Episode 8: Sanctuary

This is an iHeart Podcast. Guaranteed human. I'm Nancy Glass, host of the Burden of Guilt Season 2 podcast. This is a story about a horrendous lie that destroyed two families. Late one night, Bobby Gumpright became the victim of a random crime. The perpetrator was sentenced to 99 years until a confession changed everything. I was a monster. Listen to Burden of Guilt Season 2 on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. When segregation was a law, one mysterious black club owner, Charlie Fitzgerald, had his own rules. Segregation in the day, integration at night. It was like stepping on another world. Was he a businessman, a criminal, a hero? Charlie was an example of power. they had to crush you Charlie's Place from Atlas Obscura and visit Myrtle Beach listen to Charlie's Place on the iHeartRadio app Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts this is Ryder Strong and I have a new podcast called The Red Weather in 1995 my neighbor Anna Traynor disappeared from a commune it was nature and trees and praying and drugs no I am not your guru back then I lied to everybody They have had this case for 30 years. I'm going back to my hometown to uncover the truth. Listen to The Red Weather on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey everyone, it's Emily Simpson and Shane Simpson from the Legally Brunette podcast. Each week we're bringing you true crime through a legal lens. Whether you want all the facts on the disappearance of Nancy Guthrie, or you still need to wrap your head around the ditty verdict, We're breaking it all down step by step. And we're not just lawyers. We're also husband and wife. It makes for some pretty entertaining episodes. Listen to Legally Brunette on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Wells Adams with By Order of the Faithfuls podcast alongside my fellow faithfuls and co-hosts Tamara Judge and Dolores Catania. The three of us have been watching this season of The Traitors, and we've been inside that castle. so we have insight unlike many others. This season of The Traders may be the best we've ever seen. Listen to By Order of the Faithfuls on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. A warning. This episode discusses youth depression and suicide. These topics may be distressing for some listeners. The Kirksville suicides took place in 2016 and 2017. The police investigation into Brandon Grossheim's role in these deaths started at some point during that time. The investigation wound down in 2019. And though he was never charged criminally in any of the deaths, the last decade has been incredibly stressful for Brandon. Even beyond so many of his friends killing themselves His hopes and dreams began to unravel He was kicked out of his fraternity and dropped out of Truman State His story was splashed across headlines And his name was utterly ruined on Google His professional dreams were shattered as well At one point he wanted to be a writer But now that was not going to happen He continued living in Kirksville for a while after the suicides, working at the local pizzeria. But the infamy he'd developed followed him around. It clearly weighed on him, and he began drinking heavily, according to an old roommate. Eventually, he'd had enough of Kirksville and headed back home, about three and a half hours southeast, to Alton, Illinois. Alton is where Brandon grew up. It's an old river town across the Mississippi River from St. Louis. Producer Ryan and I visited the place recently. We really wanted to talk to Brandon Grossheim for this podcast. We wanted to give him the opportunity to defend himself, to explain his behaviors and actions. And so Ryan and I did everything we could to reach out to him. We tried emailing him. We tried calling him. We went through his lawyer. We hit up his social media. And then, when all else failed, we went to his house. This podcast series tells the story of the most infamous suicide cluster in American history. It's a production of iHeart Podcasts and Cool Fire Studios. I'm your host, Ben Westhoff, along with Ryan Krull. This is The Peacemaker. Ryan and I are based in St. Louis, so it wasn't a long drive to Alton. About 40 minutes. Some parts of the city are very wealthy, with gorgeous old houses. Brandon Grossheim, however, lives in a different part of town. In his neighborhood, vinyl siding hangs loosely on the sides of homes. Rusting old cars dot the backyards. When we arrived to Brandon's house, we saw there were no cars in the driveway. The front window was open, however, so we thought maybe he was there. It was a modest one-story house with junk scattered around the premises. Really, it had the messy vibe of a place where a college kid might live, though Brandon is now 28. All right, here we go. All right. We went up to the door and knocked. Hello? No one answered, so we left a note for Brandon, telling him who we were, what we were doing with this podcast, and that we'd come back later. And then, since we were in the area, we decided to give his parents a visit. His parents live not far away, but in a nicer neighborhood. They have a brick ranch house with some Catholic statues in the front garden. Not too different from many St. Louis area homes, really. We cautiously approached the entrance. As we got closer, some dogs started barking from inside. And then we saw a note posted in the window by the front door. Do not knock crazy dogs. It read, do not knock crazy dogs. Shit will get real. Send me a text if I know you. Since we didn't know them and didn't have their number, we didn't know what to do. Huh. That's a real bind word then. The line in the note that stood out to us was, shit will get real. Still, we really wanted to talk to them. And we noted that, though it said, do not knock, it didn't say anything about ringing the doorbell. And so we rang the doorbell. The dogs did indeed go crazy. They were numerous. Bully breeds, it looked like. And they got up on the sofa right next to the window by where we were standing, baring their teeth. It was a little scary. And then still, no one answered. There were cars in the driveway, so who knows if they were actually home. But they clearly didn't want to talk to us or anybody. And I'm certain that's because of all the media attention related to their son. A few years back, they'd complained that camera crews had shown up to their house and set up right on their front lawn. In 2019, Brandon's parents also established a GoFundMe account to pay for Brandon's legal fees. On the GoFundMe page, Brandon's mother wrote, Brandon has been falsely accused and is living a nightmare. We want him to get his life back and appreciate all the help we can get. As of this year, it had raised $2,685 from 30 donations. In any case, when no one answered at Brandon's parents' house, Ryan and I went out to dinner. Then we returned to Brandon's place. Our expectations weren't high that he'd actually be there by now, and plus we were worried that we were creeping around the neighborhood too much. but when we arrived back there he was he'd returned from wherever he'd gone and he was standing outside his house smoking something he had the same light brown hair he'd always had but now he had a bunch more facial hair as well he wore a St. Louis Cardinals t-shirt and he looked irritated he was reading the note we'd left him Ryan and I got out of our car and approached but when he saw us, he immediately began shaking his head. He'd clearly realized we were the people who wrote the note. But when I tried to introduce myself, Brandon immediately cut me off saying something like, no comment. It was hard to hear exactly what he said but his body language communicated that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with us. He waved his hands back and forth in front of his face like, go away. He put out his smoke and went inside his house. And so we shrugged our shoulders. We turned around, got back in our car, and went home. It was too bad. We were hoping to understand what life was like for Brandon now that he was back home. We didn't know much about his life these days. For one thing, he changed his social media settings to private because so many people kept posting nasty things on his pages. One person he hadn't blocked was his fraternity brother, Connor Templeton. I have him on my Snapchat. I can see his Snapchat stories every now and then. So he still posts? Yep. What I can remember, I want to say he's got a 3D printer and he makes Pokemon, to be honest with you. If I can remember the last thing I saw. He posted some cicadas recently. This was more than a year ago. But on a separate trip to Alton, we talked with someone who'd spent time with Brandon fairly recently. That person was Brandon's former theater colleague from their high school days. We heard from him earlier in the series. He didn't want his name used. He and Brandon aren't best buds, but they have friends in common. One night not that long ago, a big group of them were hanging out at a local bar. It was very, very weird that several years on, this was like the first time I had talked to him. Or maybe first or second time I had talked to him since that all happened. Brandon's old theater mate had no intention of bringing up the Kirksville suicide cluster. He was not going to go there. But then Brandon himself brought it up. I remember he kind of cornered me and was kind of talking to me about like what I'm doing and what he's doing and whatever. And he just like he brought the whole case thing up. He was just kind of like fucking acting like a victim about it, to be honest with you. He was just like kind of like, oh, well, my life's shitty now, obviously, because, you know, this whole thing happened. And like, you know, I'm working at he worked at like a junk hallway place. This is true, actually, about the junk hallway place. We found information about Brandon's employment on Reddit, of all places. It was a subreddit dedicated to Hoarders TV on an Ask Me Anything thread entitled, I work at 1-800-GOT-JUNK. I've done hoarder houses. Ask me questions. A guy who posted in the comments didn't have a question. He just had a comment. and he didn't seem to know Brandon personally. He wrote, There is a worker in the St. Louis region named Brandon Grossheim. He made five to seven people at Truman State kill themselves. He was a psychology major who gave all these people papers step by step on how to deal with depression. All these people had Brandon's name and email on a paper when they passed. If you work there, give these kids some fucking justice. This comment is full of typos and misinformation. Clearly, the author doesn't really know what he's talking about. And it also seems to be a call to action. As far as I can tell, the author appears to be saying, if you work with Brandon, you should harm him. Pretty scary stuff. And to be honest, it gives me some sympathy for Brandon. Think what you will about him, but he's never been convicted of a crime. And yet he can get a decent job because of everything written about him You might think that fair He been accused of some heinous things at least some of which appear to be true But I personally believe he should be able to at least earn a meager living without worrying that one of his 1-800-JUNK co-workers is going to drop a sofa on his head. Shouldn't he? I'm Nancy Glass, host of the Burden of Guilt Season 2 podcast. This is a story about a horrendous lie that destroyed two families. Late one night, Bobby Gumpright became the victim of a random crime. He pulls the gun, tells me to lie down on the ground. He identified Jermaine Hudson as the perpetrator. Jermaine was sentenced to 99 years. I'm like, Lord, this can't be real. I thought it was a mistaken identity. The best lie is partial truth. For 22 years, only two people knew the truth. Until a confession changed everything. I was a monster. Listen to Burden of Guilt Season 2 on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. In 2023, a story gripped the UK, evoking horror and disbelief. The nurse who should have been in charge of caring for tiny babies is now the most prolific child killer in modern British history. Everyone thought they knew how it ended. A verdict, a villain, a nurse named Lucy Letby. Lucy Letby has been found guilty. But what if we didn't get the whole story? The moment you look at the whole picture, the case collapses. I'm Amanda Knox, and in the new podcast, Doubt, the case of Lucy Letby, we follow the evidence and hear from the people that lived it to ask what really happened when the world decided who Lucy Letby was. No voicing of any skepticism or doubt. It'll cause so much harm at every single level if the British establishment of this is wrong. Listen to Doubt, The Case of Lucy Letby on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is Ryder Strong with a podcast called The Red Weather. In 1995, my neighbor, Anna Traynor, disappeared from a commune. It was nature and trees and praying and drugs. So no, I am not your guru. Back then, I lied to everybody. They have had this case for 30 years. I'm going back to my hometown to uncover the truth. You can now binge all episodes of The Red Weather on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Segregation in the day, integration at night. When segregation was the law, one mysterious Black club owner had his own rules. We didn't worry about what went on outside. It was like stepping on another world. Inside Charlie's Place, Black and white people danced together. But not everyone was happy about it. You saw the KKK? Yeah, they were dressed up in their uniform. The KKK set out to raid Charlie, take him away from here. Charlie was an example of power. They had to crush him. From Atlas Obscura, Rococo Punch, and Visit Myrtle Beach comes Charlie's Place, a story that was nearly lost to time. Until now. Listen to Charlie's Place on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. he told me. We're talking about turning a book into a hit show and what it really takes to bring a story to life. The most important metric for me is do I want to share this book with somebody? That's what creates community. And that's the main thesis of our book club and why we started it was just to connect people together. Listen to The Bookmarked by Risa's Book Club podcast on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. All right, so now it's time for something I've been dreading. It's time for us to give our take on Brandon Grosheim. Everyone I talk to about this podcast has the same question for me. Is he guilty? Is he innocent? And considering that producer Ryan and I have spent more time looking into his case than just about anyone else, It only seems right that we offer our conclusions. Because, for one thing, the media reporting on this story has been really bad. Take a headline from CNN.com, dated August 3rd, 2019. It reads, A fraternity member gave step-by-step directions to five people who then killed themselves, a lawsuit alleges. This is really irresponsible. It makes it sound like Brandon wrote down directions on how to kill yourself and then handed them out to all the suicide victims. That's just not true. Yes, the step-by-step quote has a basis in fact. It comes from a Kirksville police report, which references Brandon's comments to a guidance counselor named Nicole Sammons. He told her he, quote, made sure to let all of his friends know that he was there for them and gave them advice and step-by-step directions on how to deal with things like depression. So, step-by-step directions on how to deal with depression, not step-by-step directions on how to kill themselves like the CNN headline implies. In fairness, I also partly blamed the lawsuit against Brandon, which CNN quoted. The lawsuit is also misleading in a number of ways. But then again, it's up to CNN to do fact-checking, which they clearly didn't. You might say, well, the media is always sensationalistic. That's what they do. That's true, but in this case, the media coverage has changed the opinions of people who actually knew Brandon. It has skewed their realities. Take Connor Templeton, Brandon's former fraternity brother. After the suicides at the Alpha Kappa Lambda house, Connor dropped out of school at Truman State. At this time, Connor seemed to have sympathy for Brandon. Like, when I left Truman, all I think is, you know, this poor kid found five bodies, and I remember leaving him. I even left him my Xbox and all my games. So, like, oh, this poor kid. I had to go through all this. So at the time, you know, I didn't think there was any foul or malicious play. But, I mean, then you look back on it and I read things and find out things. I'm looking at reading the New Yorker article and just kind of thinking back on it. How do you come across four out of five bodies? You know? First of all, Brandon only discovered two of the bodies. The New Yorker story didn't get this wrong, but other outlets did. And so it appears somewhere along the way, the media managed to turn Connor against Brandon, even though Connor was right there when this was all happening. And he was initially sympathetic. Other people who were swayed by the media coverage include the father and stepmother of Glenna Hawke, the young woman who died from a ruptured liver. Brandon was the last person to see her alive. Her father and stepmother became convinced through the media reports that Glenna's death may have been Brandon's responsibility. I think after reading and putting together all the pieces, I think there's a good possibility that it was Brandon. Because it kind of all fits, because I've read a lot of the articles about the other boys and him, and it seems to fit. Indeed, there remain many unanswered questions about Brandon's interactions with Glenna right before her death. But what doesn't make sense is what Glenna's father and stepmother say the medical examiner told them. He said it's a suspicious death because of all the blood. And the circumstances, that she was alone. And he mentioned blood. I'm not sure what to make of this. None of the police reports say anything at all about blood, and the police scoured practically every inch of the apartment where she died. The point is, all of these years later, the story has taken on a life of its own, one that's unmoored from fact. That's why passing judgment on Brandon is difficult. So to help form my opinion, I read the conclusions other journalists have come to, journalists I respect. First, there's the New Yorker article about Brandon Grosheim from 2021, which is probably the best-known story about this case. It's written by a reporter named D.T. Maxx. He appears to give Brandon the benefit of the doubt, ending his story with a sympathetic quote. This quote comes from an anonymous source. All we know about the person giving the quote is that he or she was friends with the second suicide victim, Jake Hughes. Brandon isn't perfect, reads the quote. The friends we lost weren't perfect. We aren't perfect either. And that's as close as we can get to real closure. Another journalist I admire, however, named Jeanette Cooperman, has a different take. In an article for The Common Reader in 2022, she wrote, One of the tragedies of young suicide, and maybe the biggest reason for its contagion, is that at that age, a lot of people only trust what comes back from someone who is as messed up as they are, searching just as hard. That is what put Brandon Groszheim at the center of five deaths. If these events had unfolded several years later, and he had a degree in psychology and sensitive, well-rehearsed clinical skills, he might have persuaded his friends to seek help. Instead, he offered that help himself, leaving them with a terrible freedom that I would argue was not free at all. I believe that's well put, and it dovetails with some of the comments I heard from Rita Leshevsky. She's the suicide prevention trainer from Milwaukee, whom we've been talking to in this series. Brandon had visions of grandeur as to who and what he could accomplish. He was weighing over his head and what he tried to do was unsuccessful. As a result of that, I believe he precipitated and continued that behavior in order to make himself feel better about himself, to make himself feel more a part of things. Now, do I believe Brandon Grossheim is a murderer? No. Do I think he should be held criminally liable for the deaths of these five young people in Kirksville? No. But he seems to have led them down the wrong path. He was basically the world's shittiest guidance counselor. He was so confident, so delusional, that he managed to convince a bunch of impressionable kids that he knew what he was talking about. Now, remember that all the suicide victims had tried killing themselves previously. And as far as we know, he didn't try talking any of them out of trying it again. And that really is your only job when you're talking to someone who's suicidal. Because as much as you might think that you're supporting someone by respecting their choices, you're really not. College can be an incredibly depressing time. I cringe now just thinking how sorry I felt for myself back when I was in school. But most people eventually come out of it. You cut back on your binge drinking, you get rid of toxic influences, you find a stable romantic partner, whatever. You learn to cope. There was a whole world awaiting these victims, and now they'll never get to see it. I Nancy Glass host of the Burden of Guilt Season 2 podcast This is a story about a horrendous lie that destroyed two families Late one night, Bobby Gumpright became the victim of a random crime. He pulls the gun. Tells me to lie down on the ground. He identified Jermaine Hudson as the perpetrator. Jermaine was sentenced to 99 years. I'm like, Lord, this can't be real. I thought it was a mistaken identity. The best lie is partial truth. For 22 years, only two people knew the truth. Until a confession changed everything. I was a monster. Listen to Burden of Guilt Season 2 on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. In 2023, a story gripped the UK, evoking horror and disbelief. The nurse who should have been in charge of caring for tiny babies is now the most prolific child killer in modern British history. Everyone thought they knew how it ended. A verdict, a villain, a nurse named Lucy Letby. Lucy Letby has been found guilty. But what if we didn't get the whole story? The moment you look at the whole picture, the case collapses. I'm Amanda Knox, and in the new podcast, Doubt, the case of Lucy Letby, we follow the evidence and hear from the people that lived it to ask what really happened when the world decided who Lucy Letby was. No voicing of any skepticism or doubt. It'll cause so much harm at every single level if the British establishment of this is wrong. Listen to Doubt, the case of Lucy Letby on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is Ryder Strong with a podcast called The Red Weather. In 1995, my neighbor, Anna Traynor, disappeared from a commune. It was nature and trees and praying and drugs. No, I am not your guru. Back then, I lied to everybody. They have had this case for 30 years. I'm going back to my hometown to uncover the truth. You can now binge all episodes of The Red Weather on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Segregation in the day, integration at night. When segregation was the law, one mysterious Black club owner had his own rules. We didn't worry about what went on outside. It was like stepping on another world. Inside Charlie's place, Black and white people danced together. But not everyone was happy about it. You saw the KKK? Yeah. They were just dressed up in there. uniform. The KKK set out to raid Charlie, take him away from here. Charlie was an example of power. They had to crush him. From Atlas Obscura, Rococo Punch, and Visit Myrtle Beach comes Charlie's Place, a story that was nearly lost to time. Until now. Listen to Charlie's Place on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Danielle Robay, host of Bookmarked, the podcast by Reese's Book Club. And this week on Bookmarked, we're basically hosting the ultimate girls' night. Reese Witherspoon, Jennifer Garner, Judy Greer, Rita Wilson, and Gauri Rice, and author Laura Dave. These are the women behind season two of the Apple TV series, The Last Thing He Told Me. We're talking about turning a book into a hit show and what it really takes to bring a story to life. The most important metric for me is do I want to share this book with somebody? That's what creates community. And that's the main thesis of our book club and why we started it was just to connect people together. Listen to The Bookmarked by Risa's Book Club podcast on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Unlike the suicide victims, Brandon Grossheim didn't have to pay the ultimate price. But it's fair to say that his life was ruined. He once had big dreams, but now he can barely keep an entry-level job. This is why I believe that Brandon has already been punished by society enough. Listen, he can't make any of this right. Not by paying out what little money he has, and not by an official admonishment from the justice system. I strongly suspect he's already beaten himself up enough about this. I don't think this guy is a danger to anyone anymore. Ultimately, I don't think a civil lawsuit is the answer. But that's just me. What do you think, Producer Ryan? Yeah, I really do appreciate what you're saying, but I think there is a little bit of nuance here between the five different cases. Okay, interesting. Yeah, I think that Brandon, he really looks the worst when it comes to the AKL suicide, the Alex Mullins, the Jake Hughes, and the Josh Thomas cases specifically. Why is that? Well, I think it comes down to the fact that Brandon, you know, he really had a sway over those three guys. He was their fraternity brother. And that's a really important relationship whenever you're in college. You can really exert a lot of influence on someone. And also, Brandon would have for sure known about these guys' history, their substance abuse, their history of depression, that kind of thing. He would have known about the previous suicide attempts, for instance. And I know there's still this big if about whether or not Brandon actually instructed these guys to take their own lives. We don't have direct evidence of that. We don't know exactly what he said to them privately. From all the circumstantial evidence we have, it seems really possible that he may have encouraged these guys to take their own lives. You know, when it comes to some of them, it's a really open question. Okay. And then what about the other two deaths? Yeah, I just don't see him having that much sway over Oleg's vote or Glenna Haught. You know, with them, he didn't have that strong fraternity bond. You know, with them, Brandon was more just like a guy from down the hall. So do you believe that in some of these deaths, he's like actually a victim? Well, he may have painted himself as a victim, maybe as a coping mechanism. You know, every stroke of bad luck was to him just further proof that he got a raw deal. I don't know. I think he should be allowed to go on with his life. You know, something he really can't do with this lawsuit hanging over his head. I mean, he's been the subject of police scrutiny for nine plus years at this point. Yeah, that's totally fair. But at the same time, I can understand why the parents of the victims would feel like the civil lawsuits, their only chance at any kind of justice in this case. You know, it's important to keep in mind that the civil lawsuit, when it goes to trial, there's going to be this intense Q&A, you know, with Brandon on the stand. He'll be under oath and he's going to have to make his story make sense. And there's going to be a very savvy lawyer, you know, trying to poke holes in everything he says. So I think it'll be really revelatory, you know, no matter what happens. That's true. You're right. I'll be very curious to hear what Brandon has to say. Yeah. I mean, no matter what the outcome is, it's going to be interesting. No doubt. Well, thank you, Ryan. Yeah, of course. We talked before about how the story of the Kirksville suicide cluster has taken on a life of its own. That's particularly true at Truman State. We visited the campus not long ago to try to understand the legacies of these suicides and to see if people there were still talking about Brandon Grosheim nine years later. So what have you heard about the suicides? I heard that it was a student kind of like driving other students that were also in a hard mental state to like go over the edge and like kill themselves. So that's about the extent I would say. Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah. I heard it was like on campus, right? In someone's room. Like in their room. I guess I don't really know much. I feel like all I've ever heard is rumors. like I don't know. Yeah. That was Chloe Schwab and Maya Forl. We also talked to their friend, Jesse Bruce. Yeah. Are you guys involved with the Greek system? Yeah. What's your sorority? We're in Tri Sigma, so Sigma Sigma Sigma. Yeah. And I know a lot of the fraternities are, and like sororities are different now than they were like back then. Like it used to be, like there was a lot more fraternities I would say like a few years ago, but now it's not. And I would say that the fraternities do very much shed light onto suicide prevention. Like one in particular, like Sigep or Sigma Phi Absalom, their whole philanthropy is based on suicide prevention. I've heard about that, actually. Yeah, they do. One thing I didn't initially realize was that even after the suicide cluster in 2016 and 2017, which we've been discussing on this podcast, there were more suicides still to come in the Truman State University Greek system. In October 2018, a senior named Abigail Fones took her own life. She was a member of a national honor fraternity called Phi Sigma Pi. Three years later, a member of a more traditional fraternity killed himself. His name was Nate Aldrich. He was a member of Sigma Phi Epsilon, or SIGAP, which, as the sorority girls just mentioned, has turned its focus to suicide prevention. Neither of these two deaths appear to have had anything to do with Brandon Grossheim. Nonetheless, one imagines all these suicides must have had widespread ramifications for Truman State. That's why I was surprised when I traded emails with the school's director of public relations, Travis Miles. He claimed, quote, there are no long-term effects on campus from the suicides. But, he added, the only exception might be progress in regard to mental health awareness and services. Indeed, since then, the school has enlisted a new provider overseeing health and counseling services called Complete Family Medicine. One thing Miles didn't mention, however, is that Truman State's enrollment has declined precipitously in recent years. In 2016, the year the suicides began, Truman had about 6,400 students. But that number fell in the coming years, to about 5,200 in 2019, all the way down to 3,600 today, according to their website. These numbers are striking. They show that since the suicides and all the negative press that followed, Truman State has lost about 44% of their students. It's impossible to know how much of that enrollment decline came from the suicides, of course. Some of it was because of COVID, although the numbers began declining well before the pandemic. Another fact to note, before the suicides, Truman State was Kirksville's biggest employer. Nowadays, however, when it comes to putting people to work, Truman State has been dethroned. Now, Kirksville's biggest employer is a Kraft Heinz plant. I saw it on the outskirts of town. It's the one with the Wienermobile sitting out in front. Kraft and Heinz merged back in 2015, and this particular plant specializes in processing cold cuts. The rise of the Kraft Heinz plant and the decline of Truman State have intersected in some interesting ways, says Dalton McVeigh, the former Truman State student. The Centennial Hall residence on Truman State campus has been converted into some sort of temporary housing situation for the migrant workers at the, I believe it's exclusively for Kraft's manufacturing plant here in town. Also related is the fact that, as mentioned earlier, following the suicide cluster, Alpha Kappa Lambda shut down. The brotherhood basically fell apart after the deaths, Dalton McVeigh told The Daily Beast. But the former Alpha Kappa Lambda house still stands. Same columns, same blue awning. In fact, the house still has AKL's faded fraternity crest near the front door. We visited the place with Dalton, who was Brandon Grossheim's former roommate and a former AKL member. He took us to the house and, from the outside, pointed to the rooms where some of the suicides happened. And just for context, when you're listening to this clip, keep in mind that Dalton had just gotten stoned. Yeah, this window right here on the back side, because there's rooms, a hallway, another side on the back of room. And on the back side here in that window that was the room where I had stayed over the summer and I believe that the same room where like Alex was on that night that he took his own life And what about Jake That was Jake. Alex was over the summer. Oh, you were talking about Jake. Oh, did I have to say Alex? Yeah, I think you said Alex, but yeah. A little bit woozy for THC. Eventually, we knocked on the front door. A couple answered. They were in their 30s, maybe, from the Democratic Republic of Congo. They didn't want their names used, but they told us that many of the people now living in the former AKL fraternity house were Congolese migrants who worked at the Kraft Heinz plant. The former AKL building also functioned as a daycare and a church for this population. I asked the couple more questions about themselves. He said he was a minister and their church was called the Ark of the Covenant. How many people died here? Three. Four? Three. Three. Three. Three. Men or men? Men. Men? It was all men living here. These are the three. Ah, these three people? Yeah. Oh, okay. Oh, my God. While we were looking at the photos of the Alpha Kappa Lambda suicide victims, the Congolese woman asked her daughter to translate. The daughter was maybe about middle school age. My mom said she saw the chemistry, so she was saying she died first. Who died first? That'd be Alex Mullins. Him in the middle. Un, deux, trois. How many people? Three? Three. Three. I must admit, I was completely taken off guard by that question. Why did the people die? Sure, we spent eight episodes trying to answer that question. But in the moment, we really didn't know what to say. life is hard sometimes i don't know yeah i think it's on people hard to say the hope they just kind of lose hope lose the will to live i don't know for me maybe the people died because you know pride jesus maybe yeah you can pride Jesus. You have the life because Jesus gives you the life. You know, Jesus is good. Now, listen, I can't speak to whether these boys needed Jesus. Maybe it wasn't the most tactful comment for her to make under the circumstances. But I tried to understand the woman's perspective of someone who arrived here from one of the poorest countries on earth. The average salary in the Democratic Republic of Congo is something like $450 per year. I could see how it was difficult for her to understand how these kids, who'd seemingly had everything they needed, could make this type of decision. The language barrier prohibited me from expressing these sentiments coherently. But we chatted for a few more minutes, and on a separate visit, the couple agreed to show producer Ryan around the house. So what was it like, Ryan? Well, they were definitely cautious, definitely wary of me. It was hard to explain what I was doing, hard to explain, you know, about this podcast. Probably the most startling change was the room that used to be the party barn. Oh, yeah, the party barn. That was where, like, the fraternity had their ragers and it had the grates on the floor where you swept the beer into. Yeah, yeah, that's the one. So did the room still look like a barn? Yeah, it was wide, and it still had the high ceilings, obviously. But now the walls were draped with linens, and the room was outfitted with rows and rows of chairs, spruced up by colored sheets and these giant sashes, and there was a podium and an altar in the front. You know, it had been turned into a sanctuary. Wow, the party barn was turned into a sanctuary. That's amazing. Yeah, yeah. On the stage, there was a set of keyboards and a drum kit, these big speakers. It sort of looked like a church you might see, you know, almost anywhere else from the inside. I bet the place got pretty rocking. I bet it does. Thanks, Ryan. You're welcome. If there's one thing we've learned doing this podcast, it's that youth suicide is a persistent problem that's not going away. Suicide rates in America have been rising for years, not just for early 20-somethings and teens, but even for preteens. But it's not always that difficult to see the signs. In fact, according to Rita Leshevsky, the suicide prevention trainer from Milwaukee, young adults are more likely than any other age group to actually tell someone they're planning to kill themselves. And the reaction from the person who is hearing this is often disbelief. and what? What are you, stupid? What do you think of doing that? What are you doing that? And the response is really important at that point, you know, to calmly say. And of course, where are you going to go for assistance? We have that 988 number, which is a wonderful resource that can contribute to loss of suicide rates. How to deal with the loss of someone close to you is also an incredible challenge. That's been the struggle faced by Melissa Boddorf-Ary, the mother of Alex Mullins, who was the first to die in the Kirksville, Missouri, suicide cluster. Melissa raised Alex in the Kansas City area, but she now lives in Florida. Following Alex's death, she tried everything she could think of, from energy healing, yoga, meditation, and journaling. She earned a certificate as a grief coach and self-published six books. She also hosts a podcast focused on grief called The Leftover Pieces, Suicide Loss Conversations. The podcast, and I've never hidden behind this, the podcast was as much for me as it was for my listeners to start with, because I had to create the podcast I couldn't find. I couldn't take in the written word the way I used to, because the grief, the brain fog that comes in after the loss of a child by suicide is immense. Over time, her devastation over Alex's death has fueled a new purpose in her life. She says that at the end of the day, her mission is to create a community. I have built a community of a place that grieving moms can come. The podcast is for all suicide loss gravers, but everything I do inside my community is for moms. My email list is pretty large. I have hundreds of women signed up for a couple of my different support groups. So unfortunately, thousands and thousands. And then there's Terry Yardley. Remember him? The motorcycle enthusiast they call Smokey? He has also found purpose in his life after the death of his girlfriend, Glenna Haught. To remember her, he got tattoos on his forearm in her honor. Her initials and a rose. And the meaning behind that is she had a rose tattoo from one of her best friends when she grew up that passed away. And she had his initials hidden in it. Well, she likes roses, so. And Terry has dedicated himself to helping others beat their problems with alcohol. Once I lost her, that's been one of my biggest missions, is to find people that are drunks. Well, I don't go out of my way to look for them, but to notice the problem and try to be there to help. Give them that push. Give them that support. Be hard on them, but not too hard on them at the same time. Like, no, you don't need that beer today. You don't need that today. You don't need it right now. You don't need a second beer in 10 minutes or whatever. Just being there. Like, I'm here for you, dude. If you don't want to drink, let's not drink. Let's figure out something else to do. Melissa and Terry are just a small fraction of the people whose lives have been upended by the Kirksville deaths. There were so many others who were the victim's friends, their families, the people who loved them. For the survivors, there is no end to the suffering. That's why some of them are hoping they'll receive some closure when it comes to the civil case against Brandon Grossheim. His day in court is coming. The lawsuit filed against him by the parents of Alex Mullins and Josh Thomas is scheduled to be heard in federal court next year. It will bring many of the main characters of our story together, including Brandon Grossheim and Melissa Bodorf-Ary. Who knows? Maybe even Terry Yardley will ride his hog down from Kirksville. So thanks for listening, and we'll say goodbye for now. But this most likely is not the end. The trial is currently scheduled for June 15, 2026. We will be here for it to report on all of the new twists and turns in this case that have not yet been revealed, and to give context and understanding to a story that has been so confounding to so many people. So be sure to look out for us in your feed when the case comes to trial. This has been The Peacemaker. The Peacemaker is a production of Cool Fire Studios and iHeart Podcasts. It's hosted by me, Ben Westhoff, and Ryan Krull. Our executive producers are Jeff Keen, David Johnson, and Steve Lubert. Music and audio engineering by Brent Johnson. Executive producers for iHeart Podcasts are Katrina Norvell and Nikki Etor. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, there are resources available to you. Please call the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline, 988. I'm Nancy Glass, host of the Burden of Guilt Season 2 podcast. This is a story about a horrendous lie that destroyed two families. Late one night, Bobby Gumpright became the victim of a random crime. The perpetrator was sentenced to 99 years until a confession changed everything. I was a monster. Listen to Burden of Guilt Season 2 on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It makes for some pretty entertaining episodes. Listen to Legally Brunette on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. When segregation was a law, one mysterious black club owner, Charlie Fitzgerald, had his own rules. Segregation in the day, integration at night. It was like stepping on another world. Was he a businessman, a criminal, a hero? Charlie was an example of power. they had to crush him. Charlie's Place from Atlas Obscura and visit Myrtle Beach. Listen to Charlie's Place on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Wells Adams with By Order of the Faithfuls podcast alongside my fellow faithfuls and co-hosts Tamara Judge and Dolores Catania. The three of us have been watching this season of The Traders and we've been inside that castle. So we have insight unlike many others. This season of The Traders may be the best we've ever seen. Listen to by Order of the Faithfuls on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is Ryder Strong, and I have a new podcast called The Red Weather. In 1995, my neighbor, Anna Traynor, disappeared from a commune. It was nature and trees and praying and drugs. So no, I am not your guru. Back then, I lied to everybody. They have had this case for 30 years. I'm going back to my hometown to uncover the truth. Listen to The Red Weather on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an iHeart Podcast. Guaranteed human.