurred less than two years — and 2 miles — apart. The letter also includes details regarding the storied, nationwide criminal history of Jon Keith Miller, 84, who was charged with the murder of Mary Schlais.

Miller, 84, was arrested Nov. 7, 2024, at an Owatonna assisted living facility for the murder of 25-year-old Mary Schlais. At the time of his arrest, Miller confessed to picking up Schlais near her Uptown Minneapolis apartment before stabbing her 15 times when she refused his sexual advances.

He then threw her from his car in rural Dunn County, Wisconsin, and attempted to cover her body with snow.

Truelson was picked up on July 3, 1972, while hitchhiking near Lake Calhoun. At the time, she was 16. Her body was found the next day in Minneapolis’ Minnehaha Creek with a fatal skull fracture.

Both cases remained cold for more than 50 years — yet Truelson’s family long believed they were connected.

Schlais and Truelson each hitched rides in Uptown Minneapolis in what eyewitnesses described as gold-colored, two-door vehicles. In both cases, eyewitnesses described the driver as a man in his 30s, with mid-length brown hair.

Neither woman had been sexually assaulted, yet both suffered violent attacks before being taken to remote areas.

Minneapolis Police Sgt. Mark Suchta, who handles Truelson’s case, interviewed Miller following his November arrest. Miller denied any involvement in Truelson’s slaying.

Suchta told the Truelson family there are no new leads in the case.

In a message sent to Forum News Service, Suchta said he is not permitted to speak to the media about open and ongoing cases.

Questions raised

Suchta’s interview with Miller revealed more questions for Truelson’s family members, who were provided with a recording of the interaction. That recording was turned over to Forum News Service.

The 11-minute interview revealed at least three instances in which Miller was not truthful.

These falsehoods sounded off alarms for the family,

“Based upon all of the facts and circumstances presented, it is reasonable to expect the MPD spend more than 11 minutes interviewing him, taking him at his word of initial denial and concluding no further leads in the investigation,” the letter on behalf of the family states.

Details of these inconsistencies will be revealed in an upcoming series on The Vault podcast.

In addition to the murder charge for Schlais’ death, Miller’s criminal history includes convictions related to forgery, burglary, theft and armed robbery.

Transcripts included in court documents related to a 1969 California conviction for armed robbery reveal he “was characterized by feeling that he could con his way through life.”

“This apparent pattern should caution anyone choosing to take him at his word that he was rarely in Minneapolis, despite clear evidence to the contrary,” the letter states. “We would have provided this information to Sgt. Suchta before the interview, however he has refused to speak with me citing an ‘open and active investigation.’ ”

The Vault podcast will dive deeper into the criminal history of Miller and the cold case of Joli Truelson in an upcoming series, "Joli Truelson: Connecting the Dots," set to be released Friday, March 14, 2025.]]>

Advanced DNA testing could be the key to unlocking the 1974 deaths of two sisters

Trisha Taurinskas — Fri, 21 Feb 2025 15:50:00 GMT

STEARNS COUNTY, Minn. — A Stearns County cold case is one step closer to a possible conclusion.

Physical evidence retrieved from the scene of the 1974 slayings of Mary Reker, 15, and her sister, Susie Reker, 12, is undergoing cutting-edge DNA analysis — and investigators are hoping it leads to a resolution on a cold case that has plagued the department for more than 50 years.

“We still have physical evidence that was collected early in the investigation still in our possession,” Stearns County Sheriff’s Office Lt. Zach Sorenson told Forum News Service. “Currently some of which is being tested with advancements in DNA technology.”

Susie Reker and Mary Reker last stepped foot in their home in early September 1974, having left for a 40-minute stroll to a nearby store to buy school supplies. Witnesses saw the girls shopping that day — but the eyewitness accounts stopped there.

Their bodies were discovered on Sept. 28, 1974, at a quarry, located miles outside of St. Cloud. The discovery halted the 26-day search for the girls — and launched an investigation that remains open and unsolved.

The details of the physical evidence undergoing testing remain under wraps, yet details from the investigation indicate clothing was discovered at the scene.

When officers arrived to investigate, they discovered Susie Reker on a grass-filled edge of the quarry. She had suffered at least 13 stab wounds. The front of her sweater had been cut, along with her bra.

Mary Reker’s body was discovered floating in the quarry, with roughly five stab wounds. Initial reports indicate Mary’s clothing had been removed and thrown in the water, along with her body.

A similar case

The advanced DNA testing of physical evidence discovered at the Reker crime scene comes on the heels of the high-profile arrest of Jon Keith Miller, who confessed to law enforcement in November to the 1974 murder of Mary Schlais.

Miller told investigators he picked up the 25-year-old, who was hitchhiking a ride from Minneapolis to Chicago, on Feb. 15, 1974. When she refused his sexual advances, he began to repeatedly stab her. In all, she suffered roughly 15 stab wounds — and died as a result.

Miller drove to a rural dead-end road in Wisconsin’s Dunn County, where he threw her body out of the vehicle and attempted to cover her with snow. An eyewitness saw the whole thing, but Miller drove away and went under the radar for roughly 50 years.

A hat discovered at the scene was the key to unlocking the case. Recent advanced DNA testing yielded a positive genetic profile from the hat.

That DNA was submitted to New Jersey’s Ramapo College, which has a program specializing in investigative genetic genealogy. Utilizing the DNA profile, the team worked their way back through a family tree, which eventually led them to Miller.

The Reker sisters were killed in the same manner Schlais experienced: multiple stab wounds — and, like Schlais, the girls’ bodies were dumped in a nearby rural area. The crimes were committed five months apart, although in different parts of the state. St. Cloud is located roughly one hour away from Minneapolis.

Yet in December 2024, Sorenson told Forum News Service Miller was not considered a suspect in the Reker sisters’ case, claiming there was no known connection at the time.

Miller was living in Pine City, Minnesota, at the time of the Reker sisters’ deaths and Schlais’ murder.

“Jon Miller is not a suspect in our homicide investigations currently,” Sorenson said. “We are aware of the Dunn County case and information that has been released. Currently we don’t have any information that puts Miller in our area in 1974, but that could change as information is learned.”

Sorenson did, however, say the Stearns County Sheriff’s Office is working with Ramapo College on unsolved cases — and any possible DNA extracted from evidence will be tested against all known offenders in the area.

“If we are able to get a DNA profile that we can’t account for as belonging to the victims, we will test it against as many profiles as we can,” he said. “I can not say specific people currently.”

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She was a mom of 2 when her body was discovered in a 7-11 storage room. The case remains cold

Trisha Taurinskas — Fri, 07 Feb 2025 15:55:00 GMT

MOUNDS VIEW, Minn. — Toni Monette was one month into her management training program at a Mounds View convenience store when her body was discovered by a co-worker in the early morning hours of on March 25, 1981.

The 27-year-old was working the night shift when a co-worker went to clock in for the early morning shift at 4:30 a.m. That’s when the coworker saw Monette’s body in the 7-11’s back storage room.

Monette had suffered at least 10 stab wounds — and was no longer breathing.

An investigation was immediately launched, and responding officers noted the motive did not appear to be burglary as the cash register remained untouched. Initial reports also indicated Monette had not been sexually assaulted.

The location of Monette’s body –- in the back storage room –- raised questions for investigators. She was the only person working in the store at the time, leaving the question: Why did she leave her post at the cash register?

There appeared to be two possibilities. She either entered the back room willingly, possibly to use the restroom or retrieve an item, when an unknown assailant took advantage of her position away from windows and public access.

Or, she was forced into the back room.

Cashier receipts showed the last transaction at the store occurred at 3:10 a.m., according to newspaper archives.

Names of possible suspects were floated in the early days of the investigation. Yet more than four decades later, her case remains cold, and the Mounds View Police Department continues to ask the public to come forward with any possible information.

Possible suspect

One month after Monette’s body was discovered, Mounds View police and the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension homed in on a potential suspect: A man who had escaped from Anoka State Hospital, a nearby treatment facility for the mentally ill.

The patient had a known history of violent criminal activity, according to an April 21, 1981 edition of the Minneapolis Star.

He was on the loose at the time of Monette’s slaying, and was picked up a few days later on foot near Minneapolis.

The patient had a pack of cigarettes and a screwdriver in his possession. When he was picked up, he asked law enforcement officers what the punishment could be for committing violent crimes under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

An letter allegedly written by the patient, according to the Minneapolis Star, included vague information that could be interpreted as a confession for Monette’s slaying.

The same letter also included language that led investigators to believe he could have been responsible for the slaying of Mary Steinhart, who was found stabbed to death in her Minneapolis apartment on Nov. 25, 1980.

Yet just as quickly as the potential suspect materialized, investigators dropped the patient as a possible assailant in both cases.

At the time of Steinhart’s death, the patient was hospitalized at Anoka State Hospital. That ruled him out of the Steinhart murder.

Investigators learned in 2012 that advancements in DNA technology proved their theory true, as an arrest — leading to a conviction — was made. The DNA discovered under Steinhart’s fingernails matched with Robert Skogstad of Edgerton, Kan., who pleaded guilty to her murder in 2018.

It’s not clear why investigators dropped the patient as a suspect in Monette’s case. It’s also not clear whether investigators discovered any signs of secondary DNA at Monette’s crime scene that could potentially be used to find her killer.

Monette's sister told the Minneapolis Star in 1981 that pools of blood were discovered near her sister's body, although that information has not been confirmed by law enforcement.

The Mounds View Police Department would not respond to Forum News Service for questions related to Monette’s case.

It is not clear whether DNA was obtained from Monette’s crime scene.

Mother, daughter, friend

Monette married young at 18 years old in 1973 to her high school sweetheart, roughly two years after their first child was born.

Monette gave birth to another child in 1974. By 1976, the couple had divorced.

She went on to attend St. Theresa’s College in Winona, Minn., for business. She returned to her hometown of Minneapolis, where she lived with her parents and children at the time of her slaying.

“She worked for me. It doesn’t take long to get to know someone when you work closely with them, “ Mike McDermott, who was the 7-11 zone manager for Minnesota told the Minneapolis Star on April 2, 1981. “She was as nice a person as you could ask for, and she was on her way up.”

Anyone with information on Monette’s slaying is asked to call the BCA tipline at BCA Tip Line 1.877.996.6222
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Her body was found in a gravel pit in 1984. Investigators think they know who did it

Trisha Taurinskas — Sat, 01 Feb 2025 15:25:00 GMT

ROCK COUNTY, Minn. – Roughly 40 years have gone by, yet investigators are no closer to answers in the brutal slaying of 22-year-old Kelly Robinson, whose body was discovered floating in a pond near a Luverne, Minn. gravel pit.

“I know very few details on the case,” Rock County Sheriff Evan Verbrugge told Forum News Service in a recent statement. “No one in this office was working here when this occurred."

The reason Robinson’s case fell to the wayside isn’t entirely clear.

Her case was featured in the 2008 Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension cold case playing card initiative, and her sister has remained an avid advocate.

Newspaper archives from the years following her death indicate law enforcement homed in on a Sioux Falls man who was already serving a 200-year rape sentence, and was known to be a repeat offender.

The circumstantial evidence seemed to line up.

Robinson disappeared from Sioux Falls just days before she was discovered — and the convicted rapist’s wife told investigators she saw cockleburs, which were prevalent in the area Robinson’s body was found, on his clothes.

Injuries inflicted on Robinson’s head were also consistent with the convicted rapist’s mode of operation — and the man was living in Sioux Falls at the time Robinson went missing, and was killed.

All of this wasn't enough to warrant charges, though. And it seems as though investigators left it at that.

“They believe they know who it is but just don’t have the DNA,” Verbrugge told the Argus-Leader in 2007.

The assumption of his guilt isn't enough for Robinson’s family, though.

In a 1997 edition of the Argus Leader, her sister, Kathy Moller, told investigators she ultimately wants the answer to this question: What happened to Robinson?

“All I want is to know what happened, and why it happened,” Moller told the newspaper in 1997. “That could settle this for us finally. Just why. That’s all I want to know.”

When she was found

Robinson was first spotted by a young boy out for a hike with his family on Memorial Day of 1984.

Her body was seen floating in the water, roughly 20 feet from the shore.

The initial autopsy stated Robinson died by drowning, yet also indicated sexual assault could not be confirmed.

That changed in the weeks following the discovery of her body, when archived news stories indicate investigators confirmed she was likely physically and sexually assaulted before her death.

New information from the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension states Robinson likely died from asphyxiation.

Foul play has been suspected from the start.

Her shoes were scattered somewhat far away from one another near the shoreline of the pond. Defensive wounds were discovered on her hands — and abrasions were found around her neck.

She had no clothes under her jacket or jeans, according to a 1984 Associated Press story in The Forum.

Initial reports also indicate there was a spot of tall grass that seemed to have been patted down, allegedly an area where an attack could have taken place.

Unanswered questions

A multiple sclerosis diagnosis left Robinson unable to drive — and she had no ties to Luverne, Minn.

Her lack of familiarity with the Luverne area cast doubt on the explanation that she simply ran into trouble while on a visit to the small southwestern town.

“I think my sister was murdered,” Moller told the Associated Press in 1984. “I don’t think it was an accident, no I don’t,”

In order to access the pond near the gravel pit, a person would have had to walk through 100 yards of rugged terrain, according to then-Rock County attorney Tim Connell.

“The multiple sclerosis, after getting into the investigation, talking with relatives, talking with friends, it appears very unlikely that she could have walked back there and gone through the type of terrain on her own without help from someone and without maybe even being carried at different points,” Connell told the Associated Press, according to a 1984 edition of The Forum.

At least two witnesses told investigators in the first days of the investigation that they believed they saw Robinson get into a vehicle resembling a Ford Torino outside of the Frontier Bar in Sioux Falls.

Despite the unanswered questions, Robinson’s case has gone cold. Those working in law enforcement in the jurisdiction where she was found no longer know about Robinson’s slaying.

“I might be the only person in this office that even knows the name,” Verbrugge told Forum News Service.

If you have any information about Robinson’s case, contact the Minnesota BCA Tip Line at 877-996- 6222.
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