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- [00:00]
Celisia Stanton
Coming to ABC and Hulu, Amanda Riley was a mother, wife speaker at her church. And then she got diagnosed with cancer. A beloved young Christian woman fighting a battle undeserved. We thought she was God's gift, but she was a liar. Why would somebody fake cancer? From the number one smash hit podcast, it was only a matter of time until Amanda's whole world came tumbling down. You're not gonna believe this. Scamanda premieres Thursday night, January 30th on ABC and Stream on Hulu.
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Narrator
He was a boy Scout leader, a church deacon, a husband, a father.
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He went to a local church. He was going to the grocery store with us. He was the guy next door.
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But he was leading a double life.
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He was certainly a peeping Tom. Looking through the windows, looking at people, fantasizing about what he could do. He then began entering the houses.
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He could get into their home, take.
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Celisia Stanton
Something and get out and not be caught. He felt very powerful.
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Narrator
He was a monster hiding in plain sight.
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Someone killed four members of a family. It just didn't happen here.
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Journey inside the mind of one of history's most notorious killers, btk, through the voices of the people who know him best. Listen to Monster BTK on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever. Listen to your favorite shows.
- [01:30]
Celisia Stanton
Please be aware that today's story contains references to suicide, gun violence, child abuse, and housing insecurity. Please take care while listening. I was in the third grade, the year I first remember realizing that the bad stuff that happens on TV happened to real people. At the time, my mom worked at a small liberal arts college and so we lived in on campus housing. At that point, my mom had spent most of her career working at different colleges and universities, and so at 8, I was already plenty comfortable in the company of university students who seemed to find me equal parts adorable and annoyingly talkative. My days as that kid that lived on campus were mostly warm. Like the time I'd request to perform in the college talent show. I SANG the Lizzie McGuire theme song, duh. Or the time I went trick or treating through the residence hall. Those suckers really gave me all their dorm candy. And there were also touches of absurdity, like the time some drunk undergrad stole my bike and placed it in the middle of a frozen lake. Or the time when different students, also drunk, threw a couch out the window of a study lounge where it landed gracefully on top of our family's van. It was a unique life, for sure, but overall, it was one. Shielded from the scary things reporters droned on about on tv. But that was tv. Those things just didn't happen in real life. That is, until the day that a 21 year old student disappeared from the campus where I lived. Within hours of her disappearance, she was reported missing and a massive search was underway. The next day, they'd find her body in a dam only a mile away. A short time after that, investigators would find her killer. It was awful. It was the type of horrifying event that the media jumps on. The woman, attractive, white and blonde, had been abducted from a parking lot on campus. Her killer was a complete stranger, a parolee struggling with mental illness. As word spread, so did the community's fear. All of a sudden, folks were double checking their door locks and watching everyone around them with a bit more suspicion. At 8, I was suddenly aware that the unimaginable wasn't just TV. In the years that followed, I'd spend long nights watching Nancy Grace and many days begging my mom for grocery store tabloids, getting media and messages that sold a certain story. Victims of violence, White women, perpetrators of violence. Scary strangers, monsters in the dark. And who to call for help when nightmare becomes reality? The police, of course. It would be a long time before I realized the truth that white women are among the least likely to be crime victims, that perpetrators are rarely strangers, and that police aren't nearly as good at finding answers as popular media leads us to believe. As it turns out, becoming a victim of crime is often far less random than it may seem. I discovered upon closer examination that our communities sit on a complex web of systems, many with widely gaping holes. Holes that pull in folks who are often quite different than those we usually see on tv. But who are these people, the ones who our systems fail and then promptly forget? As always, it's a question with many answers. But today we'll talk about one, because this is the story of Relisha Rudd. I'm Celisia Stanton, and you're listening to truer crime. May 19, 2014. The day seemed to be going more or less like normal for Payne elementary school social worker Mr. Workman. According to Michael Chandler, writing for the Washington Post, Workman typically spent his days supporting students with behavioral disabilities, doing referrals for support services, stuff like that. And on this day, Workman left the school to follow up on one specific student, Relisha Rudd, a second grader who had been racking up absences, unexcused absences. According to the post, workman's journey began two weeks before, on March 5th. The start was pretty standard. A ping, an alert A notice Relisha had been absent, unexcused, five times. That was the content of the automatic notification, the kind the school social worker always received after a student missed enough school days without explanation. Workman already knew Relisha's family. He had worked closely with her brothers, and Relisha was one of 57 students at Payne elementary whose family was struggling with homelessness. So after he learned about Relish's absences, Workman did what he usually did in these cases and followed up with her family. And when he asked about Relisha's time away from his school, the family told him that Relisha was sick and currently under the care of a doctor. And, yeah, that seems like a reasonable reason for a child to miss school. But to get the absences officially excused, Workman needed proper documentation. So the family gave him the phone number for Relisha's physician, Dr. Tatum. According to journalist Michael Chandler, over the next several days, Workman exchanged a number of calls with Dr. Tatum. Tatum would tell the social worker that, yes, Relisha was under his care and that he was treating her for a neurological issue. But despite these phone calls, Workman was still having trouble getting a hold of the documentation he needed. First, Dr. Tatum said he would send the necessary paperwork over once Belicia's treatment had been completed, and then he provided a fax number which couldn't be reached. Finally, by March 19, Relisha had been gone for school for over four weeks. At that point, Workman finally decided enough was enough. He would go to the shelter where Relisha lived, and Dr. Tatum worked to retrieve the documentation his self. But when he arrived and asked the shelter staff if he could speak with Dr. Tatum, Workman was met with confusion. There was no one named Dr. Tatum who worked there. They told him. Feeling a bit panicked at that point, Workman asked if there was anybody by the name of Tatum who worked at the shelter at all this time. There was recognition. There was a Tatum employed by the shelter, but he wasn't a doctor. Khalil Tatum was the shelter's custodian. It was a nightmarish answer that would raise an even more horrifying question. Where was Relisha Rudd? Understanding everything that led up to this point and everything that would follow took tracing a long and twisted road through news coverage and interviews, government reports, and celebrity talk shows. It's a journey I want to take you on, too. But to do that, you'll first need to get to know Relisha.
- [08:33]
Narrator
This episode is brought to you by companion Iris and Josh seem like the perfect match, but when a weekend getaway turns into a nightmare, Iris realizes that things aren't as perfect as they appear. From the creators of Barbarian and the studio that brought you the Notebook comes a twisted tale of modern romance and the sweet satisfaction of revenge. Companion only in theaters January 31st. Rated R under 17 not admitted without Parent what if there were a medicine.
- [09:05]
Celisia Stanton
That could heal almost anything? That would be great, but they didn't want you to know about it. Sorry, who's they? Some people are following me and I brought my tortoise. From executive producers Mike Judge and Greg Daniels and co creators Joe Bennett and Steve Healy comes an animated comedy thriller.
- [09:22]
Narrator
About what it takes to change the world.
- [09:24]
Celisia Stanton
Common side Effects Series premieres with back.
- [09:27]
Narrator
To back episodes February 2nd at 11:30pm on Adult Swim.
- [09:31]
Celisia Stanton
Next day on Max My mom likes to say that as a kid I was quick to correct anyone who got my name wrong. That's not my name, it's Celicia, came my quick reply to every mix up or mispronunciation. And while I still feel like my mom's retelling makes me sound much sassier than I actually was, the point was this. My name was my name and I wasn't afraid to correct folks. So when I read that Relisha hated when people got her name wrong, I got it. In 2014, Relisha Rudd, who lived in D.C. was 8. She loved Michael Jackson Tinkerbell dancing and was just the right amount of sassy, according to Teresa Vargas of the Washington Post, A little girl unafraid to ask for what she wanted. The cheerleading coach at the school Relisha attended through first grade would tell the Washington Post that Relisha came up to her once after watching other students practicing their cheers. Throwing her arms into the air, Relicia would spell out the word victory. She wanted the coach to see that she had what it took to be on the team. But despite relicious spunk, sass and happy attitude in her young life, she was already no stranger to hardship. According to Leslie Foster of WUSA9, at the time of her disappearance, Relisha lived with her mother, Shamika, stepfather Antonio and two younger brothers in the southeast corner of the city at the D.C. general Family Shelter. John Colin Hill, writing for WAMU, would say that by the time 2014 had rolled around, the family had been living at the shelter for a year and a half, the result of a multi generational struggle to escape poverty. And as I read about Relisha and her family, it struck me how heart wrenchingly common these stories are according to a report from the national alliance to end homelessness. Despite DC's commitment to place families like Relisha's into independent long term housing, from 2013 to 2014, DC's homeless family population grew by 25%, while the number of permanent supportive housing options increased only 3%. It's a reality which left many children without safe and reliable places to sleep at night. Relisha Rudd was one of them. But the road that led Relicia and her loved ones to D.C. general Family Shelter was a long one. And there's this timeline put together by the Urban Institute that lays it all out. After Relicia was born in 2005, her family moved into an apartment in a neighborhood reeling from the weight of racism and poverty. When they moved in, it wasn't exactly the safest place for children. Then comes 2007, when Relisha was two years old, and child welfare gets a report saying the family's kids were inadequately fed and inadequately supervised. And that report, well, it kind of marked the start of a five year stretch, a half decade of housing instability. In that time, five separate landlords filed lease violation cases against the family. Then 2012 hit, and Shamiga Young, Relish's 25 year old mother, got another eviction notice. Only this time, they had nowhere new to go. The family would end up living in a motel for three months before moving into the D.C. general Family Shelter. That's where they lived for a year and a half before March 19, 2014, the day when Payne Elementary School social worker Mr. Workman discovered that Relisha was missing. As I learned about Relisha and her family, it struck me that even though they used several social service programs, they still ultimately ended up living at a shelter. And this mirrors the stories of so many folks facing housing insecurity. It's a scary reality, considering the fact that, according to Boston University's School of Public Health, a lack of housing has been linked to higher risk for a bunch of horrifying outcomes, including, at worst, early death. And rarely are people experiencing houselessness dealing with only this stress. Substance abuse, poverty and mental health struggles are just few of the many things placing strain on families like Relisha's. Without the right support, all of these things can spur cycles of instability that may be nearly impossible to escape. But perhaps it's a reality which says more about the conditions of people than it does about the people themselves. According to a 2020 article written by reporter Christian Zapata for DCist, nationally, Black people comprise 40% of the homeless population, despite being only 13% of the general public. And in D.C. black residents make up nearly 48% of the general population, but 88% of people experiencing homelessness. To many working to end homelessness, systemic racism is part and parcel to chronic homelessness. As Lara Pukach, director of advocacy for Miriam's Kitchen, would tell the dcist, ending homelessness in black communities is a matter of ending homelessness altogether. And when systemic racism is a direct cause of chronic homelessness and nearly half of those experiencing homelessness nationally are black, then the stigma against the houseless becomes racialized. It seemed to me it was yet another cycle. Systemic racism fuels homelessness, which fuels more systemic racism, and around and around it goes. It really does function scarily well, I thought. But contrary to harmful stereotypes, many folks experience housing insecurity and homeless it doesn't need to look a certain way. People facing homelessness go to work and school. They have family and friends who deeply love them. And the same, of course, was true for Relisha. Outside of her mom Shmika and stepfather Antonio, Relisha and her brothers would spend lots of time with their grandmother Melissa and their aunt Ashley. So on March 19, 2014, when the school social worker reported Relicia missing, it was those closest to Relisha who investigators spoke with first. But the troubling thing was no one seemed to know that Relisha had even been missing. And here I have to be honest and say the exact details of the police questioning, who said what, when and where. They vary quite a bit depending on the source. But here's what we do know. Broadly speaking. According to a timeline put together by Jonquiln Hill and Ponsi Roach for Whamu, police questioned Relisha's mom Shamika and stepdad Antonio in the family shelter's conference room. According to the podcast through the Cracks, Antonio would say that he was completely unaware that Relisha was missing. He had been working on a construction project that had him away from the shelter quite a bit. And he would say that he was shocked to discover that Shameika had not laid eyes on Relicia in weeks. Shameika, for her part, would eventually admit that she hadn't seen her daughter since March 1. But according to Leslie Foster of WUSA9, she hadn't been concerned because she believed Relisha was with her aunt Ashley and grandmother Melissa, according to a timeline from WaMu. Later that same day, investigators arrived at Ashley's house. Ashley would tell reporter Johanna Lee that, quote, when the police showed up here with their Guns drawn. That's when they finally told me Relisha was missing. I didn't even know my niece was missing. She had last seen Relisha a few weeks before on a day she cared for her at her home. While police were at Ashley's house, they also found Relisha's grandmother, Melissa, who they took back to the shelter conference room for questioning. According to reporter Johanna Lee, Melissa would tell police that her granddaughter wasn't missing. She would say that Shameika had agreed to let Relicia spend time with Khalil Tatum. And so finally, a picture starts to come together. Relisha had been with Khalil Tatum, but other than being DC General Shelter's custodian, who was he? Why had he been taking care of Alicia, and where was he now? As it turned out, Khalil Tatum was a close family friend. Despite the fact that relationships between shelter staff and residents were prohibited, Tatum was a warm man who the family liked. And to really understand how this came to be, it's important to remember that in 2014, the family had already been living at the shelter for 18 months. And D.C. general, well, it certainly didn't have the best reputation. According to reporting by journalist Johanna Lee for Inside Edition, at the time of relicious disappearance, D.C. general was the largest family shelter in D.C. reportedly housing up to 250 families at a time. But despite its large capacity, the building's conditions were no place for anyone, much less young children. Lee would write that quote. Comments on the shelter's Facebook group described allegations of discount drug deals, sexual assaults, bed bugs, and spoiled food. Shameika and Melissa would tell Lee that Relisha herself called the shelter a trap house. And Teresa Vargas would write for the Washington Post that Relisha, quote, wanted out so desperately, she would fake asthma attacks to stay at relatives homes for Relicia time at school time with family and friends. They meant an escape from a place she really hated. And Khalil Tatum, well, he was someone the family could lean on. According to writer Teresa Vargas and Lynn Bui, writing for the Washington Post, over the months they'd spent at the shelter, Tatum took Relisha on lots of fun getaways, to the mall, to the movies. Each time, Relisha would come back on time and sometimes even with gifts. Deshawn Tatum, Khalil's nephew, would even tell the Washington Post that Tatum treated Relisha like she was his own daughter. Shameika trusted Tatum. She'd even refer to him as Relisha's godfather to friends and family, a title that other kids at the shelter also affectionately called him. But the rest of the family, they didn't feel quite as comfortable with the relationship, at least not at first. Relisha's grandmother Melissa, would say that in the beginning, she was wary. She didn't understand why Shameika would let a grown man, a non family member, especially, care for her daughter. Relish's aunt Ashley felt similar. But as time passed, they'd warmed up to Tatum. Melissa would tell Inside Edition that she'd have conversations with Tatum when she visited Shameika and the kids at the shelter. She'd tell the local news WUSA9 that he'd even given her rides when she needed them. And ultimately, she'd say, I trusted him. I felt comfortable with him, and I don't trust everybody. And while it'd be easy to judge Relish's family, her mom, Shameika in particular, to say that her choice to let her daughter go off with a man who wasn't family was an example of reckless bad parenting, I wondered how much recourse Shamika really felt she had. The shelter was no place for Relicia. She had made it clear that she hated being there. And really, I can't imagine any kid enjoying being there. And here was a man with a good reputation who was offering Relisha things that Shameika herself couldn't. Melissa would tell Inside Edition that while she believed that Shameika could have certainly made better choices regarding the time she spent with Tatum, ultimately she believed that the choices she did make were Shemeika's way of trying to provide a better, safer environment for her daughter. I couldn't help but consider how easy it is to condemn Shameika when you aren't actually Shameika. But regardless of all of this, the blame game wouldn't bring Relisha home. And the reality was that Relisha was probably with Khalil Tatum. Problem was, Khalil Tatum was nowhere to be found. Finally, investigators are able to track down security footage, which they hope will bring them closer to the answers they're looking for. The footage, which was captured several weeks earlier on February 26, shows Tatum and Relicia in the hallway of a Holiday Inn. In it, the two can be seen casually walking side by side. Eventually, Tatum stops at a door, pulls out his keycard, and swipes it. The two walk into the room, and that's it. It's not much, but it's a visual confirmation that puts Tatum with relicia on February 26th. Then police say they found evidence of another sighting of the two on March 1. This time, Relisha and Tatum were seen walking at an entirely different hotel, the Days Inn. But things take a turn for the worse when investigators can't piece together any known whereabouts for Relicia after this March 1st sighting, which, remember, is nearly three weeks before Relisha was finally reported missing. But what they do find evidence for is harrowing. Just one day after Relisha and Khalil Tatum were spotted at the Days Inn, Tatum was seen making a number of purchases alone at a local store. Items which included 42 gallon trash bags and a shovel. And then on March 20, one day after the investigations began, law enforcement held a press conference urging folks who may have information to come forward. And it's at this point that an Amber Alert is finally issued for Alicia, three weeks after she was last seen and a full day after she was reported missing. But even the Amber Alert, as little and as late as it was, came half baked. While police would say that the Amber Alert was issued in D.C. and several surrounding states, investigative reporting by local news station WUSA9 found that the Amber Alert had only been issued in D.C. when reporters questioned D.C. police Chief Cathy Lanier about this at a March press conference, this is what she had to say. That's not true. I actually looked into that when I got that allegation. The Amber Alert was issued as far north as Pennsylvania and Delaware and as far south as Florida. WUSA9 would air the truth in a TV news segment.
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Narrator
If that had only been true, TV stations across the east coast would have been broadcasting relicious disappearance. But our investigation found the Amber Alert was only activated in the District of Columbia. And last month, except for D.C. maryland and Virginia, where stories had aired when we checked our Gannett sister stations and CBS affiliates from Delaware and Pennsylvania to Florida, none had done a single story on Relicia Rudd as they would had an Amber Alert actually been issued in their states.
- [23:48]
Celisia Stanton
But all of this would come to light days into the investigation, at a point when hope was already dwindling. Because according to reporter Jessica Schladebeck, writing for the NY Daily News, on the same day the Amber Alert was initially issued, investigators were able to track Tatum to the Red Roof Inn, where he and his wife, Andrea Tatum, had checked in two days prior. But when they arrived, to everyone's shock and horror, there was no Khalil Tatum, but instead only his wife, Andrea Tatum, dead from a gunshot wound to the head. The discovery was devastating both for Relicia's family, whose hopes of finding Relisha now seemed to be dwindling, and for Andrea Tatum's family, who were left confused and grief stricken over their loss. Alexis Kelly, Andrea's daughter, would tell Jonquillen Hill for the Whammu podcast Through the Cracks, that her mother was deeply loved, that she was outgoing, outspoken, and that she loved to laugh. The discovery of Andrea Tatum shifted the priorities of the D.C. police. And on March 27, they announced that the search to find Relisha had evolved to a recovery mission. It was another way of saying that they no longer expected to find Relisha Rudd alive. And then on April 1, after a body is found in DC's Kenilworth park, the investigation takes another shocking turn. This is ABC7 breaking news first at six.
- [25:23]
Narrator
Multiple sources now confirmed to ABC7 the body found inside Kenilworth park is that of Khalil Tatum. He's the man accused of kidnapping 8 year old Relisha Rudd, igniting a search that spread as far as Georgia. The park where his body was found is the same place D.C. police have spent four days searching for any signs of the eight year old girl.
- [25:45]
Celisia Stanton
Khalil Tatum had been found dead from what appeared to be a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The gun he used was the same gun used to kill Andrea Tatum. But Relisha, she was nowhere to be found. It seemed that Khalil Tatum had taken with his life the lingering hope for answers. In the months that followed, with no signs of Relisha, the responses were many. In the aftermath of the investigation, lots of folks wondered how something like this could happen. How could an 8 year old girl who supposedly had the protection of so many her family, the school System, the shelter, DC's Child and Family services, police, just be gone without a trace? How had she been able to disappear in the first place? And why did it take weeks after she was last seen for an investigation to begin? It was a question that created mounting pressure. And under that pressure came an order from D.C. mayor Vincent Gray for a full investigation into the city's response to Relisha's disappearance. But others still pointed the blame in an entirely different direction, namely at Relisha's mother, Shamiga Young. As weeks turned into months and months into years, Shameika continued to take the heat for what happened to Relisha, even receiving death threats from the public, according to WUSA9. And while Shameika would lose custody of her remaining children following Relisha's disappearance, as I researched this story, I ran across a seemingly endless barrage of online commentators who believed that Shmika's kids should have been removed from her career far earlier. That doing so could have prevented Relisha's disappearance, they'd often point to the fact that Shmeika had previously dealt with child welfare concerns. And these claims they did hold some water. The Washington Post reported that child and family service officials had noted concerns of, quote, physical abuse, filthy living conditions and a lack of food. But when I think of this, my mind immediately goes to the many complaints lodged against the D.C. general Family Shelter. Remember the reports of sexual assault, bedbugs and spoiled food? The Washington Post would take it even farther in their own investigation which discovered that shelter residents were even forced to go without heat or hot water, sometimes for weeks at a time. These complaints, these allegations, they seemed so similar, lining up one to one. Yet many seem more willing to criticize a 20 something year old mother trapped in poverty than a government run institution whose resources, like, dwarfed those of Shamika Young. It all reminded me of an entirely different episode I wrote for True Crime, our first episode on Darli Roudier. And what had struck me as I read about Darlie was just how much entertainment value there was in condemning mothers. And if Shemeika Young can be compared to Darlie Roudier at all, it's important to note that Shameika, who is poor and black, faces the additional barriers of racism and classism. On top of it all, I found one example particularly horrifying, an episode of the Steve Wilkos Show. And if you're like me and you've never heard of Steve Wilkos, a quick Google search will tell you everything you need to know. The show, predictably, stars host Steve Wilkos, a former Chicago cop and security guard from the Jerry Springer Show. And on his show, which, let's be honest, is just Jerry Springer, but make it angrier, Wilkos promises to stand up for everyday people and help viewers in need. The clip that caught my attention, though, is one the Steve Wilkos show uploaded to their YouTube channel. It's titled the Disappearance of Relisha Rudd. The video, which has amassed over 1.6 million views, opens with the crowd booing and jeering as Shamika walks on stage. She's there because Antonio Relic's stepdad and Melissa Relish's grandmother have agreed to take a lie detector test as a way to prove they had no involvement with Relish's disappearance. Steve Wilkos reads Antonio's results.
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Steve Wilkos
Did you participate in any way in the disappearance of Relisha? You answered no. Have you ever had any sexual physical contact with Relisha? You answered no. Did you ever strike any of your children, leaving marks or bruises? You answered no. The results came back the same to each and every question. And they came back that Antonio told the truth.
- [30:31]
Celisia Stanton
Watching this, I had the biggest pit in my stomach. A girl was missing, and her disappearance was being exploited by the media, by the public for cheap entertainment. It was sickening. After the lie detector results were read, Antonio asks Shameika why she doesn't take the test. Shameika says she doesn't have to, that she doesn't want to. It's a choice I honestly might make, too, as lie detectors have been proven to have no real validity, they're not even admissible in court. Steve Wilkos jumps in at this point, and at first he seems to defend Shameika.
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Steve Wilkos
You don't have to take a test, but you're not eliminating yourself as a suspect in the disappearance of new girls.
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Narrator
Let me tell you something. I talked to the police. I talked to the police day to day, and I'm not. They don't never discuss me. They discuss other people.
- [31:21]
Celisia Stanton
It's at this point that the clip really takes a turn for the worse. Here's what happened next.
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Steve Wilkos
I was the police, and I investigated murders, crimes against children, and I'll tell you right now, you would be number one on my list of people. I'd be looking at you number one.
- [31:39]
Celisia Stanton
At this point, Shameka defends herself, saying that the police already eliminated her as a suspect. The back and forth continues with Steve Wilkos saying she still has a good chance of being locked up. What happens next is almost stranger than fiction, as Steve Wilkos makes the completely unsubstantiated claim that maybe Shemeika killed Khalil Tatum. And it leads to a pretty dramatic conclusion.
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Steve Wilkos
You had an inappropriate relationship with that man.
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Narrator
I did.
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Steve Wilkos
You're lucky. You're lucky I'm lucky. What? Just saying you don't believe that he killed himself.
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Narrator
I don't. You can't shoot yourself in the head.
- [32:12]
Steve Wilkos
That's right. Maybe somebody else did it for him, huh?
- [32:14]
Narrator
Okay, so who did it? I ain't no murderer.
- [32:18]
Steve Wilkos
It ain't no murderer, huh?
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Narrator
Nope. My prince ain't on nothing.
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Steve Wilkos
You ain't no murderer, you say? And you know what? You're no good mother either. Get the out twice.
- [32:32]
Celisia Stanton
It made me sad to think that this was the value that we as a society place on little girls like Relisha, that cursing out a young black mother on stage is fun to watch. For me, this was true crime at its worst, devoid of any compassion or care, focused instead on ratings, rage, and punishment. According to Jonathan Hill of wamu, this would be the last time Shemeika agreed to sit down with any media. And while Shameika took the heat, the city of D.C. took none. Five months after D.C. mayor Vincent Gray ordered an investigation into the city's response to Relish's disappearance, the office of the Deputy Mayor would release a report documenting their findings. This report, which identified several areas as systemic failure, would ultimately conclude that, quote, the review team did not find evidence that these tragic events were preventable. And this, well, I found it pretty infuriating. Relish case at face value, seemed full of preventable measures. And so I read the whole report, and as I did, I found myself in a somewhat constant state of shock. For starters, the report opened by saying that, quote, staff from the deputy mayor's offices reviewed the family's files from all relevant service providers and interviewed 16 individuals. But because the review took place within the context of an ongoing criminal investigation, the reviewers did not have access to the information in the criminal investigative file or attempt to interview Relisha Rudd's mother. I'm sorry, but what. How is it even possible that a comprehensive review on this case can even be done without access to the investigative file and without speaking with Relisha Rudd's mother? At that point, we're talking about just completely leaving out critical details. But also, I thought the folks completing this review, they're the literal government. So, sure, maybe there's an argument to be made that the public shouldn't have access to an investigative file during an ongoing case, but the government conducting this review can't even get access to the police file months later, not even this small group of people. It was interesting to me that the policies of law enforcement that had thus far failed to do its job, find Relisha, or at least find out what happened to her, were being prioritized over the chance to conduct a truly comprehensive review, which could potentially prevent this sort of tragic event from happening ever again. But apparently, information sharing would be a recurring issue. The report would also Note that from September 2013 through March 2014, the deputy mayors found that multiple human service agencies were engaged with the family. The agencies knew of the involvement of the other agencies, but did not consistently share information or consistently convene team meetings, nor did they seek the consent of family members to share information. Therefore, information about the family's strengths and needs known by one agency, was not fully communicated to others, and the services were not coordinated. Relish family situation was complex. They were dealing with many different simultaneous stressors and hardships. So sharing information, it's. It's vital to giving them the holistic services and support that they need. And I mean, the report went on and on this way, listing off finding after finding, hole after hole that Relisha and her family fell through from the shelter staff who did not receive clinical supervision on engaging with families with complex needs, to the case notes taken on Relic's family, which did not contain enough detail to allow new staff to quickly and comprehensively understand the family's history and circumstances. The errors were many, but to the report's credit, after each finding they'd list off a number of suggested reforms, ways to plug the holes for future families. But ultimately their conclusion was the same. They'd write, even if all the policy recommendations in this report had been in place and fully implemented, the review team did not find evidence that these tragic events were preventable. The report would also state that large family shelters are no place to raise children and that the city needs to aggressively work towards other solutions for families in order to eliminate the need for these shelters in the first place. How ironic. The city of D.C. would say in one breath that homeless shelters are no place for families, and in the next that Relish's disappearance was inevitable. It's a sentiment which some social welfare experts completely disagree with, including folks at the Urban Institute who believe that a supportive housing program could have saved Relicia's life. In an article titled Reimagining Life for Relicia Rudd, Sara Gilsby, Mary Kay Cunningham, and Lionel Foster display two side by side timelines of Relisha's life. On the left is Relisha's story as we know it. On the right is a reimagined timeline, one where Relisha and her family never end up in D.C. general family shelter in the first place. In this reimagined view, the authors propose something new. What if instead of five years of housing instability, Relish's family had instead been referred to supportive housing? But what is supportive housing? Well, the authors write that supportive housing is designed for individuals and families with the most complex challengest those who are stuck in the revolving door of homeless shelters and crisis services. It pays the rent and provides additional assistance that can keep families in their homes. It offers safe, permanent, subsidized housing and services that are designed to end the trauma families experience during years of involvement with multiple systems and service plans. Supportive housing is holistic, and it also doesn't leave folks behind. In instances where challenges may prevent a family from paying their rent, they keep their housing. It's an approach which affirms the humanity of people by saying housing is a human right. It's one that folks at the Urban Institute believe could have changed Relish's story entirely. In the years since Relish's disappearance, some things have changed and some remain the same. In 2018, the D.C. general Family Shelter closed for good. And according to Sam Collins, writing for The Washington informer, 80 short term family housing units were opened in its place. An annual report from the Metropolitan Washington Council of Governments found that as of June 2020, the number of folks experiencing homelessness in D.C. fell for the fifth consecutive year. A good start, but still. It's been more than seven years since the day Relisha was reported missing and tragically, she remains unfound. And still no one knows what happened to her. In 2020, the National center for Missing and Exploited Children released an age progressed photo showing what Relisha may look like today. You can of course access the image on our website truercrimepodcast.com the photo is a gut wrenching reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Today, Relisha would be 15 years old. She should be in high school, making tiktoks with her friends, cheering at sports games, bossing around her little brothers. But she's not. And whose fault is it? It's a question Shannon Smith, Relish's former cheerleading coach, would answer for the Washington Post saying, who failed Relisha? I believe everybody failed that girl. The school, the system, the doctors, the police, and everybody else that should have had something to do with her. Relisha's life mattered, and she deserved so much more than the hand she was dealt. Aren't all children deserving of safety, no matter the resources they're born with? Don't we all deserve the chance to grow up? These questions are significant because in the years since Relish's disappearance, her story has fueled attention towards what some folks are calling other Relishes, the many, many kids harmed by systems that are not solid enough to protect them. It all points towards a question with life or death stakes. How many more militias? How many more? Until we decide enough is enough. In compiling action items related to Relisha's story, I was unfortunately unable to find anywhere that we could directly support Relisha's family. So instead I want to direct you towards Miriam's Kitchen, an organization in the D.C. area which works to support families like Relisha's. Their goal is to end chronic homelessness in D.C. and they do that through a supportive housing model like the one I mentioned in today's episode. Their services include free meal distribution, case management, a therapeutic art space, street outreach, system change and advocacy, and permanent supportive housing support. You can donate and learn more about all they do@miriamskitchen.org I also recommend you look into housing support organizations in your own community. If you live in Minneapolis like me, I recommend zakah, a grassroots organization that is community trusted and provides direct and rapid assistance to those facing poverty, the threat of eviction and displacement, and unsheltered homelessness. You can learn more and donate@zachah.org before we close out, I want to highlight a few key resources that were critical to the creation of this episode. First, the team of reporters at the Washington Post who followed this case and published numerous articles referenced in today's story. In particular, I'd like to thank Teresa Vargas who wrote or co wrote numerous pieces on Militia. Next, the Urban Institute's piece Reimagining Life for Alicia Rudd by Sarah Gillsby, Mary Kay Cunningham and Lionel Foster. This resource was so helpful in learning about supportive housing and guiding me through how supportive housing could have changed the trajectory of Alicia's life. Finally, Inside Edition's article six Years on Family of Relisha Rudd still has many Unanswered questions about 8 year old's disappearance by Johanna Lee was one of the many great resources that allowed me to hear direct perspectives of those closest to Relisha. As always, you can find a full list of sources used in this episode on the show. Notes for this episode on our website truecrimepodcast.com there's so much more to relish story than I was able to fit in today's episode, so if you'd like to learn more, I highly recommend WAMU and PRX's podcast through the Cracks. The podcast has eight episodes featuring interviews with many of those closest to Relisha and it goes deep into all the systems that failed to protect and support her and her family. Lastly, if you love true crime and want more from us between episodes, you can follow us on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook rearcrimepod. There you'll find some behind the scenes content, additional resources, episode highlights and more.