Carter Roy (25:31)
visit zepbound.lilly.com Between 1873, when Alfred Packer committed his alleged crimes in the wilderness, and 1883, when a judge sentences him to die, something big happens. Colorado becomes a state. Why is that important to our story? Well, certain laws changed in that time frame. Most relevantly, laws around capital Punishment. The death penalty only became legal after Colorado achieved statehood. Prior to then, it was banned. And that fact becomes Alfred Packer's saving grace. See, a precedent had already been set by the Colorado Supreme Court. Crimes that took place while Colorado was a territory could only be subject to the laws that existed at that time. And because that didn't happen in Alfred's first trial, his lawyers are able to completely overturn his sentence on a technicality. The news does not go over well with the people of Lake City. Most locals have already made up their minds about Alfred, and some are ready to hang him themselves. So a decision is made to move his second trial to a new town, Gunnison, which is 50 miles away. The hope is things will be a little less heated at the second trial. Alfred can't be charged with murder again, also due to legal technicalities, but he can be charged with manslaughter. So that's what happens. And the second trial goes about as well as the first. A jury quickly convicts, and a judge sentences Alfred to 40 years in a state penitentiary. Eight years for each victim, which, at the time, is the longest sentence ever handed down by an American judge from prison. Alford appeals the decision over and over, and the Colorado Supreme Court reviews his case five times. Even though the court never changes its mind about Alfred's guilt, others in the public eventually do. But before I get into what happens to move that needle, I want to ask you to try your best to take cannibalism out of the equation when evaluating Alfred's guilt or innocence. No one has ever accused Alfred Packer of wanting to eat his companions. He described the experience as torture. He said it all happened in a blur. The horror of what he had to do stuck with him for the rest of his life. His motivation for that part of the story is not really up for debate. But the taboo associated with cannibalism might unfairly tip the scales. For what is up for debate. Whether he killed his companions with foresight or otherwise, in our modern world, with modern resources, it's hard to imagine a scenario where cannibalism would be socially permissible. But that wasn't always true. Back in the day, there was an unwritten rule for sailors that if disaster struck at sea and it came down to it, the crew would be drawing straws to see who would be killed for food. And the practice was, for the most part, accepted by wider society. It wasn't a topic of conversation at the dinner table. But there wasn't any blame either. And Alfred's world was much closer to that mentality than ours. In fact, believe it or not, another group of prospectors got lost in the mountains at the same time as Alfred. And when they came home, they admitted that things reached the point where they seriously considered randomly selecting who would get sacrificed. So with that out of the way, let's talk about Alfred's alleged murders. After Alfred is locked up in a state penitentiary, A few things happen to sway public perception. First, he always maintains his innocence and is apparently really well behaved during his sentence. So he gets some minor brownie points for that. But more importantly, in 1890, nine years into his sentence, A reporter from the Denver Post named Polly Pry takes an interest in Alfred's case. She interviews him in prison and walks away absolutely convinced of his innocence. And she becomes a fierce advocate. She launches a full blown media campaign on Alfred's behalf, Painting him as a really honest and sympathetic figure. She makes a big deal about how prison is making Alfred's health problems Most likely related to his epilepsy. Worse, she writes things like the corroding desire for freedom has eaten into his heart and the blind injustice of the world has seared into his soul. Now, as far as I or my team can tell, her deep rooted convictions don't stem from any more evidence coming to light. She just has a gut feeling, A belief that the world judged Alfred too quickly and too harshly, that the final story he told in court is indeed the truth. Evidence or not, Polly is persuasive. She's able to convince a lot of people of Alfred's innocence, and some get really passionate about it. Public discourse gets so heated that two people are shot and almost killed in an argument about it. Alfred's supporters eventually sign a petition to requesting he be pardoned. And though a pardon never happens, the pressure is enough that the governor of Colorado has Alfred released on parole after serving just 15 years of his 40 year sentence. To some, it's justice. To others, his release is a crime unto itself. But even though Polly Pry may be the first person to reevaluate Alfred's case, she and her hunch are not the reason we're still talking about it today. Alfred Packermania, with all the festivals and restaurants and merchandise, Kicks off more than a century after his trip into the mountains in 1989, a law professor at George Washington University named James Starrs decides to do something kind of wacky. Exhume the bodies of Alfred's alleged victims. He'd spent years using Alfred's case as an example of a successful murder conviction achieved without the use of any forensic evidence. So he finally decides to see what the forensic evidence says. Stars works with all kinds of experts, an archaeologist, anthropologists, document analysts, geophysicists and more. And the project ends up costing $15,000. In the end, it. Well, it seemingly doesn't find a smoking gun, but it does introduce Alfred Packer's story to a brand new audience and kicks off a strange and very niche tourism industry in Lake City and beyond. It creates enough publicity that the story reaches Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the co creators of South Park. And they make a movie in 1993 called the Musical, starring Trey as Alford Erd. Flash forward another five years and a museum curator named David Bailey finds another piece of the puzzle while doing some inventory. An 1862 Colt revolver with three.38 caliber cartridges still loaded inside. And it has a label that reads, this gun found at the site where Alfred Packer killed and ate his companions. That leads Bailey down a decade long rabbit hole that's all about, well, a hole. A hole in a hip bone. See, James Starr's earlier investigation operated under the assumption that the hole was created post mortem, most likely by some scavenger's teeth. But Bailey runs some tests that find lead inside the hole. Lead that matches the chemical composition of the bullets found inside Alfred Packer's gun. Bailey then runs a test where he shoots those same bullets from Alfred's gun into the hip bone of an elk. And it creates a hole that mirrors the one found on the human remains. Why is that important? Well, it's enough to convince Bailey that Polly Pry's hunch was right. Alfred Packer was innocent. Here's the logic. A gun is the most effective tool for killing. But there were three bullets still loaded in Alfred's gun, and only one of his alleged victims showed signs of being shot. Shannon Bell, the man Alfred said was the real killer. The person he says he shot in self defense. If Alfred's plan was to kill and rob his companions all along, why didn't he just shoot them? And why wait so long to do? Seems like a lot of trouble. And these days there are other points people make to support Alfred's innocence. Like how he was by most accounts pretty strange. When testifying on the standard, he often referred to himself in the third person and apparently went on long winded tangents about unrelated personal vendettas. According to one former Lake City town clerk, archival research suggests Alfred may have been feared and misunderstood for reasons beyond his control, related to both his personality and his health problems. And there's some Deep doubt around whether he got a fair trial. At the time, publicity around the case made jury selection nearly impossible. Of the 57 prospective jurors, 44 admitted they already knew about the case and had formed opinions on Alfred's guilt. To keep the trial on track, the judge ordered a local sheriff to go out and find unbiased candidates. But some doubt whether he actually did. For a job that seemed impossible, the sheriff somehow miraculously filled the jury quota in a matter of hours. But not everyone is as convinced as David Bailey. And they have fair points, too. Alfred's trial was filled with damning character witnesses. And there are accounts of him acting really suspicious from the very beginning of his prospecting trip. Like he apparently annoyed everyone in the group by asking each person how much money they had on them. That, and he was apparently lazy. Later, when Alfred saw he might get out of prison early, he apparently started brainstorming ways he could monetize his own mythos. You know, those sensationalized Wild west shows I mentioned earlier? Alfred thought about touring the country as Packer the Man Eater. As for me and my team, there's one question we never found a satisfying answer to. Alfred told many stories. He started with no murder or cannibalism. He ended with cannibalism, but a killer that wasn't him. But. But in between those, he told a third one where he said there was no real killer at all, just natural deaths and self defense. Why tell that story at all if it really was the truth? Why not jump straight to pinning the blame on Bell? If you have thoughts, we would love to hear them. These days, it seems like everyone forms their own very different opinion. But when Lake City and its surrounding towns hold mock trials reenacting Alfred's case and David Bailey's evidence is included, more times than not, Alfred is acquitted. In hindsight, there's too much reasonable doubt. As for what happened to Alfred when he got out of prison, he didn't tour the country as Packer the Man Eater. He spent some time in Denver working for the Post before he moved to the countryside to be closer to the mountains. He lived a quiet life until he died in 1907. Some accounts say his dying words were, I'm not guilty of the charge. But even in death, it's hard to separate fact from fiction. With Alfred, some sources say he died from a stroke. Others from trouble and worry, and still others from stomach problems. Which, if you ask me, feels a little too on the nose for the Colorado Cannibal. Thank you for listening to conspiracy theories. We're here with a new episode every Wednesday. Be sure to check us out on Instagram heconspiracypod. If you're watching on Spotify, swipe up and give us your thoughts. Our sources for today's episode include Diana DiStefano's article Alfred Packer's risk, responsibility and the Place of Experience in Mountain Culture for the Journal of Social History, and the National Geographic article Was the Colorado Cannibal a Victim? You Decide By Everett Cole until next time, Remember, the truth isn't always the best story, and the official story isn't always the truth. This episode was written and researched by Connor Sampson, edited by Mickey Taylor, fact checked by Sophie Kemp, and engineered video, edited and sound designed by Alex Button. I'm your host, Carter Roy. Blood Trails is a true crime podcast born in the outdoors, where the terrain is unforgiving, the evidence is scarce, and the truth gets buried under brush and silence. I seen something in the road. I instantly thought it was a sleeping bed and there was a pool of blood. Somebody somewhere knows something. I'm Jordan Sillers. Season 2 is out now with new episodes every Thursday. Listen on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.