This week's episode deals with disturbing themes of child sexual assault. Parental discretion is advised. It was still dark out when Joe Gosh knocked quietly on his brother Johnny's bedroom door sometime around five thirty am. Joe waited patiently until Johnny's weary reply came back finally from the other side. It was Sunday, September fifth, nineteen eighty two, and like every Sunday for the last year, twelve year old Johnny Gosh had a job to do, delivering papers for the Des
Moines Register and Tribune. Ordinarily, Johnny's father, John Senior liked to accompany him on his rounds, but since he couldn't join him that morning, Johnny had asked his brother to make sure he got up in time With his job complete. Joe tapped the door again in response, and then swiftly
headed off to work. It was roughly thirty minutes later when the Goshes neighbor Lawrence Headlin heard the familiar creak of Johnny's red newspaper wagon being pulled through the back of his garden toward Ashworth Road that ran past the back of his house. Headlin and the Gauches lived on forty fifth Street, in a quiet, affluent area of West den Moyne characterized by expensive houses and large, finally manicured lawns.
From there, it was just a short three block walk east to the corner of Ashworth and forty second Street, where Johnny's stack of papers were waiting for him. The paper round had been Johnny's own idea to help toward the purchase of an off road bike so he could ride out to the parks at the weekend with his
older brothers, whom he idolized. He was a diligent and dependable worker who early on in the job had even won a sales competition, which is why it was especially strange when a call came through to the gosh family home around seven forty five am from a disgruntled customer demanding to know where his Sunday paper was. Not knowing himself, the concerned John Senior, who took the call, promptly hung
up the phone and called out to his son. When there was no reply, he made a quick dash upstairs to check if he was in his bedroom, but there was no one there. Just then, John heard the gentle pitapata of the family's small hazel nut dash hound Gretchen and went downstairs to find her ambling about the kitchen, trailing a lead that was still clipped to her call. John called out for his son again, to no avail. The dog, it seemed, had come back all on her own.
Disconcerted by the dog's reappearance, John quickly grabbed his coat and hurried out to look for his son. At the top of their short road, John rounded the corner onto Mark Court Lane, where at the far eastern end he spotted Johnny's paper wagon, seemingly left abandoned on the pavement. When he finally caught up to it, he saw it was still stuffed with undelivered papers, but Johnny was nowhere
to be seen. Perhaps he was just helping another deliverer somewhere, or he'd somehow lost Gretchen and had gone off looking for her, thought John in about. He looked up and down the deserted street and back to the papers. With the sun now well and truly up, time was running out to get them delivered, and so John took the handle of the cart and set off down the street to deliver them. It was eight thirty am when he got home to find that Johnny had still yet to return.
With a rising panic and a parent's intuition, John told his wife Noreen to call the police immediately and ran straight back outside to look for his son. It was sometime around nine am when the officer arrived at the door, a little too unconcerned for Noreen and John's liking their child was missing. They said to the officer, however, there seemed only two realistic possibilities. Either he'd skipped work for whatever reason, or he'd run away entirely. Had he ever
run away before? He asked, a shocked gnawing didn't miss a beat. No, she said her son had never run away before. The officer made a quick note in his book. Then, after taking a look around Johnnie's bedroom, he set about getting statements from the four other paper deliverers who'd been working that morning's run with Johnnie, and gradually a picture of sorts began to emerge, both mundane and deeply troubling. You're listening to Unexplained and I'm Richard mc lean smith.
Each of the five newspaper deliverers had gathered at the corner of Ashworth Road and forty second Street to pick up their day's papers and greeted each other briefly before heading off on their respective rounds. Teenager Mike Seskis was just picking his papers up when he saw Johnny walking toward him along Ashworth Road, when all of a sudden, a two door, two tone blue and silver Ford Fairmount drove slowly past him, before stopping and backing up to him.
Mike saw Johnny talked at the driver for a moment before they drove off again, turning around to head back east along the road. John Rossi, the only adult paper carrier who was out that morning, was at the corner of Ashworth and forty Second when Johnny picked up his papers, and when moments later the Ford Fairmount returned, Rossie watched
on as Johnny approached the car again. According to Rossi, the drive of the vehicle, who was later described by another witness as being of stocky build with a mustache and receding dark hair, was strangely jacked up, as though he were on some kind of stimulant. Whatever it was, it was unusual for six am in the morning. As Rossi continued to watch, Johnny talked to the man. The boy then suddenly turned to him and waved him over to join them, asking if he could help give the
man some directions. Rossi then made his way over to help, only for the car to suddenly whip out away from him, complete a sharp you turn, and screech off up the road. A short time later, as Johnny made his way north up forty second Street with his wagon full of papers, Mike Sescus then claimed to have seen a man step from between two trees on the opposite side of the
road and cross over to where Johnny walking. Two brothers out delivering the paper together were then said to have walked past Johnny as he continued on his way north up forty second Street before turning west into Mark Court Lane. It was around then, at roughly six thirty am, when local resident P. J. Smith, who lived at the corner of Mark Court and forty second heard a car door
slam outside its window. Smith looked out his curtains to see what he described as a silver and black Ford Fairmount parked up on the street for a brief moment when it shot off suddenly into forty second Street without stopping at the stop sign, and then sped off up the road. And it was a short time after this that the two brothers coming back down forty second Street, passed the turn off to Mark Court Lane to see Johnny's red paper wagon parked up on the pavement, but
no sign of Johnny. Now a word from our sponsor Better Help. It can be tough to train your brain to stay in problem solving mode when faced with a challenge in life, but when you learn how to find your own solutions, there's no better feeling. A therapist can help you become a better problem solver, making it easy to accomplish your goals, no matter how big or small. Better Help is committed to facilitating great therapeutic matches, so they make it easy and free to change therapists if
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That's better h E. Lp dot com slash unexplained one zero. Along with the mysterious Ford Fairmount, a second car with the Warren County license plate was also apparently seen in the area at the time, driven by a man wearing
a baseball cap. For Captain Bob Rushing of the West des Moines Police Department, who reviewed the various statements from the numerous witnesses, none of it amounted to anything especially suspicious, and furthermore, there was no crime scene, no witnessed act of wrongdoing, and absolutely no evidence that anything sinister had
taken place. For the increasingly desperate Noreene and John Senior, Johnny had disappeared without a trace, which was all the evidence they needed to know that something terrible had taken place. That he'd been abducted, that he might have run away was simply unthinkable. Johnny, they said, was a kind and generous boy, someone who always wanted to find the right present for a friend if it was their birthday, and someone who was dedicated to a job that's entire purpose
was to save money. At the time, paper carriers were charged seventy five cents for every paper that wasn't delivered For Johnny, that would have meant forfeiting twenty seven dollars seventy five in total, far more than he was getting paid to do the job. However, as many in the West des Moines Police Department at the time felt it was simply unheard of that in such a peaceful and affluent area someone might drive into it and snatch a
child from the street. As far as they were concerned, Johnny was simply missing and would most likely return before long. Thanks to Noreen and John's insistence, however, the police eventually agreed to mount a search for the boy. By Sunday afternoon, roughly thirty officers pulled in from the Polk County Sheriff's office, Iowa Highway Patrol, as well as off and on duty Des Moines police were out looking for him and throughout
the day. As news of Johnny's disappearance began to spread through the neighborhood, they were joined by dozens of others from friends and family to concerned neighbors, and soon the media began to pick up the story too, imploring anybody to be on the lookout for a twelve year old boy described as being white, five foot seven inches tall, weighing roughly one hundred and forty pounds, who was last seen wearing a white T shirt, blue shorts, and black sandals,
and carrying a bright yellow newspaper satchel. But by the end of that first day, no trace of Johnny was found. The following day, a terrified and bleary eyed Norine and John joined over a thousand volunteers at the West Des Moines police station to begin the second day of their search for Johnny. Being the Labor Day holiday, everyone from
young kids to the elderly joined up to help find him. Together, inching slowly over the land, endless lines of people trudged over thousands of acres through damp and nettle strewn parkland, batting away gnats and mosquitoes as they went, while others trawled the county's many ditches and roads side verges for any sign of the boy or his clothing. But once again,
no sign of Johnny was found. By Tuesday, September seventh, Johnny had been missing for forty eight hours, but still the police remained hopeful that he would soon turn up. The fact that no trace of him had been found seemed only to prove further to the police that he'd probably just run away. In the meantime, the Des Moines Register and Tribune put up an offer of five thousand dollars for any information leading to the discovery of Johnny's whereabouts.
Around this time, a photo fit likeness was made of the man who'd apparently asked Johnny for directions, but the police, concerned that it wasn't entirely accurate, decided not to release it. It was sometime on Tuesday afternoon that West Des Moines Police East Chief Orville Cooney, who was tasked with overseeing the search for Johnny, informed the press that his department had been contacted by fifty year old self described psychic
Greta Alexander. Although some detectives believed Cooney should be concentrating on facts alone rather than engaging so called psychics, Cooney preferred to keep an open mind, saying he was from the old school and would listen to anything first before deciding what to do next. The charismatic Greta Alexander from Delavan, Illinois, had a long history of assisting the police on a
variety of cases. After hearing about her possible involvement in the Gosh case, Fort Dodge police Chief Don Hensley recalled how Alexander had helped his team find the body of eighteen year old Roger Haabab Junior and twenty year old Ruth Anne Phillips, who'd both drowned in separate accidents back in nineteen eighty. Alexander had been hooked up via a phone line to a team of divers who were searching
a quarry pit at the time. As one of the divers swam about on the surface, Alexander shouted down the phone for the diver to stop immediately and dive down into the water. A short time later, they returned to the surface holding the body of Rogerhabab. Hensley, who described the incident as being real spooky, said that Alexander had
been right with about ninety percent of her suggestions. Polk County Deputy John Hempel, who in nineteen seventy seven was working the case of a missing postal worker, recalled how Alexander reveal to him not only that they would find the body in the Sailorville reservoir, but what condition it would be found in, and that three people would find
it together. Three months later, the woman's body was found in that same reservoir by three fishermen and former Johnston Police Chief Robert Brunk also praised Alexander for helping him find the body of Ramon de Virgilio, who'd been missing for six weeks at the time. Alexander had apparently guided a police officer to the precise spot where his body
was found. When asked by the press if Gretta Alexander thought Johnny Gosh was alive, West des Moines Police Chief Cooney paused for a moment before answering that he didn't want to comment. As it transpired, Alexander claimed that Gosh was still alive, having a apparently visualized him being kept sitting down somewhere against his will. Alexander told the press that it didn't appear good, but remained hopeful, and also
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on the App Store or Google Play. You'll even get five dollars worth of in game rewards when you reach level five. That's friends without the art Best Fiends. Wednesday arrived with still no sign of Johnny and no further clues as to his whereabouts and steadily. Wednesday turned to Thursday, and despite Greta Alexander's claims, no further news arrived. With Johnny now missing for longer than the requisite seventy two hours, the West Des Moines Police stepped up their efforts to
trace him. Cards featuring pictures of the two cars mentioned by the witnesses were sent out to all local law enforcement agencies and some neighboring states too, while friends, teachers, and classmates were interviewed in an effort to try and establish the boy's state of mind at the time. As for Noreen and John Senior, they were told to simply
sit tight and wait for more information. It was just over a week later, on Monday, September twentieth, when fourteen year old Shawn Jacobson left his home in Milford, Iowa, roughly two hundred miles north of the Goshes home in West Des Moines, to walk to school. Jacobson had spent the previous week at home, laid up with the flu, and had seemed eager to get outside and back to school.
Later that day, Jacobson's father, Raymond, received a call from the Milford school secretary to ask why his son had not shown up for his classes. It wasn't long after that that a pile of school books was found tucked under a lunch pail near a water filled gravel pit to the west of the town. The books were identified as Shorns. Over the next two days, three hundred people, including sixty of its fellow pupils, with support from sniffer dogs and a search plane, failed to find any sign
of the boy. The gravel pit was also dredged to no avail. Around about the same time, two teenage boys entered a service station in pipe Stone, Minnesota, about ninety miles northwest of Milford. Convinced there was something a little off about them, the service station attendant kept a close eye on the boys as they disappeared into the rest room,
before reappearing moments later, only to then hurriedly leave. When the attend went into the restroom after them, they found a scrap of paper left out by the sink with the words help, I've been kidnapped scrawled across it. After being examined by police, however, it was decided it was unrelated to Shawn Jacobson's disappearance. Gerald Shanahan, the chief of Iowa's Division of Criminal Investigation, who'd by then been brought in to help with the Johnny Gosh case, was also
shown a note. Sadly, the handwriting was no match for Johnny's either. It was early in the evening of Friday, February twenty fourth, four days after the Jacobson disappearance, that a cattle farmer whose cattle grazed a patch of land on an abandoned farm about six miles west of Salt Lake, fifteen miles northwest of where Jacobson was last seen alive, stepped into an old barn to grab some feed for the animals. Inside the shed was an old, unplugged and
long abandoned refrigerator. The farmer, Tom Underwood, later said he didn't know what had prompted him to open the refrigerator door, but when he did, he found the cold dead body of Seawan Jacobson crouched down inside it. Despite being fifteen miles from his hometown and being judged to have likely died the day he went missing, the autopsy conducted on
Shawn Jacobson found no indication of foul play. As a result, the fourteen year old death was judged to have been caused by asphyxiation after either accidentally shutting himself in the random refrigerator he found on a random farm that he'd likely never been to before, or he'd deliberately locked himself inside to end his life. A single set of footprints leading into the barn, thought of being Jacobsen's, seemed all but confirmed to police that he'd been alone when he died,
and the case was promptly closed. By early October, there was still no sign of twelve year old Johnny Gosh, nor any further evidence to help locate him, and despite Noreen and John's insistence that their son had been abducted, the police continued to resist their demand to escalate his case from being one of a simple missing person to
a potential victim of kidnapping. At some point, the Goshes were approached by a man named Kenneth Wooden, a child safety expert who often lectured on the subject Iowa State University. Like many would and couldn't help but be caught up in the Goshes story. But more than most, he felt compelled to reach out to Noreen and John. What he had to tell them would shake them to the corps. It seemed obvious to him that if Johnny had decided to run away that Sunday morning, there was no way
he would have taken the dog out with him. Clearly, as the Goshes had been insisting the whole time, their son had been kidnapped. More than that, for someone who had experience analyzing cases of child abduction and abuse, it was Wooden's belief that Johnny had likely been abducted by a pedophile. Back in the early nineteen eighties, Pedophilia was not a word that most people were familiar with, and it was one that understandably struck fear into Nawing and
John's hearts. Though they'd feared the worst before, this was something they'd yet to fully countenance. Despite the terrifying implications of what Wooden was saying, it was none the less reassuring to finally have someone with his type of experience on their side, and his next piece of advice would
prove invaluable for navigating the months to come. Whatever you have to do to keep the story alive, he told them, do it, because if you don't, law enforcement will move on with their lives and go on their merry way. And so the increasingly hopeless and desperate couple took it upon themselves to keep Johnny's case in the news. In one report, his mother, gnawing her tired and anguished face barely holding it together, turns to the camera and says, Johnny,
we love you. We're waiting for you to come back. We're doing everything in our power to get you back, and we're leaving the porch light on every night a teen solo hiker who was terrorized for days by unknown figures dressed in white. Two cops who quit their job at a local theater because of unexplained encounters with an alleged demon. An isolated forest in Canada where people keep turning up headless. These are just some of the strange, dark and mysterious stories you'll hear each week on the
Mister Balland podcast. In each episode, Mister Balland shares real life haunting accounts, like the case of Hailey Zeger, who disappeared from a hiking trail for fifty one hours. When search and rescuers finally found her and asked how she survived, she said simply that a friend helped her. She described as friend as four years old with black hair and brown eyes. This friend was initially dismissed until they realized that a girl had gone missing in that exact spot
twenty three years earlier and was never found. She was four years old with black hair and brown eyes. Hey Prime members listened to the Amazon Music exclusive podcast Missed the ball In podcast Strange, dark and mysterious stories download the app to day Soon reported sightings of Johnny began to flood in from all over the country, including the apparent sighting by one woman in Oklahoma of a young boy who she claimed begged her for help before being
swiftly dragged off into a car by two men. None of it came to anything, but Noreen and john would
not let up. Now convinced that Johnny had been taken by a pedophile or to be sold to a pedophile ring for use in child pornography, they urged police Chief or Volconey to do more for their son, imploring him to bring in the FBI and widen the search, but Cooney continued to resist their demands, and soon many in the force began to grow tired of the Goshes, In particular Norene, apparent desperate to find her missing son, who
many felt was too pushy in her approach. Some even asked to be removed from the case so they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. The couple were referred to as loons by some in the FBI, and Cooney himself was quoted as saying, I really don't give a damn what nor In Gosh has to say. I really don't give a damn what she thinks. As a result, public opinion soon turned again them two, and before long
Johnny's case had drifted out of the news. Feeling abandoned by the police and utterly helpless, the Goshes hired their own private detectives at a rate of two hundred dollars a day to keep the search for Johnny alive or the while to help deal with it all, the couple turned their attention to the specifics of the alleged crime and doing what they could to raise awareness of the
dangers that potential pedophiles could pose to children. In time, the goshes tireless efforts led to the enacting of a new law named in honor of their son, which compelled police to search for missing children as soon as they reported missing, rather than wait seventy two hours before considering
it a possible crime. In the summer of nineteen eighty three, eighteen offers made allegations against police Chief Orvale Cooney, accusing him of racism and numerous counts of corruption, from fixing tickets for friends to interfering with an investigation into his
own son. Cooney resigned from the fourth six months later. Sadly, for Noreen and John Cooney's departure did little to alter the overriding sense among the West Des Moines police that Johnny was far more likely to run away than being kidnapped. After all, why would people go around abducting children from street corners when they could much more easily prey on the homeless and drug addicts, they reasoned. And still, the sightings of Johnny by then from all across America continued
to come in. By nineteen eighty four, there were twelve separate apparent sightings of him in Florida alone. Each time a sighting was made, the gosh's private detectives would rush to the location, but would always be too late to pick up any meaningful leads. One night in February nineteen eighty four, Noreene claimed she received three phone calls from
a boy she was convinced was Johnny. The boy, who she claimed seemed to be drunk or drugged, made little sense, and the calls were deemed too short to be traceable. It was just after five am on the morning of Sunday, August twelfth, nineteen eighty four, when thirteen year old Eugene Martin, another Des Moines Register and Tribune newspaper deliverer left his home in South Des Moines, about a twenty minute drive from where Johnny Gosh had last been seen two years before,
to begin his newspaper round. At some point around six am, Eugene's route manager began receiving calls from irritated customers demanding to know where then newspapers were. Having never had any trouble from Eugene before, the confused manager apologized profusely to his customers, then set out to look for the boy.
It had just gone six to fifteen am when the manager arrived at the corner of Southwest fourteenth and high View Street to find Eugene's paper sack with ten undelivered newspapers poking out of it, seemingly abandoned on the pavement, and Eugene Martin was nowhere to be found. You've been listening to Unexplained Season six, episode twenty five Once There Was Away, Part one. Part two will be released next Friday, November eleventh. If you enjoy Unexplained and would like to
help supporters, you can now do so via Patreon. To receive access to add free episodes, just go to patron dot com Forward slash Unexplained Pod to sign up. Unexplained, the book and audiobook, featuring ten stories that have never before been covered on the show, is now available to buy worldwide. You can purchase through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Waterstones, among other bookstores. All elements of Unexplained, including the show's music, are produced by me Richard McClain smith.
Please subscribe and rate the show wherever you listen to podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own you'd like to share. You can reach us online at Unexplained podcast dot com, or Twitter at Unexplained Pod and face book at Facebook dot com, forward slash Unexplained Podcast