Every Town - MISSING Milk Carton Kids - Did The Campaign Help or Actually Do Harm?

Episode Date: November 15, 2024

If you were around int the 1980’s and early 90’s then you remember those faces of kids on the side of your milk carton. There you were having a bowl of Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes and in front of you a pixelated but smiling face of somebody you didn’t know, staring right back With the word Missing in large font above them. 👁 In the Mood for a movie? Check out ours called AN ANGRY BOY for FREE! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BvtlOlODQ8g&t=5238s https://tubitv.com/movies/100029672/an-angry-boy 👀 Watch This Episode On Youtube: https://youtu.be/sAEACNDdGUA 🎧 Our Other Podcast Scary Mysteries: https://open.spotify.com/show/3ZooEZMoZ421WdsOVJhVkT 💀 Exclusive Videos, Podcasts & Perks: https://www.patreon.com/scarymysteries  👁 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/andrew.fitzg 👁 TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@andrewfitzgerald 👁 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/scarymysteriesofficial 🗣 Business Inquiries, questions and comments hit us up at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

If you love true crime, grab your favorite mug and pour yourself a dose of creepy true crime every single morning with a morning cup of murder. This short daily show is the perfect podcast to incorporate into your morning routine because in less than 15 minutes, you'll hear about a true crime that took place on a day's date in history. Each day's dark history lesson will kickstart your morning with intriguing tales of murder, abduction, serial killers, cults, and everything in between.

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This was, of course, during a time in our culture, when we didn't have the internet, and simultaneously had a rash of children going missing all around America. Every kid you saw on there had a different story to tell. Law enforcement needed help. As well, the country needed to figure out a way to get the message out to as many people as possible in hopes of bringing attention to these children and ultimately bring them home. And since everybody drank milk, that's how the milk cart and kids campaign got started. Was it successful? Well, that depends on how you look at it.

Hey guys, it's Andrew. Thanks for tuning into this episode of Everytown. we're following up on some of the cases featured on those cartons back in the day. Interestingly, yes, of course, they help bring awareness with their true intention of being to help locate a lost child. But there was a side effect to seeing a poor lost kid's face every single morning of your life, and that was that it instilled a serious sense of fear. Morbid it was, but also effective. Let's get into it, head all around the country in this episode.

to explore the stories of the milk carton kids. This week, we'll mark 45 years since a young boy vanished in the Santa Catalina Mountains. Tonight, an arrest in the murder of Janelle Matthews. She disappeared 35 years ago after returning home from a Christmas concert. Back here in Iowa, today marks 40 years since the disappearance of an Iowa paper boy. Eugene Martin was just 13 years old when he went missing in Des Moines back in 1984. Well, today marks 40 years. years that one of the most high-profile cases of a missing child in modern times began in Iowa.

The story of the missing West Des Moines Paperboy continues to captivate people worldwide. Johnny Gosh. In the pale light before sunrise, on a warm Sunday in late summer, 12-year-old Johnny Gosh left his home for the last time. The year was 1982 when Johnny had a paper route to complete before most of West Des Moines had even gotten up from bed. It just so happens that during those hours that are darkest before dawn, a bad people tend to roam the streets, and on this day, Johnny came face to face with one of them.

At around 6 a.m., a neighbor heard the familiar rattle of Johnny's wagon cutting through his yard. There was another paper boy who said they had seen Johnny near the drop site, talking to a stranger in a blue car. What happened in those next few minutes? Nobody knows for sure, but it would create. create one of the most chilling mysteries of that era. Johnny Gosh would become more than a missing child. His face morphed into a black and white, tragic abstraction, placed on a milk carton. And his story warned other kids about the dangers lurking behind something as wholesome as a paper route.

And ultimately, Gosh's disappearance would change how police handle missing children cases all around the United States. But on that quiet Sunday morning, well, no one knew any of that just yet. Johnny was just a kid looking to make some spending money, heading out to do his job like any other day, only he never came home. The search for the boy began the same day he vanished. His parents called the police when he didn't return that morning. His red wagon was found abandoned on a sidewalk, still full of undelivered papers. And a move that seems unbelievably negligent today, yet was commonplace during the time. Investigators at first thought Johnny more than likely.

had just run away. It was only with the passage of time, several days, no one hearing a peep from or seeing Johnny, but the reality began to set in for authorities. And this child hadn't left on his own. Somebody must have taken him. And the weeks that followed Johnny's face appeared on posters, flyers, and billboards, and his story even made national news. But it wasn't until two years later that his face would find its way on the millions of breakfast tables across America. Just before that happened, in September of 1984, another paper boy went missing in Des Moines. And this time, it was 13-year-old Eugene Martin, who vanished on his morning route. The similarities to Johnny's case were impossible to ignore.

Two young boys, two paper routes in Iowa, two years apart, and both gone without a trace. and the public was alarmed, parents terrified, and law enforcement was frustrated by the lack of leads. It is a parent's worst nightmare to lose a child in such an unexpected way. And zooming out to the big picture, a lot of children were vanishing in towns all over the place. Some runaways and others were taken, still most were never seen again.

It was a problem. Something had to be done, but what? In an era before cell phones and social media, how do you find a missing child? The answer arrives inside every single refrigerator, because that's when a small dairy farm in Des Moines had an idea. What if they could turn their milk cartons into missing persons posters? What if every time someone poured a glass of milk, well, they saw the faces of Johnny and Eugene, reminded every single day that not only were these kids missing, and to be on the law, lookout, but also to heed the warning not to become the next victim.

It was a simple idea, but it would go on to change everything. The 1980s saw a wave of child abductions that terrified the nation. It was the pinnacle, if you will, because before that, well, cases and statistics weren't handled properly. And after, because of factors like the milk cart and kids and amber alerts, people and kids, more importantly, became educated on the dangers of child abductions. And for the first time ever, really, conversations amongst the family and in schools were being had that, yes, the world is far from perfect, and there are people out there who snatch kids away in order to do all sorts of different things with them. There's actually a name for this small chunk of time in our lives called the Missing Child Panic.

It lasted from 1979 to around 85 or 86. The event they kickstarted it was the abduction of Eaton Pats in Manhattan in 1979. And soon after that, in 81, there was the abduction from a mall and subsequent brutal murder of Adam Walsh, whose father John went on to host America's Most Wanted. And both of these cases were nationally publicized. And then, of course, there were so many others. Timothy White out in California. Vicki Hoskins and Arizona in 84.

Rachel Runyon, a three-year-old in 82, who got snatched from a playground. And Cherry Man, in 85 in Pennsylvania, disappeared after just getting off her school bus. The list really does go on and on. And the panic that ensued was mostly based around the fact that all these things were happening in places we used to consider sacred and trustful. But now, a kid can't do a paper route, or go to the mall, playing some monkey bars or even go to school. Anywhere they went, they were being watched by predators.

Because of this mindset, the numbers from the missing child panic got inflated. It was definitely cause for concern, but it was a misleading claim that still sticks in people's minds today. That 1.5 million children were disappearing each and every year. That number was statistically high, but when companies, like Anderson-Erickson-Derry in Iowa decided to use their milk cartes to help raise awareness for missing children. But now the messaging was in people's minds every single morning, first thing. So it's understandable why it got like this. This idea quickly gained traction, too, because within a few weeks, other dairy companies in Iowa followed suit.

The initiative began spreading to other cities, including Chicago, eventually reaching all the way out to California. Then, enter the National Child Safety Council. They took notice of the growing movement, and by December of 1984, they launched the first nationally coordinated Missing Children Milk Carton program, partnering with over 700 dairy companies across the U.S., helping spread the word nationwide. By March of 85, just six months after Eugene's disappearance, 700 out of 1,600 independent dairies across the U.S. had adopted the practice. Millions of milk cartons now carried the faces and stories of miscarbons.

children. On these cartons was a toll-free number of the newly created National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, 1-800-843-5678, or, as it became known, 1-800-800-the-Lost. The Mill Carton campaign was born out of desperation. It was a last-ditch effort to find children who seemed to have vanished into thin air. But it quickly became a cultural phenomenon. The daily reminder of the vulnerability of childhood in 1980s America. For parents, it was a sobering reality check with their morning coffee, and for kids, it was a chilling warning, staring back at them from their breakfast cereal. But the milk cartons weren't just about fear, and they were about hope, hope that someone somewhere would recognize a face and bring a child home. As the campaign gained

momentum, another tragic story was unfolding in Greeley, Colorado. Janelle Matthews was just 12 years old when she disappeared in 1984. We've been covering the story on CBS 4 ever since. Case was cold for decades. On December 20th of 1984, 12-year-old Janelle Matthews sang in a Christmas concert at a local bank. Her father was at her sister's basketball game at the time. Her mother was out of state caring for an ill relative. At 8.15 p.m., Janelle got a ride home from a friend's father.

She answered a phone call there and took a message for her dad. And then, like Johnny and Eugene before, Janelle vanished. When her father arrived home at 9.30 p.m., the garage door was still open. Janelle's shoes and shawl were by the heater, but his daughter was gone. This type of thing wasn't supposed to happen in a quiet Colorado town like this, but it did, and suddenly no place felt safe. As 1984 turned to 85, Janelle's face joined John. and Eugene's on milk cartons across the country, and three children from three different

states, united by absence. In Greeley, a determined group of citizens kept Janelle's case alive, pushing for answers long after the initial shock had faded. Their efforts caught the attention of the White House. On March 7th of 1985, President Ronald Reagan mentioned Janelle in a speech from the old executive office building. The missing girl from Greeley had now become a symbol of national crisis. But symbols, no matter how powerful, can't bring children home. For 35 years, the girl's disappearance remained one of Colorado's coldest cases. Her parents moved away, became missionaries in the Philippines. Her sister married and left Colorado, but in Greeley, some never forgot. Then in July of 2019, a startling discovery. Nearly 35 years would pass before

Janelle was finally found. Her remains were discovered at this oil construction site more than 20 miles from her old home. DNA testing confirmed what many had feared for decades. Janelle Matthews had been found. And finally in 2020, police arrested Stephen Penke, a former neighbor who had long been a person of interest in the case. His ex-wife claimed he'd been oddly fixated on the story for years. and Panky maintained his innocence, but a jury still found him guilty. In October of 2022, nearly 38 years after Janelle vanished, her killer was sentenced to life in prison. Janelle's story is tragic, but she wasn't alone. Over time, tales like hers were becoming all too common.

Along the rugged terrain of Pepper Sauce Canyon, Arizona, on April 7th of 1979, 10-year-old Randy Parscale was there on a hiking trip with his family. And for all of them, it was a day of celebration. Young Randy, a third grader at Roberts Elementary, had been working hard to improve his grades and behavior. This trip was his reward. Randy, his father, grandfather, uncle, and two siblings set out for a day of rock collecting. As the son climbed higher, the adults needed a break.

Randy's grandfather, Walter Goulde. Guthrie found a shady spot to rest. The boys full of energy asked to go on a hike. Yes, Guthrie said, but be careful. Those would be the last words Randy would ever hear from his family again. The terrain there is challenging, steep, rocky, and dotted with cacti and scrub oak. Randy's brother Robert got a thorn in his foot when their uncle stopped to help. But Randy grew impatient, feeling invincible like the incredible help he's so about. admired, so he kept moving on. His family yelled for him to stop, but the boy just kept moving before he rounded a bend about 200 yards from a campground at the canyon's mouth, and then,

well, nothing. Randy Parscale vanished into the Arizona wilderness. At first, no one panicked, his kids wander off all the time, but as the minutes turned into hours, the fear set in, and that's when the search began. Dozens of rescuers combed the rugged landscape, Horses roamed through the canyon and dogs sniff the ground, searching for any trace of the missing boy. Days passed by and the weather turned cruel. And snow fell, the temperatures plummeted into the 30s. Still, the searcher was pressed on. They found footprints leading to a dirt road where they suddenly stopped.

The thought was possibly Randy got into a vehicle. His father, though, was skeptical, as the prince didn't match Randy's shoes. Five and a half, grueling days later, the official search was called off. A total cost $50,000 and one life. A searcher named Manuel Navarro who died of a heart attack on the fifth day. But the story doesn't end there, and strange clues began to surface. A camper claimed to have seen Randy late in the afternoon on the day he vanished, but before police could question him further, well, he just disappeared. The years go by, Randy's face appears on milk cartons and many homes. His family refused.

to give up. In 1985, a glimmer of hope as a woman in West Virginia finds a dollar bill with a cryptic message. It says, I'm alive in Phoenix, Arizona. Help me. Randy Parscale. Is it really him or a cruel hoax? Leeds kept coming in. A man in Phoenix using Randy's social security number, psychics offering conflicting visions. Have you ever heard of the legend of the butterfly boy at Pepper Sauce Canyon and Oracle. That story is based on a real person, Randy Parksgale. Tomorrow marks 44 years since a Tucson family last saw their 10-year-old boy who went missing. It's been 45 years since then, and this is what Randy would look like now. If he's still alive, he'd be over 50 years old. Although his father passed away in 2003,

the rest of his family still lives in the Tucson area, hoping, or the face once printed on milk cartons, finally reappear, safe and sound. As Randy's case, captivated the nation, a quieter drama was unfolding in another part of the country. That's the story of Bonnie Lohman, a little girl who would become one of the rare success stories of the missing children milk carton program. You see, Bonnie's story is different. She wasn't taken by a stranger or got lost in the wilderness.

She was taken by people she knew and trusted, her own mother and stepfather. Bonnie was just three years old when she was abducted, and for years they all lived a nomadic life, moving from place to place. Spain, Hawaii, they were always on the move, always looking over their shoulders. Bonnie wasn't allowed to play outside or even make friends. Her world was small, confined, and controlled. But Bonnie's biological father never gave up in the search and did everything he could. until one day in Colorado fate and perseverance intertwined in a very unique way

and Bonnie, who was now seven years old, was at a grocery store with her stepfather. As they walked down the dairy aisle, something caught her eye. And there, on the side of a milk carton was a face she recognized, a familiar face, her own. Bonnie couldn't read the words missing child above the photo. She didn't understand the significance of what she was seeing. but she knew it was her and she was fascinated. Excited, she pointed it out to her stepfather. In a moment of unexpected kindness or perhaps guilt,

he bought the carton and let Bonnie cut out her picture. He warned her to keep it a secret, but secrets with little kids have a way of getting out, which often isn't a bad thing. And this small piece of cardboard held the key to her freedom. Days passed by and Bonnie played with her toys and the milk carton photo, tucked among them. And then one day she accidentally left her bag of toys,

including that photo at a neighbor's house. And those neighbors, curious about the smiling girl in the picture, looked closer. They saw the words missing child and recognized Bonnie. And suddenly Bonnie's hidden world came crashing down. Police arrived, questions were asked, and finally, after years of separation, she was reunited with her dad.

and it was a miracle born from a carton. The family reunited because a little girl recognized her own face on a common household item. Bonnie's case became a beacon of hope for families and missing children everywhere, as it proved that the milk carton program could really work. That sometimes a face on them could bring home a child, but there was also a truth. In cases like Bonnie's were the exception and not the rule. As the years rolled on, the face.

cases on the milk cartons changed. New children disappeared. Old cases went cold. The public's initial shock gave way to a grim familiarity. The critics began to question the effectiveness of the entire campaign. In the early 80s, law enforcement struggled to keep up with all the missing child cases, and there was no centralized system for tracking them, no quick way to spread the word when a kid vanished. And that's why they relied on those milk boxes. But how to have you? How do you? It's why, many children had actually been found because of this initiative. I sure Bonnie was a success story, but for every Bonnie, there were dozens of children who remained missing.

Johnny Goss, Eugene Martin, Janelle Matthews, Randy Parscale, and many more. Their faces became as familiar as the nutritional facts. They just blended into the entire packaging. Critics argue that the program was overstating the risk of stranger danger. The campaign, they said, was creating un-nosticating. necessary fear. Others pointed out racial disparities in the program, and most of the children featured were white, even though statistics show that children of color were more likely to go missing. And this bias in representation meant that many missing children of color didn't receive the same

level of attention or resources. And there were legal issues as well. Questions arose about who had the right to put a child's photo on a milk carton? What if a non-custodial parent objected? What if the child had run away from an abusive home? And then there was the whole issue with the industry itself. In first, the dairy sector was moving from cardboard milk cartons to plastic, which made the packaging process more complicated. And second, some people, like political analyst, Adam Garfinkel, think there might have been a financial angle to it all. The companies have been getting tax breaks for years by putting images of missing children on their milk cartons as a public service. To make things worse, the milk carton campaigns lost their effectiveness,

because people just stopped noticing them altogether. With missing children's images all around, folks became so accustomed to seeing them that they stopped really looking. The original goal of putting those faces on cartons was to attract attention, but now, well, it was doing the opposite. However, others say, well, there's no doubt that an untold amount of kids back then, fresh after seeing these faces, especially when they first started getting printed, were on their way to or from school when they were approached by someone promising them candy or a ride home. And the milk carton kids flashed in their minds, so they declined. As a result, they avoided a life-altering or even life-ending encounter. By the late 1980s, the milk carton campaign was fading. New technologies were

emerging, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, founded back in 84, was developing more targeted approaches to finding missing kids. In 1996, the Amber Alert system was created, and today, when a child goes missing, information spreads at the speed of light. Amber Alerts buzz on millions of phones, digital billboards, flash descriptions, and last known locations, and social media amplifies the call for help. Maybe the faces of missing children aren't our milk cartons anymore, but they're still present and beyond just around the breakfast table. Because while the milk cartons may have changed, the missing children still remain. So, the surge continues. Because somewhere out there, someone knows something, and maybe the next call, the next tip,

the next clue, will be the one that brings a child home. Every missing kid deserves to be found, Every story deserves an ending, even if it's not one we hope for. Until then, we remember, we hope, and all of us should never stop looking. So that's it for this week's episode of Everytown. Hope y'all enjoyed it. If you're looking for a creepy thriller movie to watch, you can check out the one that the team from Everytown made entirely for free, either on YouTube or Tooby.

Links are down below. It's called an angry boy. I wrote and directed it, so please go check it out. Just trust me, you'll see exactly why his rage is well deserved. Remember to come back next week for another episode for What Scary, Strange, and Mysterious Stories, because you never know. Maybe your town will be next.