Dark Downeast - The Suspicious Death of Phil Williams Jr. (Maine)

Episode Date: May 21, 2026

For more than 30 years, Pam Williams believed she knew how her brother died. She was told it was a medical event. The kind of tragedy no one could have stopped. She carried that explanation with her as she tried to rebuild her life around it. But sometimes the truth doesn’t disappear. It just waits. In 2016, a stranger showed up with questions about what really happened inside a school in rural Maine. A place that promised help, structure, and change for struggling teenagers. What followed would force Pam to confront a different version of her brother’s final days – one built on conflicting memories, unanswered questions, and the possibility that what she’d been told all those years ago wasn’t the full story. View source material and photos for this episode at: darkdowneast.com/philwilliamsjr   Dark Downeast is an Audiochuck and Kylie Media production hosted by Kylie Low. Follow @darkdowneast on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok To suggest a case visit darkdowneast.com/submit-case Did you know you can listen to Dark Downeast ad-free? Join the Crime Junkie Fan Club! Visit https://crimejunkiepodcast.com/fanclub/ to view the current membership options and policies. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

For more than 30 years, Pam Williams believed she knew how her brother died. She was told it was a medical event. The kind of tragedy no one could have stopped. She carried that explanation with her as she tried to rebuild her life around it. But sometimes the truth doesn't disappear. It just waits. In 2016, a stranger showed up with questions about what really happened inside a school in rural Maine, a place that promised help, structure, and change for struggling teenagers.

What followed would force Pam to confront a different version of her brother's final days, one built on conflicting memories, unanswered questions, and the possibility that what she'd been told all those years ago wasn't the full story. I'm Kylie Lowe and this is the case of Phil Williams Jr. on Dark Down East. Pam Williams smiles when she talks about her big brother, Phil. Oh, goodness. He was the best. He was, oh my goodness, like my protector.

I was everything to him. He was about three years older, a big enough gap to make him a hero in Pam's eyes and close enough to make them playmates when they were younger. He was just always there running around, having me cling to him and teaching me things and just making sure I was not getting into trouble, but just taking care of me, just protecting me.

And if I ever needed anything, he was right there. And yeah, he was, he used my life. He loved to sing. He even played a little guitar. Phil had this presence about him that people noticed right away. My favorite thing was a smile. He had a beautiful smile. Because we're Hawaiian, we're dark-skinned.

So when he smiled, he just really lit up everything. I mean, he was beautiful. He just lit up like the whole area he was in. All the girls would come around. around him and yeah, he attracted a lot of the females from a very young age. He had curls in his hair. Yeah, he was very nice looking. Phil took his role as Big Brother very seriously. He had to. The world they were growing up in didn't really leave space for kids to just be kids.

We weren't together a lot because we were in a broad. broken home, our parents were alcoholics, drug addicts, very abusive to each other. That's why he took care of me so much. Their father was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and of being an accessory before the fact to assault with intent to murder. The victim was Pam and Phil's mother, who had been awarded custody of the kids in their divorce. Their mom survived the attack, but never fully recovered. She lived nearly three decades in a nursing home. After that, Phil and Pam were placed into the foster care system. They were sent to live with a family in Rockland, Maine. And that's where things started to change for her big brother. And that's when he started

having trouble. They said behavioral trouble. We didn't know what the trouble was. Phil would go into fits of rage that now with the benefit of retrospect may have been triggered by intense headaches. He complained of fierce pain in his head constantly. At the time, their cause was unknown and untreated. I just remember a lot of violence, a lot of him screaming and smashing his head on walls, saying that his head are so bad, begging for them. to help it stop. Pam didn't recognize

this version of her brother. Just remember being scared all the time, starting to be scared of him. And it just, I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know why they kept saying it was his fault.

He would sometimes get down and, you know, cover his head and just, I didn't understand why they were saying, saying it was his fault. It didn't look like his fault. It looked like he was in pain.

There was an incident of physical violence involving Phil and their foster brother. That may have been the breaking point. Pam has few memories from early childhood. After years in therapy to understand why she's never been able to recover them. But there are a few especially heavy moments that still float to the surface. Like the night her brother, was taken from her. And then, yeah, just one night the police coming to our foster home and removing him.

Phil was picked up by police and removed from the foster home. He was first sent to a youth center and then to Sweetser, a mental health care provider, before he was placed at Alon One Corporation in Poland, Maine, most well known simply as Alon. He was 15 years old. Pam didn't know anything about Alon when Phil was placed there. She was told very little by the adults in her life, but everything she did here sounded encouraging for someone like her brother.

Through some virtual digging, I came across an old brochure for Alon online. It looks like it was created sometime during or after 1985 based on dates from quotes featured inside. According to its founders, and straight from the Alon brochure itself, quote. Alon is a school. It is not a correctional institution, nor is it a mental hospital. It is a carefully conceptualized and caringly administered residential community for adolescents with, quote unquote, out-of-control behavioral problems. Alon works with juveniles to help them see the causes and consequences of their conduct, and then to teach them the skills of responsible living. Alon was founded in 1970. It was started because there were no

proper facilities for youth who did not belong in mental hospitals or in penal institutions. Those adolescents who were sent to mental institutions were not cured. They learned how to become patients. Those who were sent to juvenile justice institutions were destroyed, either because they became victims of actual criminals or because they themselves became criminals. Unlike the usual institutions which operate in the medical social work model or the correctional model, Alon insists that each individual is responsible for his own behavior and only grows through practicing responsibility. Alon's philosophy insists that each person is only as sick as he or she wants to be.

The community of peers isn't fooled by the clever manipulative actions and self-defeating adolescent behaviors in the way conventional institutions have allowed themselves to be bamboozled. The Alon community will not tolerate the individual who insists upon illness, It demands that each student comes to grips with wellness. Alon is highly productive. Through Alon, several thousand troubled adolescents have freed themselves from alienation and confusion. Their obnoxious behavior has become unnecessary and fades away into unpleasant memory.

End quote. They kept telling me that he was doing better, that yeah, they were working on his behavior. they were getting him treatment for his headaches. That was the picture Pam was given, that her brother was safe, that he was in school, that people were finally listening to him, finally helping him,

that this was a place where he could get better and eventually come home. She believed she would see him again, but that didn't happen. I didn't get to see him. I didn't get to see him. The next thing I remember is we were making him a gift box for Christmas, but it came back in the mail.

And then a couple days after Christmas, I was told that he had already passed. And they didn't want to tell me because they didn't want to ruin my Christmas, and I lost it. The next time she saw Phil, was at his funeral. At first, we were told that he had died of a brain aneurysm. Pam was told that he collapsed from a brain aneurysm.

It was described like a ticking time bomb that no one knew had been counting down. The explanation did not make it any easier to cope with what she'd lost. I tried to jump in the grave with him at the funeral. My dad, my foster dad, had to, you know, pull me literally to the van to get me away from the graveside. Yeah, I tried to go with him. I was horrible. That moment changed me forever. Losing Phil altered the course of her life and it sent her into a spiral that took many years to climb out of.

Through treatment and therapy, she made progress. She found ways to navigate her grief and make peace with the fill-shaped hole in her life. For over 30 years, Pam believed what she was told as a child about how and why her brother died. There was no reason to question it. And then, she got a call from a stranger that challenged everything she thought she knew about Phil's death. We didn't trust him at first. We were like, you know, who is this guy Mark? And is he telling the truth?

Like Phil, Mark Babbitts was a former Alon resident. According to reporting by Judith Meyer for the Sun Journal, he spent about a year there in the mid-70s, ordered by the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services. In 2016, he'd tracked Pam and her father down because he said he had information about Phil, and they agreed to meet with him. though not without serious reservations.

Pam didn't know what to make of this guy from Chicago, driving up in a fancy car, dropping Phil's name. Was he for real or some kind of con man or worse? But if Mark really had information about her brother, Pam wanted to hear it. Mark got straight to business during their first in-person meeting. He handed over a copy of Phil's death certificate. The immediate cause of death listed on the death certificate is brain stem compression due to or as a consequence of massive cerebral hemorrhage

due to or as a consequence of probably ruptured aneurysm. That did not come as a complete surprise. Pam and her father already knew Phil's cause of death. They had made peace with what they understood at the time, that no one knew the aneurysm was there before it ruptured and that once it happened, nothing could have changed the outcome. But what Pam didn't know until Mark showed up was what other residents at Alon said they witnessed before Phil reportedly suffered the probable rupture of a brain aneurism. The horror that was going on in those buildings

when we found out about it, at first we were like just in shock. Alon One Corporation was founded in 1970 by Joseph Ritchie and psychiatrist Dr. Gerald Davidson. Joe didn't come from traditional education or clinical training. He was in recovery from substance use and had spent time in treatment programs himself, experiences the Alon brochure calls a crude precursor of Alon. He was not a physician, he was not a teacher,

he had not attended college, and he was 24 years old when Alon opened its doors. The name Joe Ritchie is still well-known in Maine today, even after Joe's death, for reasons beyond the school. He was a businessman, and by 1979, he and Dr. Davidson had purchased the Scarborough Downs Racetrack. Joe was more than just the co-founder of Alon. He also served as executive director. He was in charge of the daily functioning of the Alon program and the training and development of its staff. Below Richie and Dr. Davidson were the staff carrying out the program. They were

trained in Alon's, quote, special techniques and could not be manipulated by, quote, clever adolescence, according to the brochure. By the mid-80s, Alon had about 170 beds. Kids came from 30 states and five foreign countries. Some students were placed there by their parents who paid tuition about $1,000 a month in 1972, rising to around $55,000 per student in 2011. Others, like Phil, were placed there through the state. It was licensed by the main Department of Education as a high school, authorized to grant diplomas. So how did Alon actually work? According to its own materials, the goal wasn't short-term behavioral control. It was total change. Students weren't just expected to stop doing the wrong things. They were expected to rebuild how they lived and thought.

Students were pushed to confront themselves directly and answer questions like, Why did you end up here? What are you going to do about it? When do you stop blaming others? Inside Alon, the program functioned like a miniature society largely run by the students themselves. Each unit had jobs and a chain of command. New arrivals started at the bottom. Advancement brought more status, responsibility, and privilege. But it had to be earned. The system relied on constant evaluation. Success meant moving up, failure meant being pushed back down. students were often placed in roles where they were expected to struggle with the idea that setbacks would build resilience. At the same time, pressure to perform was constant. Peers enforced

expectations and everything had to be earned. The Ilan brochure I found addressed the concerns parents might have about sending their kids to the school, like whether they'd be able to visit. Quote, we will want you to visit your child, when the time is right, when he or she has changed enough to act in an appropriate manner, has changed enough to start interacting with you productively. In about six to eight months, the student should become autonomous enough to be capable of negotiating and interacting with his or her parents in a way appropriate to an adolescent rather than a petulant child. Then we will ask you to visit Alon, end quote.

In the meantime, parents were promised quarterly reports, though even those might be delayed, and if the updates were difficult to read. For example, if a report noted a child suffering from depression, the brochure prepared parents for that, too. Quote, depression must occur when the resident becomes aware of how he has wasted his opportunities and hurt others. This kind of depression is desirable and useful because it leads to a new, more mature way of handling life's problems, end quote.

Finally, the brochure reassured parents of where responsibility lay. Always remember, it reads, Alon's philosophy does not allow you to be blamed for your adolescence behavior. That behavior is the adolescence responsibility, not yours. At the end, co-founder Dr. Davidson leaves the reader with this. Quote, Over the years at Alon, we have learned much about troublesome adolescents, as distinguished from troubled, i.e. mentally ill, they are incompetent. Traumatic events,

some accidental, some caused by ignorance, some caused by meanness, have blocked the adolescent. The energy that should go into personal development is diverted into nonsensical, useless, or self-destructive behavior. When a youngster's total energy and passion is taken up with failing school to make parents suffer with getting even instead of getting ahead, with drugs, with battling secret fears or whatever, then that adolescent does not grow. He or she has no time to do the work of adolescents. Dropping out of school, encapsulated with rock music all day over the Walkman or focusing on video games and harassing adults, doesn't build much of a future. It produces incompetence, end quote. On paper, a lot of

Alon presented itself as structured, intentional, even therapeutic, but stern, if that's the right word for the tone that the brochure gives off, a place where difficult kids could rebuild themselves from the ground up. That's the version families were given. The reality for many residents was much darker. Alon boasted clinical services and special techniques delivered with specialized care and backed by professional standards. So what were those? One of the most common forms of discipline at Alon was something called a haircut. If a resident committed an infraction, they could be surrounded by their peers and screamed at.

They were forced to listen as other kids tore them down for what they'd done. A reporter for the Evening Express who witnessed one of these in 1972 wrote, quote, Screaming and yelling is very much a part of the scene at Alon. One of the first things a resident learns is how to scream, end quote. And then there was the ring, the infamous ring. It was quite simply student against student boxing. Not hidden, not a secret. This was being publicly reported as early as 1974.

In a Lewiston Daily Sun article by Jeffrey Gavalt, a resident named Amy was described as being, quote, forced to box. another resident after lashing out at them. Just weeks later, that same reporter documented 69 licensing violations at Alon's second location in Waterford. Among the concerns, boxing matches between kids of different sizes. One local resident questioned whether the people running Ilan were responsible at all. By the mid-1970s concerns had escalated beyond local reporting.

Mark Babitz himself, the man who brought information about, about Phil to Pam, he had been removed from Ilan in 1975, along with 11 other residents, after the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services received allegations of abuse, both mental and physical. The Illinois DCFS report documented allegations of handcuffs, straight jackets, forced humiliation, and physical violence. One resident was allegedly made to stand for hours handcuffed to a table. Others said children were beaten. According to reporting by John S. Day for the Bangor Daily News,

one account alleged that residents were ordered to pour a mixture of food and human feces over another child's head. The conclusion from that evaluation was blunt. Quote, team members found the Ilan program abhorrent to all expected standards of child care. End quote. But in the weeks that followed, reports of other evaluations surfaced. Another team from Illinois had given Ilan a clean bill of health just a month before the allegations of abuse. A psychologist from Cook County also offered a favorable recommendation weeks after that. And some students interviewed without staff present said the allegations in the

Illinois report were exaggerated or outright false. Maine launched its own investigation, but I have not found public documentation showing that it resulted in substantiated findings of physical abuse, enforcement action, or loss of licensure. Joe Ritchie planned to sue the evaluator and the state of Illinois for defamation. The disposition of that case, if it ever came to be, is unknown. Over the years, more allegations surfaced, some paired with lawsuits against Ilan, but many of those cases were dropped, dismissed, or never moved forward. And still, the stories persisted.

Years later, when Pam sat in her home listening to Mark Babette, This is what she was trying to process. The stories that I was told, I didn't even know that some people would do such things. You don't treat children like that. How, when you're supposed to be nurturing children, when you're supposed to be taking care of children. How can you treat them like that? But it was what Mark told Pam and her father next that totally shifted the earth beneath them.

Mark explained that he had spoken to former students who were at Alon with Phil in December of 1982. These former residents alleged that in the hours or days before Phil died, he had been placed in the ring for a boxing match. The idea that this could have been. happened that Phil could have been forced to box and could have suffered repeated blows in a school sanctioned fight that it could have triggered something already at risk inside his brain had never been part of Pam's reality. And just like that, everything she thought she knew about

her brother's death started to unravel. After Mark came and told us all this, I had to start over again. It was like he died all over again because it was totally different. In that big renewed grief, something else was unleashed alongside it. Mark wanted someone to dig deeper into Phil's death. What he believed was Phil's murder, and Pam was going to help. On February 23rd, 2016, more than three decades after Phil Williams died, the Andruscoggin County Sheriff's office received a report of a possible homicide. The name in the case file is redacted, but through my reporting, it appears to have been Mark Babbitts walking into the lobby that day, telling authorities he wanted to report a possible murder committed on December 27, 1982.

He described how kids who were residents at the Elan School in Poland, Maine, were forced to box each other while everyone else watched. According to the report, he said he had gathered information from several of his followers that something happened during one of those fights in the Elan 7 building on December 27, 1982. He handed over Phil's death certificate to the sergeant saying he believed this should have been investigated decades earlier, that if anyone had looked closely at the time, they would have found the same information he was now bringing forward. The sergeant completed the report and passed it up the chain of command to the chief deputy, who would then notify Maine State Police in the Attorney General's Office, the agencies responsible for investigating

homicides in Maine outside of Portland and Bangor. For the first time since 1982, Phil Williams' death was being treated as something that deserved an investigation. Maine State Police opened an investigation into Phil's death in 2016. Detective Herbert Layton tracked down former Alon residents for interviews, many of them brought forward by Mark Babbitts. I obtained 71 pages of records from that investigation. They are heavily redacted. On top of names, including Phil's name, which I had to provide to request the documents, nearly every pronoun is inexplicably blacked out,

which makes it difficult to identify exactly who is speaking in each account. But taken together with my other research and reporting, the picture is clearer. One former resident who lived in Alon 7 between 1981 and 1986 told Detective Layton they remembered Phil for two things in particular, his curly hair and the fact that he complained of headaches all the time. That resident also remembered being present during a boxing match, believed to involve Phil. They described a group of residents forming a circle around the ring. At some point during the fight, Phil fell and began to convoled. He was taken away and later the residents were told that he had died.

The former resident explained that the ring was never really seen as dangerous, but after Phil's death, there was a growing fear among the kids that Alon might actually be capable of seriously harming them. Another witness recalled retrieving the boxing equipment that day, gloves and headgear. They remembered that there were three rounds, but only two people boxing Phil, suggesting that one of them may have fought him twice. A different former resident who had known Phil for several months before his death described what led up to that moment in more detail.

They remembered a general meeting shortly after Christmas in 1982 where Phil was called to the front and confronted by other residents. During that meeting, people accused him of faking something, likely his headaches but this part is redacted, and were encouraged to say whatever they felt about him. After that, according to this witness, Phil was sent into the ring. The account states that two residents boxed him, with one going two rounds. The witness said Phil did not fight back.

He kept his gloves up, covering his head. At one point the power went out, and the fight continued in the dark. When it was over, Phil was taken into an office and left there. Another resident was assigned to sit outside and watch him. After a short time, they heard a noise from insolk. the room. When they looked in, they could see him sitting, hunched over with his hands covering his head. The resident asked if he was okay, but his response is redacted in the report. Concerned, they went to get a staff member and said that Phil didn't look right that he appeared to be in pain,

and they were told to return to their seat and were scolded for leaving their post. A few minutes later, they heard what they described as flopping sounds. When they went back into the room, they found Phil on the floor convulsing like he was having a seizure. They called for help. People rushed in. Someone told them to hold him down. Phil was then removed, possibly on a stretcher, and the next day, the resident was told by a nurse that he had died. Another witness described Phil as unresponsive after the fight, choking on vomit while he was in that same office. According to that account, a staff member instructed them to roll him onto his side. At some point after his death,

That same witness asked why Phil had been placed into the ring if it was known that something was wrong with him. They were told it was safe because he had been wearing headgear. Another account describes Phil in the days before he died as visibly unwell, complaining of pain, dizzy, losing his balance and crying. According to that, resident staff did not believe him and told him to continue working. When he said he couldn't, a general meeting was called and the ring was set up.

Several residents who spoke to investigators in 2016 believed that Phil had been put into the ring multiple times in the days leading up to his death. One witness believed it was possibly as many as ten times over a four- or five-day period in an effort to force him to admit he was faking it. But not every account aligns. One former resident told Detective Leighton that Phil was not left alone in an office after the fight. In their version, Phil returned to the cottages. that night. The following day, Phil said he still didn't feel well. A staff member responded that

they would see what they could do. According to this witness, while sitting on a bench outside the kitchen later that day, Phil stood up, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. That resident said they were right there at his feet as he had a seizure and stopped breathing. The sequence of events is not identical in every account, but across nearly all of these statements, there is one consistent and thread, former residents talked about the ring. According to witnesses who claimed to be there, the ring was somewhere in the hours or days leading up to Phil's death. Detective Leighton also tracked down a number of former Alon staff members as part of the

2016 probe, including someone who worked in Alon 7 at the time Phil was there. That person didn't remember Phil by name and had no independent memory of him, but they did remember the day a boy was taken to the hospital and the call that came afterwards saying that the boy had died. At first, they couldn't recall whether that boy had been in the ring, but later in the interview, they remembered that staff had reported behavioral problems and sought permission to put him there.

That same day, they got the call that the boy was being taken to the hospital, then another call reporting his death. Detective Leighton also interviewed a former staff member who worked at a lawn years later in the mid-1990s, possibly in a medical role. Redactions make it difficult to say for sure. Now, this witness described how most kids were taken from their homes, sometimes pulled from their beds, and transported to the facility in the dead of night. Once there, they were required to remove personal items and were bathed for what staff referred to as bugs. According to this former staff member, nurses did not receive complete

medical histories for residents. They were told what medications a child was on, but not necessarily a full picture of their health. The former staff member confirmed that the ring existed, and that residents did box one another. They said they didn't personally recall treating any serious injuries, though, mostly things like bruises or split lips, sometimes days after the fact. But the former staff member's experience added another layer. They also said that when they personally raised concerns about the program internally, they were told it was none of their business. And when outside officials came in to review or recertify Ilan, there were never any problems noted. The former staff member believed those officials may have been told not to believe anything

the kids said. This is just one account from one person who worked at Ilan at least a decade after Phil was there. Alon described its own medical care as attentive and comprehensive. The brochure boasted their focus on improving each student's physical, psychological, and dental health. On campus, nurses handled daily care, coordinated with outside providers, and worked under a physician who regularly oversaw treatment. In serious cases, students were taken to St. Mary's Hospital about 15 to 20 minutes away, where Alon maintained a working relationship and shared medical records. The program also emphasized early detection of psychiatric issues stating that, staff were trained to recognize warning signs and intervene quickly. Now another witness, a retired Maine probation and parole officer who supervised a juvenile

placed at Elan in the late 1970s, described the structure this way. Elan used kids to control kids, which not only solved the problem of staffing, but also solved the problem of adult staff members being accused of assaulting the juvenile residents by having another juvenile strike the child at the behest of Alon." End quote. But there's one account in the case file documents I received that throws a wrench into the whole thing. Detective Layton interviewed a person described as the overall supervisor of Alon 7,

someone who worked there before, during, and after the time Phil was a resident. That person said they had no recollection of any child dying at Alon. aside from one resident who may have died from a contagious illness, in fact, they told investigators it made no sense that a child could have died while living there without them knowing about it. As Detective Leighton continued the investigation, there were a few other details that stood out, some clarifying, others raising even more questions. None of the witnesses he interviewed, whether staff or former residents,

could recall any kind of formal meeting among leaders. to discuss Phil's death at the time. There was no clear memory of a review, a debrief, or any internal response that you might expect after a child dies in a residential program. There were also no consistent memories of an ambulance being called. Instead, multiple witnesses described Phil being placed into a station wagon and driven off campus. It's also important to note that not every person interviewed had negative things to say about Ilan. One former resident said the program changed their life, helping them break a cycle of substance use. They described the ring as controlled, saying only bullies were made to participate, and that no one was brutally beaten

while boxing. There were also questions raised about the motive for bringing these allegations forward more than 40 years later. One witness suggested that the story surrounding Phil's death, and what may have led up to it, could have been influenced by the possible. of a future lawsuit. Which brings us back to Mark Babbitts. A little more about Mark Babbitts. After he was removed from Ilan by the Illinois DCFS, he eventually returned, possibly by choice,

but he did not graduate from the program. He later spent time in another residential facility. In the years that followed, after his own struggles and time in prison, he became a vocal advocate for former Elon residents. He helped connect survivors, supported efforts to share their stories, and was even involved in projects like The Last Stop Documentary, which focused on experiences inside the program. His advocacy apparently involved the possible pursuit of legal action. In a 2016 written response from Maine Assistant Attorney General Laura Nomani, it's clear Mark had been in regular contact with the AG's office about the investigation into Phil's death. In the letter sent to Mark, Nomani reminded him that she cannot discuss aspects of the investigation with him.

And then she wrote, quote, You recently informed me that you are contemplating filing a $52 million civil action against the state of Maine for monetary damages relating to the Ilan school. You requested advice in the filing of such a suit. If this is a matter you intend to pursue, you should consult with your private legal counsel, end quote. She went on to clarify that the Attorney General's office could not provide him with legal advice and they would represent state agencies in any such case. For some, yes, that raised questions about Mark's motivation for stirring this all up. But for Pam, it doesn't change how she sees Mark or his mission.

She believes he cared deeply about what happened to kids at Alon and about making sure those stories were heard. At the same time, like many survivors, his advocacy, his advocacy. existed alongside a pursuit of accountability, including the possibility of compensation for what they say they endured. By 2016, investigators were trying to piece together what might have happened to fill. But that raises a more basic question. What happened in 1982 when he actually died? What's striking, what's hard to ignore is how little evidence there is that anyone looked into his death at the time. I could find essentially nothing to suggest that Phil's death was investigated by any law enforcement agency at any level in 1982. When Detective Leighton checked decades later, the office of

the chief medical examiner had no record of conducting an autopsy in Phil's case. Reporting by Catherine Skelton and Lindsay Tice for the Sun Journal suggests the OCME was notified of his death, but because the attending physician determined it was due to natural causes, an autopsy was not ordered. That's one version of events, but the records from the 2016 investigation complicate that. In those case files, Detective Layton writes, quote, I reviewed the report of post-mortem examination of redacted, and later notes that another individual was listed in the report as a witness to the autotivor.

If someone witnessed an autopsy, it suggests one may have taken place. There is also a heavily redacted interview with that witness. While details specific to Phil are removed, the witness speaks generally about the type of condition believed to have caused his death, likely a brain aneurism, saying that people are born with them, that they are difficult to diagnose, and that they most commonly rupture between the ages of 25 and 45, rare in someone fills age, but not impossible. So even at the most basic level, there are inconsistencies.

It's not entirely clear whether an autopsy was done or how thoroughly his death was examined. What is clear is what didn't happen. There's no record of an official criminal investigation by police or the Attorney General's office in 1982. The main Department of Education, did not investigate Alon in connection with Phil's death. And then there's the question of DHS,

the Department of Health and Human Services here in Maine. Phil was a child in state custody. He died while placed at a facility the state had approved, one that already had documented allegations of abuse. So was there an internal investigation by DHS? Pam has tried to find out. She has requested records from the Department of Health and Human Services, from the Office of Child and Family Services,

but she has never been able to see them. She still doesn't know how, or even if, the state examined what happened to her brother. A child dies while in state custody, and there's no clear record of anyone stepping in to ask why, to ask if he was receiving proper medical care, to understand the conditions he was living in. Why was this not an immediate cause for a closer look, if not a full investigation of his death and the circumstances surrounding it. I'm not a prosecutor. I'm not a legal expert. But here's what I've come to understand through research and reporting.

Under main law, murder requires proof that someone intentionally or knowingly caused that death, or engaged in conduct so extreme that it shows a depraved indifference to human life. That is a very high bar. Without clear evidence of intent or conduct that a jury would view, as that level of indifference, a murder charge becomes difficult to sustain. In Maine, manslaughter covers situations where someone causes a death without intending to, but does so either recklessly or in a way that reflects a serious failure to recognize an obvious risk. That crosses into criminal negligence.

Recklessness means a person is aware of a substantial risk and consciously disregards it. Criminal negligence means they fail to recognize a risk, that any reasonable person should have seen, but both fall under the umbrella of manslaughter in Maine. Witnesses described Phil as visibly unwell in the days leading up to his death. He complained of severe headaches, struggled with balance, and appeared physically compromised, and yet, according to those same accounts,

he was still placed into what essentially was a forced boxing match. If a jury believed that staff understood the seriousness of his condition and still allowed him to be physically struck, that could meet the definition of recklessness. If instead the evidence showed that staff failed to recognize how serious his condition was but should have, that would fall closer to criminal negligence. Either way, the legal question is whether their actions or their failure to act created an unjustifiable risk that led to his death. Now, side note, have you heard of the eggshell skull rule? I hadn't until I started looking for other cases where someone died from a brain aneurism after being struck resulting in murder charges?

Turns out there are some cases. I was curious if murder could still be a charge if, for example, the force of the strike wouldn't have caused death if a brain aneurysm wasn't a factor. The eggshell skull rule accounts for this. The idea is that you take a person as you find them. If someone has an underlying vulnerability and your actions trigger, a fatal outcome, you can still be held responsible, even if another person might have survived the same situation. Now, there's also a charge in Maine for endangering the welfare of a child,

which may be one of the more direct frameworks to think about here. Under current Maine law, a person can commit that crime by recklessly endangering a child's health, safety, or welfare by violating a duty of care or protection. That kind of charge would not necessarily require proving that the alleged boxing caused Phil's aneurism to rupture. The question would be whether forcing or allowing a visibly ill child to participate in a dangerous physical activity violated a duty of care or protection. In Phil's case, the questions become less about certainty and more about responsibility. If Phil was placed in the ring as witnesses claim, should someone have stopped it? Should someone have intervened sooner? Should someone in a position of a

have recognized that the situation had crossed a line from discipline into danger. Because under the law, responsibility isn't only about what you do. It can also be about what you failed to do when the risk is right in front of you. We were right out hoping for justice. We wanted to see someone go to jail, someone get in trouble, someone pay. But in February of 2017, the AG's office announced that there would be no charges of any kind due to insufficient evidence. Well, I would think that my brother being dead would be sufficient evidence, period. He's dead.

Been dead for 40 years. That's sufficient evidence to me. He was killed that night. He's dead. That's sufficient evidence. They were supposed to be watching my brother. That's sufficient evidence. Somebody let him be killed.

That's plenty of evidence. There's a wrong there. I'll never make peace with the fact he was murdered because I don't think anyone really took responsibility. I don't think the child's responsible at all. He was forced. He was a child too.

To be clear, there have been no criminal charges or public findings of wrongdoing against Ilan Juan Corporation, its founders, former staff, or anyone associated with Joe Ritchie's estate in connection with Phil's death. It's been nearly a decade since Phil's case was closed.

For Pam, his death, and what she sees as a failure of the justice system isn't something she can just move on from. It's something she's learned to live with and carry, something she's still working through and will be for the rest of her life. I don't expect justice anymore. I've made peace with that,

that I will not get justice. But I love the fact that for 40 years, People have been talking about him and telling his story. And now his story's going to be told so much more, so much further. I'm just so thankful now. Elon itself shut down in 2011, in part because of mounting pressure from survivors and advocates who refused to let their experiences be buried. But the broader system, the troubled teen.

industry, as it's often called, still exists in many forms. Elon's everywhere. There are so many of these schools that are open right now. Elon's everywhere. And there are still people working to expose the darkest parts of the industry to tell these stories to push for change. Mark Babbitts was one of those people, but I was not able to reach him for this story. Some online discussions suggest that he may have died in 2025,

but I've been unable to independently confirm that. Pam holds on to what Mark set in motion and the truth he brought to her, even when it changed everything. For decades, Phil's life was reduced to a single explanation, a medical event, a tragic but natural death. Now there are questions, complicated ones, unresolved ones, but there is also something else. Through it all, Phil is known, honored, and remembered. The world missed out on a beautiful, beautiful soul. He could have done so much. I just wish he could have had a better chance.

Our whole family could have had a better chance. If you want to learn more about Elan, I released a full episode of Dark Down East a few years ago that digs deep into the history and demise of the controversial school, including the role it played in Kennedy Cousin Michael Skakel's trial for the murder of Martha Moxley. Find it in the show notes. Thank you for listening to Dark Down East. You can find all source material for this case at Darkdowneast.com. Be sure to follow the show on Instagram at Darkdowneast. This platform is for the families and friends who have lost their loved ones and for those who are still searching for answers. I'm not about to let those names or their stories get lost with time. I'm Kylie Lowe, and this is Dark Down East. Dark Down East is a production of Kylie Media and Audio Check. I think Chuck would approve.