American Scandal - The Woman Who Sold Babies | The Cold Hard Hand | 4

Episode Date: June 10, 2025

As the 1940s draws to a close, Georgia Tann is still making thousands from her black-market baby ring. But although she’s been untouchable for the last two decades, a shift in Memphis’s political climate signals trouble.Be the first to know about Wondery’s newest podcasts, curated recommendations, and more! Sign up now at https://wondery.fm/wonderynewsletterListen to American Scandal on the Wondery App or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season. Unlock exclusive early access by joining Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial today by visiting wondery.com/links/american-scandal/ now.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Want to get more from American Scandal? Subscribe to Wondery Plus for early access to new episodes, ad-free listening, and exclusive content you can't find anywhere else. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. A listener note. This episode contains depictions of child abuse and is not suitable for all audiences. To protect their privacy, we have changed the names of some children involved in this story. It's June 1946 in an affluent neighborhood of Memphis, Tennessee. 55-year-old Georgia Tan stands by the stove in the kitchen of her large two-story home.

She's taken the day off of work. She's feeling tired lately and hasn't wanted to leave the house. Things she chalked up to the cancer diagnosis she got last year. But she doesn't just like sitting around doing nothing, so she's decided to make a batch of blackberry jam. just like sitting around doing nothing, so she's decided to make a batch of blackberry jam. Tan glances up from the fruit bubbling on the stove, and through the open doorway she hears her maid's muffled footsteps cross the hallway to the front door. A few moments later, her lawyer, Abe Waldauer, walks into the kitchen. Oh, that smells good. Blackberry jam. There's a jar on the counter for you.

Waldauer isn't just Tan's lawyer. He also represents the Tennessee Children's Home Society and is a member of the organization's board. He's spent years making sure no one can ever lay a hand on Georgia Tan or the TCHS in court. How are you feeling today? Oh, a little tired, but otherwise I'm fine. These pills are marvelous.

She taps the pocket of her apron, rattling the prescription bottle inside. After her cancer diagnosis, Tan decided not to proceed with surgery or other treatments. Instead, she only requested drugs to manage the pain. So what's on your mind? We've received a letter from the Department of Welfare. Oh, and what do those bureaucrats want now? It's Judge Bates, actually. He's got them all riled up, repeating some stories about sick children he's heard from doctors.

Tan gives the jam a sharp stir. A mixture pops and hisses. And what doctors are these? Croswell, some others, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that Judge Bates is refusing to approve any more of our adoptions unless you step down or we prove the allegations are false. Oh, I don't have time for this nonsense. He thinks he has some leverage. Well, does he? The welfare department is demanding an investigation into his complaint. Oh, that's ridiculous, but they've asked me to lead it.

Tan smiles. Oh, well, I'm sure you'll do a very thorough job, Abe. You always do. We'll have to make it look convincing. So I'll need your approval to bill for an appropriate number of hours. Once I have that, I'll start preparing the results to deliver to the state, and we can put this whole thing behind us. Oh, Abe, bill as many hours as you need. Just make this go away. All right, understood.

Waldauer turns to go, but before he reaches the door, Tan calls out. Oh, and Abe, don't forget your jam. Abe Waldauer will make sure that his investigation clears Tan of all wrongdoing and ends any further scrutiny of the TCHS. But it won't be enough to satisfy Judge Bates, who will continue to nurse suspicions, so the danger to Georgia Tann hasn't passed, and the empire she's spent more than two decades building is about to crumble. Looking for the ultimate online casino experience?

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of charge. L.T. is getting spilled. Y'all know I do it all, but this podcast is where I get to be my whole entire self with my people. And that means you, of course. So come through and join your girl. Watch, baby, this is Keke Palmer on YouTube or subscribe on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. ["Wonderful Wonders"] From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American Scam. By the end of World War II, Georgia Tann had dominated the adoption industry in Memphis,

Tennessee for almost 20 years. She gained a foothold in the city thanks to her friendship with its political kingpin, Edward Boss Crump. But from there, her influence had only spread. With a network of influential clients and a gift for self-promotion, Tan became America's most recognized adoption advocate. But Tan did not promote adoption from the goodness of her heart. She was running a business. For decades she'd been stealing children and selling them to new parents, pocketing hundreds of dollars with every transaction.

She'd been able to continue this illegal and abusive scheme with the help of carefully chosen allies, but by the 1940s more and more questions were being asked. The old power bases that had protected Tan were breaking apart, and as cancer spread through her body, it slowly became clear that the end was coming for Georgia Tan in more ways than one. This is episode four, The Cold Hard Hand. It's February 1947 in Memphis, Tennessee. Harold Parker and his wife Viola walk up the steps to the front door of 1556 Poplar Avenue. The mansion seems quiet and serene, but Harold's ears are pounding by the thrum of his

pulse. His wife senses his nerves and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. They both take a deep breath because this could be the biggest day of their lives. More than 20 years ago, they lost a baby during labor. The infection that followed forced Viola to have a hysterectomy. After that, the couple thought they'd never be parents. But then they heard about the Tennessee Children's Home Society and suddenly the Parkers had hope again. Just last week they spoke to a woman on the phone who told them they can come and see her today about an adoption. Harold presses the doorbell and moments later Georgia Tan opens the door. She greets them warmly and leads them through the foyer and down the hall into a nursery. There are several cribs around the room, each holding an infant.

Tan guides the Parkers to one by the window. Inside is a little boy dressed in blue. Tan picks him up and starts talking about his parents. But she's barely begun her practice speech about the college student and his beauty queen girlfriend when one of the other babies in the room cries out. But she's barely begun her practice speech about the college student and his beauty queen girlfriend when one of the other babies in the room cries out. Tan ignores it, but Harold can't. The noise scratches at something deep inside him. Eventually he can't stand it any longer and follows the sound to the far corner of the room where a crib is pushed against the wall. A tiny baby girl whimpers inside, barely moving. It's no wonder she's so

upset. Her head is covered in an angry rash and when she opens her mouth to scream, Harold can clearly see that she's tongue-tied. Overcome by the urge to help, Harold gently scoops the girl up and asks Tan about her. Tan is clearly annoyed and tries to convince him that the boy she selected is the right child for them. He's a man, after all, and he should want a strong, handsome son. But Harold ignores Tan and looks to his wife. She doesn't hesitate and gives him a firm nod. They're decided. They'll take this little girl. They'll love her, even if Georgia Tan doesn't seem to believe she deserves it. A short while later, Harold writes out a check for $500.

Neither he nor Viola care that the Tennessee state government only charges around $7 to process an adoption. The Parkers take their daughter away from Poplar Avenue and straight to a doctor to get her the help she needs, and then they begin building their new life together. and then they begin building their new life together. Hopeful parents who come to the TCHS receiving home in Memphis are presented with immaculate gardens and beautifully decorated rooms staffed by nurses dressed in white. But it's all for show. Few visitors ever see what happens in the rooms that aren't on the tour. Ever since the Poplar Avenue facility opened its doors in 1943,

children there have been routinely abused and neglected. Crammed into dirty, overcrowded dormitories, they've been denied food and medical care. They've been beaten and even molested. And as the years have passed, things have only gotten worse. Tan has long been feared by everyone at the home for her temper, but as her cancer spreads, she only seems to become more irritable. The smallest of violations can earn an employee a reprimand or a child a beating. And every time Tan visits the house, there's a cold silence in its dormitories and halls. Children in the care of organizations like the TCHS should be protected. There's a state law mandating that all Tennessee

boarding homes have to be licensed and inspected, but through their political connections, Tan and her lawyer Abe Waldauer altered the wording of the bill to ensure that TCHS facilities are exempt from these requirements. So the abuse at Poplar Avenue continues, unchecked and unobserved, except on rare occasions, either by mistake or chance, when someone sees something they shouldn't. It's late at night and Poplar Avenue is quiet. A man walks alone down the sidewalk, having just left a dinner party at a co-worker's house.

He was the last to leave, so there's no one else on the street when he notices some movement in the yard of the TCH receiving home. As a reporter for the Memphis Press Scimitar, the man is naturally curious. He's also familiar with the TCHS, thanks to the annual Christmas baby giveaways they've run in his newspaper since the late 1920s. That's why the movement in the yard surprises him. At this time of night, that house should be still. Worrying it might be a child who slipped from their bed and somehow wandered outside, the reporter crosses the street to take a closer look. But when he approaches the mansion, he can see it's not an escaped child,

it's an adult, kneeling beside a flower bed, digging a hole in the earth with a shovel. The reporter watches from behind a tree as the shadowy figure sets the shovel aside and picks up a small bundle from the ground beside them. Carefully, they lower it into the hole. The reporter can't see what the bundle is, but nonetheless he feels a chill run through him. Frozen to the spot, he watches as the figure scrapes the soil back into the hole and then vanishes around the back of the house. The reporter waits until the coast is clear before he finally moved from his hiding spot. As he walks down the street toward his car he keeps replaying the scene in his head. Try as he might he

can't think of another explanation for what he saw and by the time he's reached his vehicle he's sure of it. He has just witnessed the burial of a child. But despite his suspicions, after sleeping on it, the reporter decides that either his imagination ran away with him, or he drank one too many glasses of wine at dinner. He won't report what he saw for years. It's yet another escape for Georgia Tann. But despite this stroke of luck, by 1947 she's beginning to lose her grip on adoption in Memphis and it's her own fault. Thanks to her, adoption is more popular than ever in America, but that means greater

attention is being paid to the often contradictory laws that govern it. There is now a growing body of politicians and campaigners calling for reform, wanting stronger regulation for adoption agencies and orphanages, and better protection for the families involved. Tan is horrified by these new proposals. She doesn't take kindly to any threats to her business, but as ever, she's prepared to fight back. So when a group of reformers in Tennessee draft a new bill that would give the Department

of Welfare oversight of all adoption proceedings Tan and Abe Waldauer get to work. They reach out to influential contacts across the state, who in turn put pressure on legislators to speak out against the proposed law. And it works. The bill is buried in committee. Tan and Waldauer celebrate their latest and last victory. For over 20 years, Tan has relied on the support of local power broker Edward Boss Crump.

But Crump's hold over Democratic Party politics in Tennessee is weakening. He's now in his mid-70s, and not the force of nature he once was. When the race to become the state's next governor begins in 1948, a rival named Gordon Browning beats Crump's favorite candidate in the primary and goes on to win the election in the fall. Browning's victory breaks Crump's stranglehold on Tennessee's political system and leaves Georgia Tann suddenly exposed. For Tann, this blow couldn't come at a worse time because she's about to encounter a formidable

new opponent of her own. Doctors, judges, and journalists have failed to stop her in the past, but now a determined housewife from Memphis is about to become her nemesis. It's December 17, 1948 at Memphis Municipal Airport. Gertrude Gibbs, a prominent local philanthropist in her late 40s, adjusts her coat as she stares at the departure board. She and a friend are waiting for a flight to Nashville, but right now it doesn't look like they're going anywhere. Outside the small airport, rain hammers the tarmac and lightning flashes behind the control

tower. But as she listens to the latest round of announcement about flight delays, Gibbs notices a nurse in a white uniform pass by carrying a wicker bassinet. Gibbs' breath then catches, two tiny infants are inside, and she loves children. As a mother to twin girls herself, she knows a thing or two about babies. So when the nurse settles into her seat, Gibbs follows, offering a warm smile. Excuse me, do you mind if I say hello? They're sleeping right now, but go ahead. Gibbs peers over the brim of the bassinet.

The two babies are nestled close together, tucked up tight beneath blankets. Gibbs smiles. Oh, they're beautiful. I don't know how they can sleep through a storm like this, but I suppose at their age, there's nothing to fret over but eating and sleeping. Nah, I wouldn't mind that kind of life.

No, it's wasted on the young, I tell you. How old are they? Twelve days. No, sorry, three weeks old. Yes, twenty-three days, to be precise. Both of them. Of course, they're twins. Gibbs takes another look at the girls.

Up close, the babies don't look the same age. One's face is fuller, more defined. And as a mother of twins herself, she knows these small differences well. But she keeps her thoughts to herself. Wow, they're adorable. You mind if I ask where you're headed? New York. I'm taking them to meet their new parents. Oh, they're being adopted! That's wonderful! Gibbs smiles politely, but something twists in her gut. She knows Tennessee has plenty of families longing for children. She can't think why these two should be sent as far away as New York. Tell me, do you take a lot of children to New York?

But before the nurse can answer, an announcement rings out through the terminal, the flight to New York is delayed four hours. The nurses face falls. Well, no one's going to New York tonight. That's our flight. Well, you'll be lucky if it's not pushed back again in this weather. Gibbs turns her attention back to the sleeping infants. Do you have somewhere warmer you can take them? It's pretty chilly in here. I'm sure you could arrange for the airline to call you when the weather clears up. You know, man, that's not a bad idea. I'll call a cab, thank you.

No, it's nothing. Take care of these two, won't you? New York. Such a long trip for these little ones. Gibbs watches as the nurse goes to a payphone and places a call. Then a short time later, she carries the wicker bassinet and the two babies out of the airport. Gibbs walks behind her as far as the door. She expects to see the woman climb into a taxi, but instead a sleep black limousine pulls up to the curb and a uniformed driver climbs out and takes the bassinet.

This is one oddity too many for Gibbs. So curious, she quickly takes note of the car's license plate. She's decided that when she gets back from her trip to Nashville, she's going to look into this. In the early hours of December 4th, 2024, CEO Brian Thompson stepped out onto the streets of Midtown Manhattan. This assailant starts firing at him. And the suspect. He has been identified as Luigi Nicholas Mangione. Became one of the most divisive figures

in modern criminal history. I was meant to sow terror. He's awoking the people to a true issue. Listen to Law and Crime's Luigi, exclusively on Wondery+. You can join Wondery+, the Wondery app, Spotify, or Apple podcasts. At the turn of the 20th century, rapid industrialization, urbanization and political

corruption were ravaging America. But soon President Theodore Roosevelt and a diverse group of reformers known as progressives would fight back. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery's podcast, American History Tellers. We take you to the events, times and people that shaped America and Americans, our values, our struggles, and our dreams. In our latest series, we explore the Progressive Era, which came to be defined by Teddy Roosevelt and others who believed in a strong, active government that worked on behalf of all Americans rather than the privileged few. As the United States entered the 20th century, these progressives hoped to steer the nation in a bold new direction, to launch an era of reform to restore power to the people. Follow American history tellers on the Wondery

app or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season only on Wondery+. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial today. During her time in Nashville in late 1948, Gertrude Gibbs can't stop thinking about the nurse and the two babies she saw at the airport in Memphis. Something about the entire situation just didn't seem right to her. It's strange enough that the babies were being flown out of state, but the nurse struck Gibbs as odd too. She didn't seem to even know the age of the children in her care. If she'd been thinking more quickly Gibbs might have been able to find out which agency the

woman worked for. As things stand all she has to go on is the license plate of the limousine that picked the nurse up from the airport. But Gibbs is a determined woman, especially when it comes to the welfare of children. She's mother to now 11-year-old twins and just last year she spent six weeks in Europe volunteering at a home for children orphaned during the war. So as soon as she returns home from Nashville, she sets to work. In the end, it only takes a few phone calls to find the answers she's looking for. The black limousine belongs to Georgia Tann,

executive secretary of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. Armed with that information, Gibbs calls a reporter she knows at the Commercial Appeal newspaper, and suddenly the story is in the local press. Gibbs and two of her friends are listed as prominent Memphis women who have concerns about the policies of the TCHS and are asking if more regulation is needed for adoption in Tennessee. Georgia Tan herself is approached for comment but she insists that the babies Gibbs saw were twins, that they were at least six weeks old and that their new home had been thoroughly vetted. But in private, away from the press, Tan is furious. Complaints about the TCHS are usually kept out of the newspapers. But here is Gibbs

and two other well-connected women directly questioning Tan in print. This is not something she intends to take lying down. So Tan summons Abe Waldauer to a meeting at Poplar Avenue. When he arrives, Tan is overseeing the decoration of the home's Christmas tree. Two of the staff perch on ladders while Tan jabs at the branches with her walking stick, growling out orders to move an ornament here or a light there. Like almost everything else in the house, the tree is just for show. It stands in a large front window where it's impossible to miss from the street. Finally, satisfied with the decorations, Tan then leads Waldauer into a small parlor off

the hall. She's moving more slowly these days. It's been over three years since Tan was diagnosed with uterine cancer and the morphine isn't helping her pain like it used to. Still she has enough strength to fling yesterday's copy of the commercial appeal at Waldauer as he sits down. Waldauer has already seen the newspaper article, but he skims it again. He tells Tan that she did a good job rebutting the arguments made by Gertrude Gibbs and the

others, but that's not enough for Tan. These society women and their pet reporter have attacked her in front of the entire city. They're pushing a dangerous agenda, trying to get new adoption laws on the books to tighten up restrictions. So Tan tells Waldauer he needs to fix this. It's his job as her attorney and as a member of the TCH board of directors. He must protect them. But Waldauer just sighs. He doesn't like disappointing his longtime client, but what Tan is requesting might not be possible anymore. With a new governor taking office in January, most of their useful contacts are about to

lose their jobs. Still Waldauer says he'll see what he can do. They have their own friends in the local press and he'll make sure their side of the story gets a fair hearing as well. But in the meantime, Waldauer suggests that Tan concentrate on making her operation a little less conspicuous. Tan thinks for a moment and nods. She can lie low for a while, but she has no intention of stopping.

In early 1949, Georgia Tan begins moving children through Memphis Municipal Airport in the middle of the night. Babies headed for Los Angeles are booked onto 3 a.m. flights, and those bound for New York take off at 5. Tann hopes these early flights will help her avoid any more unwanted attention. Gertrude Gibbs and the other women haven't gone back to the press since they made their complaints in December. Abe Waldauer's rapid and effective counterattack in the newspapers essentially accused the women of exaggerating, citing figures that showed that just 15% of TCH adoptions went out of state. Since then, nothing has been heard from Gibbs or the other women, and Tan feels confident

she's seen off another threat. But she is wrong. As a result of the publicity stirred up by Gertrude Gibbs, other people start to complain to the state government about the TCHS. Many are would-be parents who say they have been rejected by TAN's organization, or been left to languish on waiting lists for years. And despite the figures quoted by Abe Waldauer, it seems that actually only a small fraction of the children adopted out by the TCHS are finding new homes in Tennessee. There have been whispers about Georgia Tan for years. While her friend Edward Boss Crump ran things, that didn't matter so much. Any complaints about

the TCHS were brushed aside, and it was apparently in no one's interest to look too closely at where Tan found all her children, where they ended up, or how she accumulated her money. But the new governor, Gordon Browning, has no interest in protecting Tan. She's part of a political machine he wants to destroy. He's also aware that the state provides the Tennessee Children's Home Society with $15,000 in funding every year, and he wants to know exactly what that money is supporting. So in early September 1950, the governor orders one of his closest allies, attorney Robert Taylor, to look into the various allegations and rumors.

The 35-year-old Taylor quickly realizes it won't be a straightforward investigation. He's stonewalled by Tann's employees at Poplar Avenue and can only get limited information out of the courts. Taylor can see from public records that the TCHS has been handling plenty of adoptions, but where all the children end up is a mystery. Once an adoption is approved by a judge, all the details about it are sent to Nashville and placed in confidential files that Taylor can't access. But one day he gets a lucky break. While examining the records from Dyer County, 70 miles north of Memphis, Taylor discovers

a batch of TCHS adoption papers that have been completed but not yet been sent to Nashville. These list the names and addresses of the adoptive families and over 90% of them are in Los Angeles or New York. This suggests that Georgia Tann is sending far more children out of state than she's previously let on. So now Taylor wants to find out if she's been doing it at a profit. So accompanied by Earl Morgan from the state welfare department, Taylor stakes out the Memphis Airport. He hopes to intercept a TCHS employee on one of the early morning flights to Los Angeles or New York. Then

he figures he'll be able to ask them some questions directly. It doesn't take long. After just a few nights of waiting, they spot a woman with three infants in a wicker basket, boarding a plane to LA. Taylor and Morgan try to follow her, but they don't have tickets and it's a full flight. Taylor refuses to let his quarry escape now though.

So he and Morgan board the next plane to California and track the TCHS employee to a room at the Biltmore Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. The hotel room door cracks open an inch or two and a middle-aged woman peers out. Yes, can I help you? Yeah, are you Mrs. Alma Walton? I am. My name is Robert Taylor. This is my colleague Mr. Earl Morgan. We'd like to ask you a few questions. Are you police officers? I'm an attorney working for Governor Brown's office. Mr. Morgan is from the State Welfare Department. The two men pull out identification cards. It's about your employer, the Tennessee Children's Home Society. Mind if we talk inside?"

Walton shoots a nervous glance over her shoulder. Now's not really a good time, I'm afraid, Mr. Taylor. Perhaps later this evening, or ma'am, do you have some infants with you in there? I'm not meant to talk to people about our work. And who told you that, Miss Tan? Walton hesitates for a moment and then gives a slight nod. Mrs. Walton, we know what's going on. Those babies are being sold to new families here in California, aren't they?

No, it's not like that. They're being adopted. It's all perfectly above board. Then why are you sneaking them out of Memphis in the middle of the night? Walton falls silent. Then tears start to well up in her eyes. I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. Have you delivered any of the children yet, Mrs. Walton? Just one. To a delightful couple.

And did they give you anything in return? No. No money. No checks. Well, I don't handle that. It's all sent to Memphis. To the TCHS. To a post office box. Taylor's jaw tightens and he shoots a glance at Morgan. They're finally getting somewhere. Do you know how much they had to pay? I never see any of the money. I want you to know that. It's Miss Tan who handles all the financial matters. I don't get a cent.

How much, Mrs. Walton? $350 for delivery? For delivery? They have to pay other fees as well? Walton nods and Taylor leans forward. Mrs. Walton, the state of Tennessee, charges $7 for adoption papers. So how come these folks are paying hundreds more? Where does all the money go?

Maybe you should come in. I think that's a good idea. We have a lot to talk about. Inside the hotel room, Walton tells Taylor and Morgan everything she knows. About the baby she's transported to California and New York about the hundreds of dollars that adoptive parents pay in checks made out to Georgia tan. Robert Taylor now has evidence. Now it's time to go back to Memphis and finally put an end to Tennessee's black market baby rain. Hi, everyone.

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Therapy Using Psychedelics is the new frontier in mental health. Come along for the trip. Other People's Problems Season 5, available now. When attorney Robert Taylor returns to Tennessee from California, things move quickly. Now he has proof that Georgia Tann has been charging out-of-state couples enormous fees to adopt, he goes straight to the governor. On September 11, 1950, Gordon Browning calls a late-night press conference to announce an official investigation into the activities of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. When the news breaks, all eyes turn to Georgia Tann. Everyone is eager to hear her side of the story, but the 59-year-old isn't even aware of what's going on.

By this point, Tan is now confined to her bed at home on Stonewall Street in Memphis, where she slips in and out of consciousness. It's the early hours of September 15th, when Tan's final moments come. Anne Atwood, her partner of 30 years, is at her bedside holding her hand. Atwood listens to Tan's slow and shallow breathing. Around the room the shelves are full of framed, signed photographs of some of Tan's famous clients like the Hollywood stars June Allison, Dick Powell, and Joan Crawford. There are also get-well cards, including one from President Truman himself. Atwood feels tears well up as she thinks about all the lives Tan has touched.

She doesn't know that the autographs of the photos are forged and that the greeting cards were written out by Tan's employees on her orders. And Atwood doesn't think about the awful things they're saying about Tan in the papers. Instead, she focuses on the happy life they've had together, their secret romance, the family they've raised, and the hundreds of orphans and neglected children Tan has rescued. The next morning, around 4 a.m., Georgia Tan breathes her last breath. Either Atwood nor her doctors told her she was being investigated. That would only have upset her.

It would have been cruel. Even with the woman at the center of the scandal now dead, Attorney Robert Taylor continues his investigation into the Tennessee Children's Home Society. He is convinced that Georgia Tann had accomplices and he wants them to face justice. But he's operating on a tight budget and only has limited access to crucial documents and court transcripts. So he pleads for more money and support from his superiors. But while he still has his hands tied, Tan's old attorney Abe Waldauer moves quickly to take advantage.

Under the cover of darkness, Waldauer and an associate drive to the TCHS home on Poplar Avenue. They remove boxes upon boxes of documents. Learning of this, Taylor immediately petitions a court in Memphis demanding an injunction against the TCHS, preventing it from tampering with any files and granting him access to all documents relevant to his case. But the court is slow to act. Georgia Tan is already gone, and few see the urgency in Taylor's investigation. It takes full two months for a judge to order Waldauer to turn the files over, and by that time, who knows what was destroyed. To Taylor's frustration, it seems that Tan and her accomplices are going to escape justice. But then, a few

months into his investigation, Taylor gets a stroke of good luck and Tan's most important collaborator walks right into his hands. On November 9, 1950, Taylor goes to the Memphis Juvenile Court to see Judge Camille Kelly. Kelly is a prominent figure in the city. She's presided over its juvenile court for 30 years and has published several books about her experiences behind the bench. But during his investigation, Taylor has heard testimony that Kelly played a key role in Tan's operation and he's come to the courthouse today to confront her with what he's learned. Taylor waits for a moment before he hears the judge call out.

Enter. Good afternoon, Your Honor. Mr. Taylor, please have a seat. The 71-year-old Kelly is draped in her usual string of pearls and has a large orchid pinned to her dress. Taylor sits across from her. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice, Your Honor. Oh, no problem at all, but as I said,

I'm afraid I don't have long. I'm due in court. I understand. I gather you want to speak to me about Miss Tan. Well, yes and no. You know, I still can't believe she was capable of all the terrible things they're saying and she's not here to defend herself. As a judge, I find that deeply unfair. Well, I wish she could answer for her crimes as well, Your Honor. But while Miss Tan has been the chief focus of my investigation these past few months,

it's become increasingly clear to me that she didn't operate alone. She had accomplices. I see. Taylor removes a portable tape recorder from his briefcase and sets it on the desk. Do you intend to record our conversation, Mr. Taylor? Actually Your Honor, I want you to hear something. This is a recording of an interview I conducted yesterday with Mae Hindman. She worked for the TCHS and she was eager to share her experiences there with me. As it happened though, during our conversation, Miss Hindman received a phone call from you, Your Honor.

And as I was already recording the interview, it picked up your conversation as well. Taylor reaches out and starts the recording. Now dear, I'd like to ask you not to say anything to these investigators about my dealings with Miss Tan. A Hollywood producer is coming into town. They want to make a movie about my life, can you imagine? But how would it look if they thought I was mixed up in all this adoption mess? Judge Kelly's smile thins out. Taylor breaks the silence first. There's more on the tape, but you already know that, don't you? What's your game? You can't put Georgia behind bars so you're coming after me? Well, you'll need more evidence than that, Mr. Taylor. Well, to convict you in a court

of law, yes. But in the court of public opinion? If this were to somehow make it into the newspapers? Well, I see. What is it you want? Your resignation. If you agree to step down from the bench, I give you my word that I will keep your name out of this investigation and the newspapers. This is blackmail, you know. Call it a chance to do the right thing. Within 24 hours of her meeting with Robert Taylor, Judge Camille Kelly resigns. She is sent off with a glamorous retirement party and a declaration of an official Judge Camille Kelly Day in honor of her long service. No one will know the role she played in Georgia Tann's scheme for decades to come. In December 1950, the TCH home on Poplar Avenue is closed for good. But while the authorities

have ensured that no more children will suffer under its roof, elsewhere the system that protected Georgia Tann in life continues to shield her in death. Frustrated by the limitations on his investigation, Robert Taylor proposes a bill to Tennessee lawmakers that will grant him more authority and resources, but the legislation goes nowhere. And instead, soon after, Tennessee passes a different law legalizing all the adoptions Tann oversaw through the TCHS. It seems there are simply too many politicians, judges, and wealthy families who use Tann's services and none of them has any interest in snooping attorneys.

The scandal is quietly buried. Eventually, a small proportion of the money Tann made in her scheme is recovered from her estate. But once that legal action concludes in 1954, the story of Georgia Tan seems to end with it. Eventually, people lose interest in the woman who stole babies. Years pass, and despite the never-ending heartache of the families who were victimized by her, Georgia Tan is all but forgotten. In the decades that followed this scandal,

America's adoption industry continued to evolve, and many of the procedures and policies that Georgia Tann promoted became standard practice across the country. Tann always said that adoption records should be inaccessible, even to the people involved, and by the 1960s, most adoption files in America were sealed by law. Tan claimed this was for the sake of the adoptive families, to protect them from any birth parents who changed their minds. But it was a policy that suited Tan as well. With the truth about the

children's origins hidden, there was less of a chance of anyone finding out exactly what Tan was up to. It was not until decades later that things began to change. In 1991, a magazine article about Tan drew renewed attention to her case. High profile TV shows like 60 Minutes and Oprah picked up on the story, and as more people heard about what had happened in Memphis, some adoptees finally knew where to start looking for their lost families. There were some joyful reunions after a lifetime spent apart, but for most, it was far too late. Adopted children died without ever knowing where they came from. Birth parents died without ever finding out what happened to their babies.

Some of the children Tan stole eventually built happy lives, others never got that chance. At least 19 children died at the TCHS home on Poplar Avenue. They were buried in a Memphis cemetery unmarked and forgotten until 2015 when a campaign raised $13,000 to put up a permanent memorial to honor the children who died under the cold hard hand of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. But The campaign raised $13,000 to put up a permanent memorial to honor the children who died under the cold, hard hand of the Tennessee Children's Home Society. But those buried beneath this memorial represent just a fraction of Georgia Tans victims. Their true number will never be known.

Their names are lost and their fates are forgotten after their lives were destroyed by the greed of a single woman. From Wondery, this is episode four of The Woman Who Sold Babies for American Scanning. In our next episode, I speak with journalist TJ Raphael, host of the upcoming Wondery podcast, Liberty Lost, about a modern day adoption home that some have called a baby snatch operation. Raphael joins me to talk about the home, its connection to Georgia Tann, and its evangelical roots. completely ad-free when you join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a survey at Wondery.com slash survey.

If you'd like to learn more about Georgia Tan and the Tennessee Children's Home Society, we recommend the book The Baby Thief by Barbara Bizance Raymond, Babies for Sale by Linda Tollett Austin, and Before and After by Judy Christie and Lisa Wingate. This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. American Scandal is hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship.

Audio editing by Christian Peraga. Sound design by Gabriel Gould. Supervising sound Designer is Matthew Filler Music by Thrum This episode is written and researched by Joel Callan Fact Checking by Alyssa Jung Perry Managing Producer Emily Berth Development by Stephanie Jens

Senior Producers are Andy Beckerman and Andy Herman Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, Jenny Lauer Beckman, Marshall Louis, and Erin O'Flaherty for Wondering. In each episode, we take you to the edge of some of the most incredible adventure and survival stories in history. In our next season, it's 1980, and in the Pacific Northwest, the long dormant volcano Mount St. Helens is showing signs of life. Scientists warn that a big eruption is coming, but a restricted zone around the mountain is limited by politics. On May 18th, hikers, loggers,

reporters, and researchers are caught in the blast zone as the volcano erupts. They find themselves pummeled by a deadly combination of scorching heat, smothering ash, and massive mudslides. The survivors have to find their way to safety before they succumb to their injuries or face another eruption. Follow against the odds on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Binge the entire season ad-free right now only on Wondery Plus. Start your free trial in the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Binge the entire season ad free right now only on Wondery Plus. Start your free trial in the Wondery app, Apple podcasts or Spotify today.