The Cleveland Strangler - Anthony Sowell

marchants of society, people whose absences unfortunately rarely made headlines. Then, in October of two thousand nine, a single escape led police to a house where a search quickly turned into a nightmare, with gruesome secrets hidden throughout the home, revealing years of violence that had unfolded behind an ordinary front door. The man responsible, Anthony Sewell, had committed the most prolific serial murder case in Cleveland's history, and soon he would

be known only as a deadly moniker. This is the story of the Cleveland Strangler.

the American team who got gold. There's a lot of pressure on the women's Canadian team to get that gold, so they looked a little disappointed on the.

hands tucked in their pockets for warmth. Most days even pass quietly, work errands, small conversations that don't last very long. Whatever it may be, one thing is certain. Life moves forward in ordinary pieces, each moment small enough to forget by the end of the day, and before you know it,

your entire surroundings have changed. You know, something like a tree that was once full of leaves, and in a blink of an eye you know it now is standing there bare No one knows which day will matter Like this, life simply moves on now. In this case, it was just another week another stretch of hours where people are focused on their own lives, trying to stay warm, but trying to get by, and you know, not thinking too

far ahead. Somewhere nearby in the autumn air in this story, a phone rang, someone was making a call for help, and suddenly, just like that, an ordinary day isn't ordinary anymore. All those small details, well, they seemed significant, and everything seemed like it changed. It was in East Cleveland, Ohio, in October twentieth of two thousand and nine. Someone had dialed nine to one pint one and reported that a woman outside a house on Imperial Avenue was laying on

the ground. She was injured, confused, and struggling to stay conscious. They said she'd fallen or even possibly jumped, from a second story window of the home. Police and paramedics were quickly dispatched to the scene, and when they arrived, with their flashing lights splashing across the surrounding homes, that neighborhood

quickly turned into a serious crime scene. The woman was badly hurt, she could barely speak, and with her body shaking from pain and shock, she tried to explain what had just happened inside the house behind her officers moved quickly, first focusing on her injuries, trying to understand whether this was an accident, an assault, or something else entirely. But the woman told them that she'd been inside the home with a man and at some point things turned violent,

so she jumped from the window. She said it was the only way she thought she could escape. Now, the house in question behind her looked ordinary enough, white siding, There's a narrow porch and a kind of aging three story home that just blended in with the older buildings in the neighborhood. Others were boarded up, some lived in. You know, they're all packed tightly close together. Now, officers had been called to this area before. Drug activity wasn't uncommon, arguments, assaults,

people coming and going at odd hours. It was all the kind of place where things happened, and most people kept moving, minding their own business. At the time, it looked just like another disturbing call in a city that saw way too many of these disturbing incidents. But what police didn't know was that the house at one two two h five Imperial Avenue had already been holding secrets for years. But before we dive down that rabbit hole, we first need to take a step back and talk

about a man named Anthony Edward Sewell. Now. Anthony was born on August nineteenth, nineteen fifty nine, and he grew up in East Cleveland, Ohio, and he came from a large family. The household he grew up in was crowded, chaotic, and, according to later accounts from some relatives, was deeply troubled too. Stories from family members described an environment filled with violence and abuse. As a teenager, Anthony eventually left that home

behind and he joined the United States Marine Corps. He enlisted in January of nineteen seventy eight at eighteen years old, and over the next seven years he served as an electrician, completing training at Paris Island and Camp I'm going to get this wrong, but I'm going to try Camp led you in before being stationed at multiple bases, including assignments

in Japan and Okinawa too. Now, his service records showed there was steady performance, There were commendments, there were deployment ribbons, and a discharge in January of nineteen eighty five. After leaving the military, Anthony returned to Ohio. He worked jobs from here and kept a low profile blending into the neighborhood that he lived in. But in nineteen eighty nine, the normal life that he seemed to be living, well, it all changed. That year, a young pregnant woman went

to Anthony's home. Now, according to court records, what began as a normal visit quickly turned violent when she tried to leave because Anthony, well, he refused to let her leave. Prosecutors later said that he restrained her, tying her hands and feet, gagging her so she couldn't call for help. And now, during this assault, he choked her with enough force that she later told police the feeling of her body going numb, and she believed she was going to die right then and there.

So as a result, officers conducted periodic like knock and talk visits to make sure that everything was good and to confirm he was living where he claimed to live so they can kind of keep track of him. But because he wasn't on parole or probation, they didn't have authority to enter his home without a warrant, so it was basically just talk to the front door check ins at the front door. They couldn't go beyond that.

in with everyone in the neighborhood. He worked factory jobs for a while before collecting unemployment and making money selling scrap metal. To most people around him, he was just another man trying to get by. But while the neighborhood saw someone friendly and familiar, the history behind him, the violent sex offender, the prison sentence, the assault, the all of it. That's what was the truth. It was a

facade hiding the truth. Now. The Mount Pleasant neighborhood, where he lived in Cleveland's East Side, wasn't a place where people stopped to ask too many questions, which have kind of already alluded to. By the late two thousands, the area was struggling pretty hard. Many homes were aging or abandoned, jobs were scarce, and drug activity was considered part of the daily life here. Crack cocaine, or crack as it's

typically called, move through neighborhoods openly. People drifted in and out, and friends, acquaintances, strangers were all looking for places to stay or away to get high. It was a kind of environment. Routines were per weren't exactly predictable, and disappearances didn't always trigger immediate alarms. It's a place with people living on the margins of society, and often they unfortunately

don't get the immediate attention for their disappearances that they should. Now, some women would go missing for days or weeks and later return, you know, back to normal. Others bounced between family members, homes, shelters, or the streets. Addictions made lives unstable, and families often found themselves searching on their own when someone stopped answering calls, so police would often assume that this would be the case for everyone. Now, this made

police and residents not always trust each other. Families later said that they struggled to get missing persons reports taken seriously, especially when their loved ones were known to use drugs or had criminal records. In many cases, officers assumed people would come back when they were ready. That was a situation. Oh they're not missing, they'll just come back.

There was alcohol, there was drugs, there was a place to stay, maybe someone who even seemed friendly enough to trust, and for some of them, that was all. It took the conditions around him, you know, poverty, addiction, unstable housing, and the community used to chaos. It created the perfect

cover for him. People came and went constantly, no one kept track of who was last seen where, And it was in May of two thousand and seven that this setting allowed for a woman named Crystal Dozier to disappear. Crystal was thirty eight years old and she was a mother of seven. Yes, that's right, she had seven kids. She was known around the neighborhood as someone who looked out for others. She was described as responsible and caring, the kind of person who tried to keep everyone together.

But like many people in Mount Pleasant, her life had become very complicated by a dick, especially after she had endured some personal loss and a routine wasn't always predictable. When she stopped showing up, her family noticed and they reported her missing and started searching on their own, putting up flyers, calling hospitals, trying to track down anyone who might have seen her. Now, Crystal had gone missing before and eventually resurfaced, which made it harder to convince others

that something was seriously wrong this time. Now there was no reason to connect this to Anthony. He lived quietly on Imperial Avenue, socializing with neighbors, keeping a low profile, maybe even throwing a barbecue. Women came and went from his house regularly, sure, often for drugs or alcohol, but that didn't stand out in the neighborhood. Investigators would later learn, though, that this was how he approached many of his victims. He offered a drink, a place to relax, drugs, sometimes

even just a conversation. The encounters started casually, with little reason for anyone to feel any sort of immediate danger. But what happened after they entered that house, well that was another story. Now. Crystal's disappearance didn't spark a major

investigation at the time. There were no obvious signs of violence, no witnesses stepping forward, no immediate evidence pointing to a crime scene, without a body, without clear leads, the case faded into just another missing person's report in a neighborhood where people often slipped through those cracks. But inside the house on Imperial Avenue, though Anthony had discovered he could

kill without ever being noticed. In two thousand and eight, women in the area began vanishing one after another, each disappearance, again slipping into the background noise of a struggling neighborhood. Tashana Culver disappeared next. She was a mother who spent years trying to rebuild stability in her life. She was described as generous, someone who shared food with people who had less than she did. But like many others, she struggled with drugs and sometimes drifted away from family for

stretches of time. So when she stopped coming around, people worried, but there was no immediate sign of foul play. A few months later, Lashonda Long vanished. She was only twenty five, the youngest of the eventual victims. She was strong willed and outspoken, and she was known for her attitude and energy. Her disappearance was the same like the others, didn't immediately raise any red flags beyond those closest to her.

life around despite struggling with her addiction. By late two thousand and eight, Tanya Carmichael also disappeared. She had once worked as a medical secretary and bartender, earning a professional license and raising children, but addiction eventually pulled her off course. But people knew her still, and they described her as someone who loved life and cared deeply about her family. But the months just continued to pass, and so did the disappearances. Kim Yvette Smith went missing in early two

thousand and nine, just before her forty fourth birthday. She was known as artistic and caring, especially towards her disabled father, whom she helped support. Nancy Cobbs vanished that spring, after her family had spent months searching for them herselves, posting flyers and checking abandoned buildings. Amelda or Amy Hunter disappeared soon after her. She was a beautician, a mother, and someone relatives described as a fighter than Janis Webb, remembered

as a family jokester. She stopped coming around, and not long after that, Talasia Forston vanished, just as people close to her believed she was trying to get her life back together.

in ways that Anthony seemed to understand. Investigators later determined that Anthony luring them in and gaining their trust that's when he struck and he never allowed them to leave his home after. So, yes, you are one hundred percent right, Like investigators need to be more on top of these missing persons reports, but unfortunately they're screening methods, if you will, are flawed and imperfect.

on with no one knowing the truth. The problem was that no signs on their own looked like proof of anything sinister. They existed as separate incidents, complaints, rumors, strange smells, just scattered pieces that never quite formed a complete picture until it was too late, And that most persistent warning was the odor. Neighbors had complained for years about a powerful rotting smell drifting through the block. Some described it as sickening, others that it reminded them of something dead.

The smell seemed strongest near Anthony's house, but in a neighborhood filled with old buildings, vacant lots, struggling businesses, people searched for more ordinary explanations. Now just next time door set Raise Sausage Shop, a local meat processing business, which quickly became the assumed source of the smell. City inspectors were called multiple times, and the owners spent large amounts of money trying to correct what they believe was the problem.

They were, you know, replacing ventilation systems, adjusting grease traps, even making sewer improvements, but nothing worked. The smell still lingered, and eventually people stopped asking questions. It simply became part of the neighborhood.

in hindsight, seemed impossible to ignore. Now. As I mentioned, because Anthony was a registered sex offender, officers regularly checked in with him. He was required to report to authorities every few months, and deputies sometime conducted unannounced visits to confirm where he was living as well at his Imperial

Avenue address. However, this was limited. Officers had no legal authority to enter his home, so the interactions were limited to just the doorway, you know, brief conversations, routine paperwork, nothing that would reveal what he was hiding inside. Again, the smell, oh well that's coming from next door. No one, they're working on the ventilation or the drainage or the

sewer or something like that. So again, even though they're standing at his front door with the smell, it's easily explained away.

She described being attacked and sexually assaulted for hours, and she said she barely escaped, but when she was told she needed to come to the station to file those charges, while fear and distrust of the authorities kept her from following through, and so the case while it stalled before it ever really began.

this is bullshit. You have someone with a history of sexual violence and she is saying that he tried to rape me. Something else needs to be fucking done here. Should that alone should be grounds for entering his house if you need a reason. Absolutely, But nothing happened of it.

And I don't want to downplay each incident by saying each incident seems small. What I'm trying to say is each incident is one on its own one. You can maybe explain away how police already had done you know what, two different accounts of these individuals. Maybe it's just a domestic dispute that's that, you know what, can't really get too involved.

It would come from another survivor and the incident that finally forced authorities to look inside the house for the first time. One evening in the fall of two thousand and nine, a woman named Latundra Billips went to Anthony's house. She knew him casually, and she later said that they spent time drinking and smoking crack together, and at one point, according to her account, while they were doing so, his demeanor changed quickly without warning. He suddenly became violent, hitting

her and sexually assaulting her. She said that he strangled her with an extension court until she lost consciousness and she was convinced that she was going to die, But when she woke up hours later, she realized she had somehow survived and that she was still alive now. The assault had left her badly injured, though she did make it out, and she went to the hospital the following morning, where a sexual assault nurse examiner performed a rape kit

and she spoke with police. She expected investigators to follow up quickly, but days passed, then weeks. According to later reportings, officers said they struggled to locate her, and because of her unstable lifestyle and addiction, it was difficult to communicate and attempts to meet up with her were missed. It wasn't until October twenty seventh, more than a month after the attack, that her official report was finally taken and detectives moved forward with it. It took some time, but

they were taking it seriously. Two days later, police obtained an arrest warrant for Anthony Sowell, but just before police officers got that warrant, someone else found themselves in Anthony's path. On October twentieth, a woman named Sean Morris went to Anthony's home. She later said the evening started casually with drinks and conversation, and the next morning, when she tried

to leave well, Anthony attacked her. He viciously beat and sexually assaulted her, then began locking the doors and the windows all throughout the house. In that moment, she realized she wasn't going to be allowed to leave, so in a desperate attempt to survive, she saw an opening and she jumped from a window on the upper floor of the house, falling roughly thirty feet to the ground below.

So they were already looking at him when this incident happened, and the plan was straightforward to execute the search warrant, arrest Anthony, and search the home for evidence related to the assault, including the cl clothing an extension cord Latundra described being used to choker so on the evening of October twenty ninth, two thousand and nine, two days after Latundra's assault incident, and nine days after Sean Morris's assault incident,

police officers arrived at one two to two five Imperial Avenue expecting to make a straightforward arrest. The plan was for a SWAT team to enter first, secure the house, and arrest Anthony if he was inside. Detectives would follow behind and search for evidence connected to the assault, and just before seven pm officers moved in. The house was a three story structure divided by two apartments, Anthony living in the upstairs unit, which occupied the second and third floors.

As officers entered, bags were piled through the rooms, Dirty clothes covered the floors, Buckets were used as makeshift toilets that sat in the corner, despite a functioning bathroom being present in the house, and there was a smell that went all throughout. Several officers later described it as overwhelming, a heavy, rotting odor that grew stronger the higher they climbed in the home. Even seasoned officers struggled to work

through it. They continued clearing rooms methodically, moving floor by floor, room by room, calling out as they went, but Anthony wasn't there. When officers reached the top floor, they found a small room sitting with its windows covered in black plastic blocking most of the light come from coming inside,

and the door it was locked. Believing Anthony might be hiding inside this room, officers forced it open and entered with weapons drawn, and at first they only saw shadows, but as their eyes adjusted to the dark light and flashlights swept the room, the shapes on the floor came into focus. There were two bodies laying side by side, partially covered in plastic and surrounded by beer cans and

cigarette butts. Both were badly decomposed. Officers immediately backed out of the room, realizing they were no longer dealing with a simple sexual assault investigation, that this house was now a homicide scene. As teams began securing the area, another group searched the basement and they radioed upstairs. Beneath a set of stairs they had found what looked like a freshly disturbed patch of dirt and a black plastic protruding from it. It was clear they were going to be

finding multiple bodies here. Homicide detectives and crime scene technicians were soon called into the home, and they arrived shortly after eight pm. The house was sealed off with crime scene tape as investigators began documenting every inch. The county coroner's office was also called in, but the condition of

the bodies made immediate identification impossible. Side neighbors gathered behind police lines, watching as stretchers were carried out with body bags, and rumors spread quickly, and many assumed that one of the dead was Anthony himself, but the reality, of course, was he was still missing and these were his victims. Inside the basement, investigators carefully removed layers of dirt beneath the stairs. They uncovered another body, wrapped bound and partially buried.

The next morning, investigators returned with additional resources, including FBI kadaver dogs. The dogs immediately alerted investigators to areas that hadn't yet been fully examined. On the third floor, officers discovered a crawl space behind patched drywall. Outside. The dogs led investigators into the backyard and another body was found buried in dirt and additional remains stuffed into garbage bags. Freshly disturbed soil near the steps also caught their attention,

and one body was found, then another. Over the following hours and days, investigators continued uncover remains buried in those shallow graves inside the house. They also discovered a skull wrapped in paper and placed inside a bucket. What had started as a search for evidence in a sexual assault case had now turned into something almost unimaginable. By the time investigators finished searching the property, eleven women had been found dead in and around the home.

October twenty ninth in search of him. Anthony, at the time was fifty years old, about six feet tall, thin, usually wearing glasses, and known throughout Mount Pleasant neighborhoods as tone. Police warned residents not to approach him and offered a reward for any information leading to his arrest. Officers also checked abandoned buildings, alleyways, scrap yards, and homes of relatives.

Patrol cars flooded the neighborhood while investigators worked around the clock at this house, continuing to recover bodies and evidence from inside and its property. Now, as the search was going on, a woman who knew Anthony casually from the neighborhood reportedly spotted him at his sister's home not far

from Imperial Avenue. She told him that police were swarming his house and that bodies had been found inside, and according to later reports, Anthony appeared agitated and said words to the effect of quote, it's all going to come out now, end quote. He briefly agreed to return with her, but changed his mind before just before reaching the house, and he insisted to be taken back now. When police learned that he had been seen alive, though, the search intensified.

On October thirty one, two thousand and nine, two days after the first bodies were discovered, officers found Anthony walking along a street roughly a mile from his home, and they quickly took him into custody without incident.

mean investigators wanted it that way. They started rather light, you know, easy going, trying to make him feel comfortable. He answered basic questions about his background, his military service, and his family. At times he even seemed relaxed and detached from reality. But when the questioning turned towards the bodies and things started to heat up, his responses became vague and inconsistent. He denied clear intent, He offered suggestions

about confusion and claiming he didn't remember details. At other moments, he admitted to choking women and then refused to explain why now. Detectives then pressed him about the number of victims, and he reportedly gave uncertain answers, at one point suggesting there might be ten and then changing his response again.

Throughout all this, investigators quickly realized they could not rely on him for a complete or accurate account of events, so instead they began reconstructing the timeline through physical evidence and missing persons reports.

the house already spoke for itself. Their goal was to understand the sequence of events when the murder started, how many bodies there were, how they ended up in different parts of the house, whether there were more victims beyond the eleven already discovered. But police had also answered had to find the answer for who these victims were. Because of the conditions of many of the remains, identification was almost impossible off the bat and very slow and difficult afterwards.

They relied heavily on DNA testing, dental records, and personal items recovered at the scene. At the same time, Cleveland police established a command center and asked family with missing loved ones to come forward. For many families, that request confirmed their worst fears. Relatives arrived carrying photographs, clothing, personal items that might help with identification. Some had been searching for you years. Others had filed missing persons reports, only

to feel dismissed or ignored. One by one, the names began to emerge. The first identified was Tanya Carmichael, a fifty year old fifty three year old mother who had disappeared in late two thousand and eight. Soon after, came to Nasha Culver, a thirty three year old mother remembered for her kindness and generosity, and then Talaka Forston, a thirty one year old mother of three who had been

trying to rebuild her life before she vanished. Investigators then later identified Crystal Dozier, a thirty eight year old mother of seven and one of the earliest victims missing since May of two thousand and seven. Michelle Mason, forty five, was next. She had spent time away from Cleveland trying to turn her life around and begun rebuilding stability before disappearing in two thousand and eight. As DNA testing continued,

more and more names were connected and confirmed. Kim Yvette Smith, forty four, who was a kind caregiver for her disabled father. Nancy Cobbs forty five, a grandmother who tried to reconnect with family after struggling with addiction. Amelda or Amy Hunter forty seven was a beautician and an avid reader, remembered as a fighter. Denise Webb forty eight described by relatives as a family jokester who kept everyone laughing despite her struggles.

One of the most difficult identifications involved Leshon de Long, only twenty five years old, the youngest victim. Authorities recovered only her skull, which had been placed in a bucket in the basement for her family. There would be no complete body to bury. The final victim identified was Diane Turner, a mother of six who had been battling addiction for

years and had recently been trying to stay sober. Her remains were among the last confirmed, partially because of fractured family connections and complications with identification process, but by the time they were all identified, there were eleven women in total who were named, and a clearer picture of the case emerged. All of the victims were black women, most

were mothers. Many struggled with addictions or unstable housing. Several had criminal records tied to survival crimes like drug possession or sex work. Some had been reported missing, but others had not either because families assumed they would return or because relationships become strained over time. For investigators, identifying the victims also meant revisiting old missing persons reports and seeing the pattern that had been missing. Families spoke about their

frustrations openly. Some said they'd been going to police and had only been told that their loved ones would just come back whenever they're ready. Others said that they felt that their cases never received serious attention because of the addiction or lifestyle, which is a harsh reality still felt by many in society today. Now, after months of investigation, evidence processing, and victim identification, prosecutors began preparing for one

of the largest murder cases in Cleveland's history. Anthony Sewell faced an overwhelming list of charges. Prosecutors filed eleven counts of aggravated murder, along with dozens of additional charges including rape, kidnapping, abuses of corpse, and tampering with evidence. The sheer volume of evidence, forensic reports, photographs, DNA results, witness testimony, and surveillance footage even meant that the case would take a

long time to reach trial. Originally scheduled to begin in twenty ten, the trial was delayed multiple times as both sides prepared, and when the trial finally began in June of twenty eleven, the focus was clear, proving that the deaths of the eleven women were deliberate acts of murder

carried out by Anthony. The man who lived at one two two five Imperial Avenue now Anthony himself initially entered a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity, but later withdrew that claim, changing his plea to simply not guilty. Jurors were shown photographs from inside the home and heard testimony from investigators who described what they had had encountered

when they entered the home as well. In October of two thousand and nine, survivors who had escaped Anthony's attacks also testified, explaining how he lured women inside with offers of drugs or alcohol or you know, places to stay, before then becoming violent. One of the most powerful moments of the trial came when jurors were taken on a walk through of the house itself.

but the pattern across the victims was clear. Prosecutors argued that the evidence left little room for doubt, and on July twenty second, twenty eleven, after deliberation, the jury returned with its verdict. Anthony Sowell was found guilty and was convicted on eighty two of eighty three laid charges, including all eleven counts of aggravated murder. On August twelfth, twenty eleven, the judge formerly sentenced Anthony to death, placing him on

Ohio's death row. The verdict closed the legal side of the case, but it didn't end the question surrounding what had happened on Imperial Avenue. In the months and the years that followed, attention turned towards the broader failures that allowed the murders to continue for so long. Families of the victims, community members, journalists, and advocates began asking how eleven different women could disappear from the same neighborhood without

authorities connecting the pattern sooner. Many relatives had said that they tried to report their loved ones missing and felt dismissed. Some were told the women would come back when they were ready, and others said that their cases never gained traction because addiction and instability made disappearances seem less. Urgent investigative reporting highlighted repeated warning signs that in hindsight, appeared impossible to ignore. Neighbors had complained for months, even years,

about a foul odour near the house. Survivors had reported assaults. Anthony himself was a registered sex offender Tier three, the highest level, who was checked in regular with authorities. The case became a painful example of how vulnerable communities can fall through cracks. Now after the trial, city leaders decided that the building where this all took place should not remain standing, so in December of twenty eleven, demolition crews

tore down one two two five Imperial Avenue. The structure that had once hidden so much horror was reduced to rubble. Plans were soon developed for a memorial on the site, and in twenty twenty one, the Garden of eleven Angels, as it's called, was created to honor the victims. The space was designed as a place of reflection, not for the killer, but for the women of those lives who had been taken. Meanwhile, Anthony's legal appeals began, but courts

repeatedly rejected any of them. He was housed on death row in Chilikoth Correction Institution before being transferred to Franklin Medical Center as his health declined. Then, on February eighth, twenty twenty one, Anthony Swell died in prison from a terminal illness at the age of sixty one. His execution would never be carried out, and his story ends there.

But the story that really matters, well, it doesn't. It lives in the voices of survivors who escaped, in the families who refused to stop searching, in the memories of the victims, and in the woman who made the desperate, difficult choice to jump from a window rather than stay inside one more second. That moment, one person fighting to survive, helped stop the killings, and it forced the world to fire only look at what been hidden in plain sight

the entire time. And that's the story of the Cleveland Strangler.

these substances and stuff. But I don't know, like you go about maybe trying to trust someone and then it just like completely backfires, and then people don't even really pay attention to you missing because oh, like she's on a bender or whatever and she'll be back. Like it's just it, It just fucking tugs at your heart.

it into your own hands. Not only are you taking it into your own hands and not creating a history of looking for this person, but now you're putting yourself in potential danger too.

then that's when he started taking advantage of them. Yeah, he is, as I said earlier, one hell of a fucking predator and a monster who.

tears in my eyes right now. That would destroy me. Yeah, it would destroy me.

If someone reports a person missing, that's a fucking missing person's report. If you say, okay, you know what, maybe they'll be back in a day or two. Maybe they'll be back in a week or two. Look at their history. How long have they been gone before? Maybe if their history is being gone for three or four days, document that missing person's report, check in with the family every other fucking day, and if they're still gone after a couple of days, maybe then start in best mitigating it.

Hopefully enjoyed this episode. You want to check out things in our description, we have things like our website, We've got merch. We've got some exclusive merch actually going to be coming out here pretty quick with our five year anniversary approaching, so make sure you keep an eye on that. We've got our social media's and everything, and as I mentioned at the very beginning of this, it should be

checking out the Olympics. While we were recording this episode, Canada did win over Finland to to one, So good luck to Finland in the bronze medal game and good luck to Canada in the gold medal game. Both teams played extremely well.