Halloween, that time of year when, for those in the northern hemisphere, the air is full of mischief and the skies have darkened so perceptibly that we can almost feel the quickening hand of winter laying ice upon our necks. Some of us celebrate by going trick or treating with our kids. Others might dress up in elaborate fancy dress or in the image of whatever current bogey man has
gripped the zeitgeist to shock our friends at parties. More still will probably end up sitting at home watching scary movies, listening to podcasts, or, for the braver among us, participating in a seance or two. It's the time of year when the veil between this world and the next is said to be at its thinnest, when spirits walk the earth, displaced and restless, to knock on doors and reminders of
their absence. Alloween or All Hallows Eve, has its roots in the ancient Celtic festival of Sowin, a feast marking the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter. As part of the festival, offerings of food and drink were left out to honor and appease the dead, ensuring their good will and protection through the dark months ahead. Strict adherence to the ritual was paramount lest the ace she or fairy folk punish the human population of the
land with visitations, spoiled yields, disappearances, and even death. The act of dressing up or guising is thought to have begun more than two thousand years ago, with people adorning animal hides and garish masks in an effort to blend in with any malevolent spirits that might appear from the other world. The idea being that if the spirits couldn't see the human underneath the disguise, they would simply let
them be. Should you fail to dress up or maintain the disguise at just the wrong moment, however, there was no telling just what might happen. You're listening to Unexplained and I'm Richard McLean Smith. It was Halloween night in two thousand and one. In the early hours of November one, Down at the Player's Nightclub in State College, Pennsylvania, a
Halloween party was in full swing. The club on West College Avenue, located just a stone's throw from the central campus, was a popular hangout for college kids from Penn State University. Among the crowd of revelers that night, dying up dance floor with a warm, alcoholic buzz with twenty one year old seniors Stacy Pack, Lisa Kim, and Hyung Jong Song,
also known as Cindy the Trio. Like most of everyone else there were in fancy dress for the occasion, Cindy had opted for a simple bunny costume, complete with ears and bushy tail. All three young women had met through the close knit Korean Undergraduate Student Association and had soon become inseparable. The Player's nightclub was one of their favorite hangouts. They could often be found there most Thursday nights, as Cindy wasn't working her weekly shift at the university's laptop library.
That night had been an especially fun occasion for them. It wasn't just the buzz of it being Halloween and how such nights seemed to charge the air with just that little bit more electricity. It was Cindy herself, or rather the old Cindy. For the best part of a month, Cindy had been carrying the weight of a broken heart. She and her ex had been seeing each other for six months and even shed an apartment together before he
abruptly called the whole thing off and moved out. For the Korean student, so far from home with no close family to turn to, it had been a difficult few weeks, but slowly the bright smile for which she had become renowned on campus was returning. That night, down at the Player's nightclub, it seemed as though she was finally back
to her usual self. Shortly before two a m. With the night club about to close, Stacy suggested they head to another party at a friend's place in the university's park Hill apartment complex, a short drive away along East Beaver Avenue. The three young women, joined by another friend, emerged from the club moments later and stepped out into the chill autumn air up above a large waxing gibbus dissolved intermittently between passing clouds as they clambered into Stacy's car.
The party at park Hill was petering out by the time Cindy and her friends arrived. After another hour or so, they decided to call it a night. Around three thirty am. Stacy, Lisa, and Cindy stepped back out into the chilly morning air, bundled back into Stacy's car, and set off towards Cindy's apartment. As the car made its way through town, they passed the occasional eerily costumed straggler swaying drunkenly on the sidewalk,
like a lost extra from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But before long they were heading out beyond the crowded bars and well lit downtown streets, to where the roads grew quieter, the houses further apart. Inside the car, the girl sat in a kind of dreamy silence, half drunk, half tired, watching the spindly silhouettes of the trees as they passed, in that strange early morning calm that comes after hours of noise and dancing. The smell of smoke, cheap vodka,
and perfume hung in the air Up above. The moon seemed to follow them, sliding silently between drifting clouds, keeping pace over the rooftops and empty sidewalks. Finally, they arrived at Cindy's apartment, just off West Clinton Avenue. The College Park complex where Cindy lived was purpose built student accommodation, comprising a dozen or so buildings, each with about twelve apartments, and so A light, misty rain was falling as they pulled up Stacy and Lisa said their goodbyes to Cindy
as she stepped out of the car. The complex was deadly silent, with not another soul in sight as they waved her off. They watched on for a moment as she drew closer to her door, Then, eager to get to bed themselves, Stacy started up the engine and drove off. It was sometime in the afternoon the following day that Yong Chu Kim, also known as Katherine, Cindy Song's flatmate, returned home. Katherine had missed the previous night's celebrations, having
been away in Philadelphia. She and Cindy had made plans to hang out that afternoon, and she was looking forward to catching up on any gossip from the party. When Catherine arrived, she found the front door locked from the outside, so it wasn't a huge surprise to find no sign of Cindy inside, But as the afternoon turned to evening, Cindy was still yet to appear. Text to Cindy's phone went unanswered, but Catherine wasn't immediately concerned. There were countless
places she could have been. Perhaps she'd hooked up with someone the night before, she thought, or had picked up a last minute shift at one of her two jobs, but when there was still no sign of her the following morning, Catherine began to worry. Weirdly, Stacy and Lisa hadn't heard from them either, since they'd last seen her
two nights before. It was around this time that Catherine spotted the fake eyelashes Cindy had warned for Halloween on her bedside table, suggesting she had at least made it back inside the apartment after Stacy dropped her off. Catherine also found a bag that Cindy had used that night, containing a change of clothes and something else too, her mobile phone. It had been in the apartment the whole time that Catherine had been trying to contact her. Now
Cyndy's friends were really starting to panic. Calls were made to the laptop library and the Korean restaurant where Cindy also worked. Her ex boyfriend and Cindy's aunt, Young Kim, who lived in Virginia, were also contacted, but neither had spoken to her recently. It appeared incredibly that at some point, after being dropped off by Stacy and her flatmate, returning the following day, she had completely vanished off the face
of the earth. When there was still no word from her by the morning of Sunday, November fourth, Stacy contacted the Ferguson Township Police Department and reported Cindy missing. Yon Jong Song or Cindy, who like many of her Korean friends, took an anglicized name to ease her transition into America, was born and raised in Seoul. After moving to the United States in the mid nineteen nineties, she lived with
her aunt Young Kim in Springfield, Virginia. After graduating high school, she enrolled at Pennsylvania State University, where she majored for a bachelor's degree in integrative arts. Her ambition must to one day be a successful graphic and fashion designer. Though things had been hard initially moving to a whole new country and culture, by two thousand and one America felt
very much like a second home. She had a close knit circle of friends and an active social life, and often took to her personal penn State web page to share her various loves like Van Goch and Ben and Jerry ice cream, or to proudly promote things that her friends had been working on. She enjoyed running and swimming, but disliked fakers and selfish people. Fun, she said, was
anything except hardcore drugs. When police first arrived at her apartment to investigate, they began by questioning her friends about her last known movements. All shared what they knew, which in essence wasn't much. Cindy had been in good spirits that night, they said, Stacy had dropped her off at her apartment, and though she hadn't seen her enter the property, the fact they later found her fake eyelashes, bag and phone inside was clear evidence that she had made it home.
A more thorough inspection of the apartment revealed no signs of a struggle inside or outside. Nothing of Cindy's, as far as anyone could tell, appeared to be missing, except for her keys and wallet, which contained her ID and credit cards. Detective Brian Sprinkle, who led the case, wanted to keep an open mind, hoping that maybe she'd just left spontaneously for some time away, but certain details made
him wonder if she'd done something far more drastic. Cindy's friends said she'd been in good spirits the night she disappeared, but in reality things were a little more complicated. Although she'd been doing better in recent days, She'd also been taking medication and seeing a therapist to help get over her break up. Cindy's home in America outside of university was her aunt Young Kim's house in Springfield, Virginia. As her aunt quietly explained to the police, the last time
she'd seen Cindy, she seemed unusually quiet and distant. Cindy's mum, Benson, back in South Korea, who Cindy was much more open with than her aunt, was horrifying to learn that her daughter was missing. She too, recounted how devastated Cindy had seemed after the break up. Then police discovered this on Cindy's personal Penn State web page, written just a week before she disappeared. Sad but happy, crying but laughing, ugly but pretty, hungry but full, hurt but fine, weak but strong.
I pretend and this is me. Despite the mounting evidence that Cindy might have killed herself, in truth, the idea never really sat right. The more detective Sprinkle learned about her, the more out of character it seemed. She was studious and a reliable employer. The owner of the Sole Garden restaurant where Cindy worked part time as a server was
effusive about her dependability and work ethic. She even dropped in occasionally on her days off to spend time with the owner's young children and to do something without even leaving a note. It just didn't fit. When officers searched Cindy's apartment, they found tickets for a Britney Spears concert due the following week that she'd been hugely excited about. Pinned to her wall. Alongside that was a letter and resume she'd been working on for a graphic design internship
that she was hoping to get onto the following year. Perhaps, then wandered Detective Sprinkle, maybe she really had just simply run away and wanted to be alone for a short time. But as the days went by, that supposed alone time just got longer and longer, and Cindy didn't come back. To Detective Brian Sprinkle and many of his colleagues, it was beginning to look like something altogether different had happened. Across the road from Cindy's apartment was the twenty four
Hour Giant Supermarket. It was often used by students on a late night essay binge looking for refreshments, or indeed by anyone who might just be looking for snacks to stave off a hangover in the early hours of the morning. That Cindy appeared to have left the flat only with her wallet and keys could imply that she merely left to go to the store with the full intention of coming home immediately after. After all, what would she need her phone for on a quick dash to the shops
at five am in the morning. If this is what happened, there were only a few likely possibilities for what had happened. She'd been the victim of a hidden run that someone had tried to cover up, or she'd been deliberately attacked or abducted and possibly murdered. On her student web page, Cindy listed her strong qualities as creativity, responsibility, and her unbounding energy. Under weaknesses, she said that she was too gullible. Others agreed she had a tendency to naively assume the
best of everyone. Perhaps some wondered she'd been approached by someone on her way back from the supermarket asking for help, and Cindy had stopped to speak with them, only for them to then attack her. Either way, all speculation was useless. What the police needed was evidence something to point to a crime being committed. Just over a week after Cindy disappeared, the first search teams assembled outside Cindy's apartment block while the heavy hum of a police search helicopter buzzed overhead.
Numbering about twenty to thirty people, the team was compiled from members of the Ferguson Township Police, as well as Center County and Elk County Search and Rescue departments. They focused first on the wooded area and bike paths immediately to the west of Cindy's apartment, but eventually stretched across to Brier Green on the eastern edge of town. Teams worked methodically plodding along under colorless skies as they searched for a body, jewelry, clothing, bank cards, or anything else
belonging to Cindy. Search docs yanked at their leads, eagerly sniffing at whatever patch of undergrowth they could find. CCTV from the Giants Superstore was investigated, and Cindy's email and bank cards were monitored. Cindy's ex boyfriend and others were questioned over their possible involvements while all over town. Cindy's face with her characteristically bright smile peered out from posters and leaflets with requests for any information. They detailed Cindy's particulars.
Twenty one year old Asian female, black hair, brown eyes, height around five foot two, last seen in the early hours of November first, wearing a rabbit costume consisting of a pink sleeveless shirt with a rabbit imprinted on the front, a white tennis skirt with a cotton bunny tail attached to the back, brown sweded knee high boots, rabbit ears, and a red knee length hooded parker, but all of it was to no avail. The CCTV footage had already been taped over by the time the police got to it.
Cindy's e mail and bank carts remained inactive throughout. All potential suspects were eliminated, and the search teams found nothing. After three solid weeks of investigating, Detective Brian Sprinkle and the Ferguson Township Police Department had failed to find one single clue as to what might have happened to Cindy.
Due to complications with Cindy's father's health, it wasn't until late November that Cindy's mother Pensun and brother Kihor were finally able to fly out to the States to do what they could to help for Cindy's mother, especially already enduring a life away from her daughter on the other
side of the world. It's impossible to articulate the sadness she must have felt as she sat for the first time on her daughter's bed, surrounded by all her things, feeling for all the world as though she might step through the door at any minute. They were adrift on a sea of grief. Cindy's brother vowed that they would stay in town until Cindy's case was resolved. As November turned to December, the nightmare showed no sign of ending.
Around one thirty am in the morning of Friday, December seventh, police received an anonymous phone call from a woman claiming she had some vital information relating to Cindy's case. Police tracked the call back to a phone line located downtown on East College Avenue, but they never heard from the
caller again. Penn State University put up a twenty seven thousand dollar reward for any information that would lead to a breakthrough in the case, but as two thousand and one came to an end, no one came forward with anything useful for Cindy's family. The lack of movement in the case was devastating. After a further month of nothing, they conducted a press conference accusing Ferguson Township PD of fail to commit sufficient time and attention to Cindy's disappearance.
On New Year's Day two thousand and two, thirteen year old Alicia Kazakivich was abducted from her home in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. After a fevered search was mounted for her, involving fifty FBI agents, Alicia was eventually found alive three days later,
chained up at the home of her abductor. Cindy's family wanted to know why it was that the disappearance of Alicia, who was white, had merited such a profoundly different response to Cindy's disappearance, for whom it took the police a whole week before they began searching for her in earnest. Though Alysia was a minor compared to the more self reliant and autonomous twenty one year old Cindy, who had possible reasons to electively disappear, there was some considerable justification
to the anger. The police department's response was to cut off all communication with Cindy's family. Either way, none of it brought Cindy home. Then, on February thirteenth, the police received a possible tip off. It came from a woman in Philadelphia, nearly two hundred miles from where Cindy was last seen. The caller claimed she'd spotted someone that looked like Cindy in a car in the city's Chinatown district.
The young woman appeared distressed and even called out for help before the man she was with quickly intervened, telling the witness to get lost. According to investigators, however, the witness's story changed so many times following her initial testimony they couldn't verify her statements in any meaningful way. Several attempts were made to identify the man, who was described as having an olive or light brown skin complexion and
medium length hair, but nothing came of it. Detective Sprinkle described Cindy's disappearance as the most baffling case he'd ever been involved with. By May two thousand and two, he was at a complete loss and just about ready to accept any kind of help. Back in September, two thousand and one, nineteen year old Penn State student Ryan Buell
established the Penn State Paranormal Research Society. The twenty five member strong group had been in discussions with self described psychic Carla Barron about giving a talk to the organization when it occurred to Buell that maybe she could help the investigation. Detective Sprinkle felt he had nothing to lose. Carla Barron was based in Los Angeles, but had a connection with Pennsylvania, having graduated from lock Haven High School,
about forty miles north from where Cindy disappeared. With her own radio show, The Crystal Palace and regular appearances on MTV, Barron claimed to have assisted in over fifty criminal cases in Mexico and the United States, including the O. J. Simpson and John Bennet Ramsey cases. Over a number of phone calls with Detective Sprinkle in May, Barron made the startling claim that she'd made contact with Cindy's spirit. There
were three to four men involved. She'd said they'd loaded her into a vehicle with the intention of carrying out a sexual assault. It wasn't very long before she crossed over, she added solemnly. Over the next few weeks on the phone to Sprinkle, Barren relayed a series of visions she claimed to have regarding Cindy's disappearance. According to Baron, she'd seen the image of an Asian word carved into a tree in Two Deck Park, a small recreational ground right
next to Cindy's apartment complex. Another vision involved a wooded area and water, as well as some kind of electrical device lying close to a railroad crossing. She couldn't say what any of it meant exactly, only that all of it was linked to Cindy. In August, Sprinkle invited Baron to come down to State College to investigate the area for herself. Walking together through Two Deck Park, Carla found herself drawn to one of the trees at the park's periphery.
Moving closer to it, Detective Sprinkle felt the hares stand up on the back of his neck. An Asian word had been carved into it. Later, the pair made their way out to Curtain Village, the site of an old iron works nestled away on the banks of Bald Eagle Creek, about twenty miles north of State College. Although the works had closed down in the nineteen twenties, the vacated buildings remained Today, it's preserved as a kind of ghost town.
It was eerie enough out there in the pastoral silence, surrounded by the old furnace stack, gristmill, and the long abandoned grand iron Master's mansion house. Detective Sprinkle eyed it all suspiciously, wondering if this was where Cindy had been taken, or if her body might even still be there. Having found nothing untoward, Detective Sprinkle and Carla headed into the surrounding trees until they stumbled upon a railroad crossing, where right beside it was some kind of electrical device, just
as Carla claimed to have seen her visions. The detective was astounded, Though none of it led to anything concrete. At that point in time, Detective Sprinkle remained convinced that quote a good deal of the information Carla had provided would help them crack the case. On the twenty first of that month, Cindy's case was featured on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries, leading to another bump of public interest. A string of tips and apparent sightings followed, but once
again all of it came to nothing. Over time, with no solid leads to bring investigators any closer to finding an answer, interest in the case began to fade. It was late March two thousand and three, eighteen months since Cindy Song vanished into thin air, when Luzerne County Homicide to Teensive Lieutenant Gary Kapitano got a call out of
the blue from an old friend. The man was calling on behalf of his niece, Ellen Smarker, from Wilkes Barry, a town about one hundred and forty miles east of State College, who had fallen victim to a string of recent burglaries. He wanted to know if Detective Capitano could do him a favor and look into it. Happy to oblige, Capitano had called Ellen and asked if she had any idea who the perpetrators might be. She gave him two names, Hugo Celenski and Paul Weekly. Ellen had grown up with Hugo,
who had a string of prior charges of robbery. Paul Weekly was his flatmate. As it happened, Weekly was at that point in prison serving time for an unrelated robbery. It seemed reasonable to think there was a good chance he had also robbed Ellen's house, so Detective Capitano decided to pay him a visit. Weekly thankfully agreed to talk with him, alongside his attorney, Tom Cometta. Capitana was somewhat surprised when Weekly quickly informed him that he couldn't possibly
have robbed Ellen's house on the night in question. That night, he was wearing an electronic ankle bracelet while on federal probation, and records showed he was home at the time. Why then, thought the detective had. He agreed to speak to him, as weeakly explained, then he wanted to inform on the guys who actually did it, in the hope that his present sentence would get reduced. When Detective Capitana agreed to see what he could do, Weakley gave him two names,
Hugo Celenski and Patrick Russin. The detective duly noted them down, then got up to leave. Then Weekly's attorney called him back. Cap He said, there's more, sit down. What Poor Weekly told him next was almost too grotesque to believe. He claimed that Hugo Selenski had also murdered multiple people, possibly as many as sixteen, and that their bodies were buried
on Selenski's property in the nearby Kingston Township. Among the dead, Weekly set was a young woman he'd picked up from State College, a woman who'd been wearing bunny ears when she was abducted back in two thousand and one, Cindy Song. The very next day after his astonishing claim, Detective Capitano interviewed Poor Weekly more extensively. Weekly claimed that during the summer of two thousand and two, he'd seen Selenski's dog
carrying a dismembered human arm around in its mouth. He said he'd spotted the bodies of a woman and child in a well while working on Selensky's water system, and had seen bone fragments and a jawbone under the porch. But it was the story about Cindy's Song that particularly caught the investigator's attention. According to Weekly, Zelensky told him in April two thousand and two that he and a man named Michael Kokovsky had abducted a young woman from
State College, believing she was a sex worker. Krkovsky allegedly said he had its way with her and kept her at his Hunlock Creek home until she died. Weekly acclaimed Kokovsky had kept the bunny ears song was wearing as
part of her Halloween costume as a souvenir. Michael Krkovski was a pharmacist from Hunlock Creek who pleaded guilty to running a prescription drug rink that netted at least eight hundred thousand dollars and was about to be sentenced when he and his girlfriend Tammy Fassett were reported missing in men two thousand and two. They were both thirty seven
years old. Weekly informed police that Selensky had in fact murdered Kikovski and Facet, fearing they might lead the police to him after he allegedly discovered that Kokovsky had kept Cindy's bunny ears. The following morning, June fifth, a team of investigators, along with Paul Weekly, made the short journey along tree lined country lanes out to Hugo Selensky's seven
acre property on Mount Olivet Road. When they arrived, Selensky was preparing to host a graduation party for one of his sisters, with workmen setting up a tent for the occasion in the yard. They handed him a warrant to search his property. Selensky's face went pale as some officers took him inside for questioning Weekly proceeded to lead the others around the property, pointing out places where he claimed the bodies had been buried. The investigators began to dig.
It wasn't long before they found something. Located about twenty feet from a corner of the house, close to a well, were two sets of human remains in a shallow grave, their wrists still bound together with zip ties, and the excavation didn't stop there. Over the next few days, officials unearthed the badly charred remains of two more bodies, as Weekly continued to direct them around the property, pointing out
places where he claimed to have seen bones. According to him, Selensky had as many as twelve of his victims buried in the garden. Selenski's girlfriend, Christina Strom, to whom the property actually belonged, had lived there the entire time, with no idea whatsoever that she did so, surrounded by dead bodies. In the end, despite Weekly insistence there was more, after thirty eight days of digging, the police only succeeded in
finding five sets of remains. After DNA analysis, two were found to be pharmacist Michael Kokowski and its partner Tammy Fassett. Another two were identified as twenty nine year old Frank James and twenty three year old Addie assasss Keeler, alleged drug dealers who Selenski had apparently killed back in May two thousand and three before burning their bodies in a pit. Although the fifth body was impossible to identify, its DNA
was not a match for Cindy's. A short time after the gruesome discovery at Hugo Selenski's property, police searched Paul Weekley's home. On his computer, they found a slew of downloaded information about Cindy Song's disappearance from the Internet. It appeared that Weekly had researched the case thoroughly before electing to speak to the police about it. Detective Capitano knew that Weekly wanted to share information in the hope of reducing a prison sentence he was serving at the time.
What emerged over the next few weeks was an even more disturbing picture. Weekly, who first met Selensky in prison in the nineteen nineties, eventually admitted that it was in fact he who had plotted with Selenski to kidnap Kokovsky and his girlfriend Tammy, with the intention of extorting them for money. In the end they had killed them both. Weekly acknowledged under cross examination that he misled the authorities early in the investigation because he wanted to pin it
all on Selenski. My stories had a lot of holes in them, he said, I told numerous lies. On October sixth, two thousand and three, Hugo Selenski was charged with two counts of homicide in the deaths of James and Keeler, and was also eventually charged with killing Kokovsky and Facet two. However, it would take until January twenty fifteen, more than twelve years after the bodies were discovered, before Selenski finally stood trial.
Paul Weekly, forty six years old, by then, avoided a potential death sentence by pleading guilty to federal charges, having already been sentenced to life in prison in June two thousand and eight. In February twenty fifteen, Hugo Selenski was
sentenced to two consecutive life sentences. Despite the hollowness of Poor Weekly's accusation that Zelenski had been involved in Cindy Song's murder, Detective Brian Sprinkle and his team back in the Ferguson Township Police department remained haunted by his claims. Could there really be more bodies on Selenski's property just waiting to be uncovered? Might one of them be Cindy's.
In the end, investigators were never able to connect Hugo Selenski to Cindy's disappearance, As State Police Sergeant Stephen Byron, who was heavily involved in her investigation, put it, we looked at everything. We haven't uncovered one piece of evidence
to corroborate this. In October two thousand and four, shortly after Hugo Selenski and poor Weekly's arrests, frustrated at having come to yet another dead end, Detective Brian Sprinkle turned once more to self described psychic Carla barn This time, Detective Sprinkle and Carla agreed to let ABC News film her in action, almost exactly three years to the day.
Detective Sprinkle and ABC Primetimes John Kinyonis and his camera crew watched on silently as Carla Baron sat at a desk down at the Ferguson County Police Station and slowly laid out a set of tarot carts. Placed above the carts was a polaroid of Cindy's Song. Carla took a deep breath, then settled her mind. She's telling me she's in a different place now, she said. She now knows why this happened to her. Detective Sprinkle leaned in closer,
hoping for more details, but nothing came. Then Carla spoke into the air, Cindy, how did you lose your life? The others in the room held their breath as Carla appeared to be receiving more information. It was somebody obsessed with her, she said. Detective Sprinkle jumped in. Is it Zelensky or Kokowski? He said eagerly. Carla seemed to nod. They were at the helm. She said, they were orchestrating, but the main person she knew the person. Finally, Carla asked,
all right, Cindy, where are your remains? But no answer came. If you're listening to this episode on its release, it is twenty four years to the day that then twenty one year old Heyon Jong Song, also known as Cindy, disappeared without a trace. Today, twenty one binders remain in the Ferguson County Police Station archives containing all materials relevant to the case, one for each year of Cindy's life. Perhaps someday they might yet yield an answer to this
tragic and beguiling mystery. Until then, just what exactly happened to Cindy's song on that haunting Halloween night remains to this day unexplained. This episode was written by Richard mclin Smith and James Connor Patterson. Thank you as ever for listening Unexplained as an Avy Club Productions podcast created by Richard McClain Smith. All other elements of the podcast, including the music, are also produced by me Richard McLain Smith. Unexplained.
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