Nonfiction

9 “Forensic Files” Episodes That Aren’t About Murder

Forensic Files proudly advertises its standing as the longest-running true-crime series on TV. Originally narrated by the magnificent Peter Thomas, the series serves up perfect twenty-minute stories of crime and justice.

But not all the episodes focus on murder, or even crimes. A good portion of the early-season episodes focused on mysteries beyond the scope of human justice.

Below are 9 episodes from Seasons 1, 2, and 3 that actually didn’t feature murder:

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“The Girls Are Gone” Leaves Us Wondering: “Where Are the Adults?”

The Girls Are Gone: The True Story of Two Sisters Who Vanished, the Father Who Kept Searching, and the Adults Who Conspired To Keep the Truth Hidden
Michael Brodkorb and Allison Mann
Wise Ink Creative Publishing
October 2018
335 Pages, with Notes

***I don’t normally do trigger warnings, but this one will be hard on survivors of childhood abuse.***

The Girls Are Gone Front Cover

Provided by the publisher.

Parental Alienation: The Unaddressed Abuse

When I agreed to review The Girls Are Gone, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I had no prior knowledge of the crime it portrayed–the 944-day disappearance of Samantha and Gianna Rucki in the midst of their parents’ bitter divorce–and I had no idea just how wrenching the details of the crime would be.

This is not a book that focuses on gory or gruesome details of crime scenes. In fact, this is the rare story of abduction that has a happy ending. And we know that ending from the very start–this is not a “who dunnit?”

What this book by Mr. Brodkorb and Ms. Mann is–is a forensic accounting of family dissolution. Much of the book is taken directly from court transcripts and media reports, giving an unvarnished look at the rather unsavory antagonists in this story.

David Rucki, a Minnesota resident,  found himself defrauded, deceived, and betrayed by his then-wife of twenty years, Sandra Grzzini-Rucki. Without his knowledge, she divorced him, stole his assets, and began a ruthless campaign to take their five children from him by slandering him and manipulating their children.

Ms. Mann’s involvement in the case began as a paralegal for the firm representing Mr. Rucki. Mr. Brodkorb became involved later on, as a journalist covering the case, and who eventually helped along its resolution. Both did so under a barrage of threats, vexatious and frivolous legal challenges, and an all-out smear campaign.

AllisonMannFullSize

Ms. Mann. Photo provided by publisher.

 

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Mr. Brodkorb. Photo provided by the author.

I was unaware of “parental alienation” before I read this book. I learned that parental alienation is a manipulation of children against one parent by the other, often in the context of a custody dispute. In the book, the courts described Grazzini-Rucki’s behavior–attempts to obstruct court proceedings and put false claims of abuse in her five children’s mouths–as abusive because it attempted to deprive her children of a parent.

This culminated in her absconding with her two oldest daughters and leaving them in the care of “Bible-based” caretakers on a remote ranch for the next three years.

So, Where Are the Adults?

Grazzini-Rucki was assisted by a ragtag army of ‘activists’ and ‘bloggers’ who are convinced that family courts infringe on….something or other. The book suggests some of this vigilante army is inspired by conservative Christian beliefs in the sanctity of the family.

Because nothing says ‘family values’ like parental abduction.

It is this army of vigilantes that has been harassing Mr. Brodkorb and Ms. Mann up to this very day, as of November 2018. On their website, Missing in Minnesota, the pair detail the latest attempts of the vigilantes to harass Mr. Brodkorb’s wife and minor children.

We are left wondering which of these characters is mad or bad–which of them are mentally unwell and which of them are using the unwell ones.

Perhaps then this is why the book relies so heavily on court transcripts, which sometimes makes the narrative drag.–with a horde of litigation-happy convicted felons out to get you, the most blunt version of the truth is your best defense.

Summing Up

This is a difficult book to read.

Its content is heavy. At times, the narrative is weighed down by the inclusion of court records.

But the court records are only annoying because one wants to know what happens next. Desperately wants.

I agree with the authors: this is a story that needed to be told.

4/5 stars: A solid book, despite pacing flaws. Looking forward to more from the authors.
2/5 ‘fraidy cats: This same abuse scenario–coming to a family court near you.

3/5 ick-factor: Disgusting, aiding-and-abetting human beings

Well, That Was Overrated: “Devil in the White City”

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America
Erik Larson
447 pages, with notes
Vintage Books
2003

I don’t get it.

I just don’t get it.

Why does everyone love this book?

Why has it been on my reading list since I saw it on my dad’s nightstand in the sixth grade?

How did an author this good produce a book this “meh?”

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You Know You’re a Grad Student When…Vol. 1

You know you’re a grad student when….

…you can’t stand to write a book review for your blog because that’s what you do all day and you love it but it’s also consuming your soul for all the class to see.

…you write for your blog as a “break” from school, because you need that little, wilting bit of joy in your day.

…yet you still like to complain about how school leaves no time for your blog, despite the blog eating up what your good, rational, ex-valedictorian side knows is supposed to be school time.

You know you’re a grad student when…

….you envy the undergrads for their ability to do decent work past midnight.

….you begin to realize one one-thousandth the pain your sleep-deprived parents must have felt about your screaming, crying baby self as you scream and cry over your baby: your thesis.

…you, the mature adult, finally reject the sleep-study binary and turn in early because your work would be poop, anyhow.

And, finally, you know you’re a grad student when…

…you reach for your apartment key when unlocking the department office door.

…you then begin using the department key when trying to unlock your apartment.

…you might as well just move into the department because you live there anyhow and the rent would be free.

 

Nightmare on Peach Street: Reviewing “Evil Genius”

Evil Genius: The True Story of America’s Most Diabolical Bank Heist
A Netflix Original, 2018
Four Parts
Rated TV-MA
Directed by Trey Borzillieri and Barbara Schroeder
Written by Barbara Schroeder

A few months ago, I was searching for a documentary on a case I knew only as “the Pizza Bomber” and was surprised I could find nothing aside from some local news clips saying the mastermind had died in prison. Shortly, Evil Genius would come to fill the void.

The good and the bad of this series can both be summarized in one word: understatement.

baked pizza on top of black surface near filled glass tankard

Photo by Fancycrave.com on Pexels.com

The good of the filmmakers’ understatement is that allows the horror of the events to speak for itself.

In August 2003, pizza deliveryman Brian Wells died on live TV when a bomb strapped to his neck went off. He had claimed that he had been kidnapped at gunpoint and forced into a bomb-holding collar before being sent on a bank heist/hellish scavenger hunt. His body suffered further indignities in death; authorities decapitated him rather than risk damaging  evidence: the collar that held the bomb.

This is all we know for sure, Evil Genius tells us, and it is horrible. While intriguing, the series cannot be called “entertaining” as much as “edifying.” This is an exploration of suffering and evil, and that alone. No glitz or unnecessary gore.

The understatement of the series also allows viewers to inhabit the uncertainties of the crime and the ambiguities of the suspects. The main question the series poses, without ever fully resolving to my satisfaction, is as to whether Mr. Wells was, as he claimed, kidnapped and forced to rob the bank. The alternative is that he was a double-crossed participant in a criminal ring headed by Marjorie Diehl-Armstrong, a woman as brilliant as she was disturbed. The question as to whether Diehl-Armstrong, the titular “evil genius” was mad, bad, or some combination of both is another ambiguity that the four-part series explores.

The understatement and suggestion can bog down the series. With each episode clocking in at about forty-five minutes, the series felt twice as long. There is a lot of information to process. While the filmmakers to present all the evidence to preserve the ambiguity of the situation, the series would have benefited from some heavy-duty pruning.

 

3/5 stars: A good series hobbled by serious pacing issues.
2/5 ‘fraidy cats: Evil acts, but nothing that will creep up on you at night.
2/5 ick-factor: Unsparing description of postmortem mutilation and mistreatment

Photo Essay: Weekend Nor’easter

7 March 18
Norfolk County
Massachusetts

Currently I’m inside at my desk, listening to the rain fall as this new storm moves across my neighborhood and into Boston. No snow, so far. Just a day of rain.

I’m thankful it’s quiet, because I nearly died in the last Nor’easter, which blew through Friday into Saturday, spawning confusion, panic, and #windmaggedon.

As I never tire of harping on, I grew up in Texas. I’ve lived through hurricanes, the worst of them being Ike. I’ve lived through two weeks of late Houston summer with no air-conditioning in the wake of said hurricane. (I know, I know, first world problems).

I fulfilled my childhood goal of becoming a storm chaser when I nearly drove into a tornado crossing I-10 somewhere between El Paso and San Antonio. It came at us we didn’t go to it.

Easter weekend one year I spent huddled under the staircase with my sister as the sky turned green. The door into the garage was ripped from its hinges and thrown across the yard.

New England weather doesn’t scare me.

Usually.

Polar vortex? Chilly.

Nine feet of snow in five weeks? Impressive.

Whatever fresh hell came through town last weekend? Utterly terrifying.
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