Murder In America - EP. 215 - NEW YORK: The Unsolved Murders Of 9/11

Episode Date: September 12, 2025

September 11th, 2001 is a day that we will never forget. But there seem to have been a few victims, who were murdered or disappeared on that same day, in the same state, who were indeed forgotten. Join us today as we examine three separate cases of unsolved murders or disappearances that happened in New York on September 11th, 2001, one of which occurred only blocks from the World Trade Center. - Listen to our new show, "THE CONSPIRACY FILES"!: -Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/5IY9nWD2MYDzlSYP48nRPl -Apple Podcasts - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-conspiracy-files/id1752719844 -Amazon/Audible - https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/ab1ade99-740c-46ae-8028-b2cf41eabf58/the-conspiracy-files -Pandora - https://www.pandora.com/podcast/the-conspiracy-files/PC:1001089101 -iHeart - https://iheart.com/podcast/186907423/ -PocketCast - https://pca.st/dpdyrcca -CastBox - https://castbox.fm/channel/id6193084?country=us - Stay Connected: Join the Murder in America fam in our free Facebook Community for a behind-the-scenes look, more insights and current events in the true crime world: https://www.facebook.com/groups/4365229996855701 If you want even more Murder in America bonus content, including ad-free episodes, come join us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/murderinamerica Instagram: http://instagram.com/murderinamerica/ Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/people/Murder-in-America-Podcast/100086268848682/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/MurderInAmerica TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@theparanormalfiles and https://www.tiktok.com/@courtneybrowen Feeling spooky? Follow Colin as he travels state to state (and even country to country!) investigating claims of extreme paranormal activity and visiting famous haunted locations on The Paranormal Files Official Channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/TheParanormalFilesOfficialChannel - (c) BLOOD IN THE SINK PRODUCTIONS 2025 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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it's easy sometimes to feel like you have to figure it all out on your own. But the truth is, nobody has all the answers. And no journey should be taken alone. However, having someone with you to listen, to understand, and to support you can make all the difference. I know that I'm a huge therapy advocate I've advocated for therapy for years. And if you want to give therapy a try, BetterHelp is a great place to start. BetterHelp therapists work according to a strict code of conduct and are fully licensed in the U.S. BetterHelp also does the initial matching work for you, so you can focus on your therapy goals. A short questionnaire helps identify your needs and preferences,

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The following podcast is not suitable for all audiences. We go into great detail with every case that we cover and do our best to bring viewers even deeper into the stories by utilizing disturbing audio and sound effects. Trigger warnings from the stories we cover may include violence, rape, murder, and offenses against children. This podcast is not for everyone. You have been warned. On the morning of September 11th, 2001,

millions of Americans watched in horror as commercial plane struck the World Trade Center. That morning, fire and steel rained down upon the heads of Manhattan citizens, and they all ran from the clouds of smoke and debris. But others rushed into the devastation, desperate to help those trapped in the horror that had unleashed itself.

upon New York City and beyond. Across the nation, military and rescue workers brace themselves for more attacks, and New York's first responders launched the greatest rescue efforts of their lives. Many would not survive the day. Yet beyond the collapse of the Twin Towers, other tragedies unfolded in the shadows, eclipsed by the greater chaos occurring in New York City, Pennsylvania, and Virginia.

families of missing loved ones were left to search for answers, though not all of them were lost to the Twin Towers on that fateful day. As it turns out, evil does not stop for any crisis, no matter how devastating. And so, this is the tale of three mysteries, three cases that went cold beneath the shadows of 9-11. From a doctor who vanished without a trace, to a murder without a culprit, And finally, a mother who never saw her children again. These three cases went without a resolution,

their families forced to go on without closure. And though they were not directly caused by the 9-11 attacks, the investigations of these victims were hindered by the intense rescue efforts occurring night and day. They may not have been victims of the tower's collapse, but they were no less affected by the madness and horror of 9-11. A day that we are reminded to never forget. So let's remember together.

I'm Courtney Browen. And I'm Colin Browen. And you're listening to Murder in America. The fact that Sneha Phillips was even in New York City in September of 2001 is both a miracle and a tragedy, a twist of fate made by millions, billions of choices and chances. Sneha's story doesn't begin in New York, or even in the U.S. Her story takes us nearly 9,000 miles away, onto the white sand beaches of the Malabar Coast, looking out over the Indian Ocean.

Kerala, India is one of the most breathtaking and inspiring places on Earth. There you'll find thousands of miles of sandy, palm-lined coastline, and even more miles of canals that wind through the interior of the area. Between the waterways, spice and tea plantations dot the evergreen mountains, giving the landscape a tropical, almost otherwere. worldly feel. It was here in this beautiful place that Ansu Philip and Dr. Philip K. Philip welcomed their daughter into the world. Sneha Ann Phillips was born on October 7, 1969, into a family who adored her the moment they laid eyes on her. Her name, which is common in Kerala, roughly

translates to one who brings love. And if you ask many of the people who knew Snaja, they'll tell you that there couldn't have been a better name for her. From a young age, Snaja was bright, friendly, gregarious, and above all kind. She matched the energy and warmth of her native Kerala, but she wouldn't spend long there. In 1973, when she was four years old, her father, a radiologist, won a visa lottery for doctors, allowing her, her mother, and her oldest brother, Ashwin, to immigrate to the United States. It was a major choice made quite literally by the luck of the draw. One of many that would lead Sneha to become one of the greatest mysteries of one of the most tragic days in American history. Adjusting to that American life wasn't easy. Initially,

Sneha didn't speak the language. Her brother Ashwin recalls, quote, when we moved to the United States, Snaja and I were the only people our age who we knew could understand us since we didn't speak English. I can honestly say that she was the only person that understood me and vice versa for the early years of our lives. End quote. And that kind of connection was the foundation for the rest of their lives. Sneha's understanding of her brother and her motherly nature led Ashwin to refer to her as Chi-Chi, a term meaning older sister, despite the fact that she was actually 13 months younger than him. But in this brave new world, Sneyha, who was bold and brave, even at a young age,

guided her older brother and made him feel right at home. And soon, the family welcomed another child, John, who also relished in his sister's caring nature. In a 2011 interview he reminisced, quote, I was younger than her. She would smother me with affection and baby me. She would constantly play with my ears, and I would tell her to stop. I was always trying to show my independence, but I was always her baby. My mother always told me that she treated me as if I was her own baby.

She loved me and always made me feel smart and handsome. She believed in me more than anyone in my life. And she understood who I was. She always accepted me the way that I was, end quote. And that was the case for everyone. Sneha accepted people as they were. But as you'll see, it seems she had trouble in her later life, extending herself that same grace.

But throughout her teenage years, Snejas seemed to be confident in who she was and what she liked. Her brothers remembered that she loved to dance, often dragging them into the family room or she would play Beatles records and urge them to dance alongside her. She was pure energy. It's who she was and what she loved. When she threw herself into the world of art,

she wasn't the type to worship Rembrandt or Beethoven. She loved music and paintings that showcased what she loved about the world, the mess and beauty and color of it all. Jackson Pollock, famous for his frenetic action paintings, was her favorite painter. She had posters of Duran Duran and Billy Idle lining her childhood bedroom. When she wasn't listening to or looking at energetic art, she was creating it. She played the flute and the piano and took the painting and writing as her main forms of expression. They are the cornerstones of who she was as a person,

cornerstones that many believe only add to the mystery of what happened to her in 2001. Because though Sneyha loved art and was an artist at heart, those close to her suggest that there was a push from her family to pursue another path. Medicine. In 1987, she graduated from Emma Willard, one of the highest ranking private schools in New York. The excellent grades in education she received there allowed her to get into John Hopkins School of Medicine in Baltimore, Maryland.

Now you'll likely recognize that name. and for good reason. John Hopkins is consistently the top-ranked medical school in the country, and their acceptance rate hovers around 5%, making it as competitive as schools like Harvard. But that competition didn't seem to bother Sneha. Her former classmate at John Hopkins, Natalie Pompealio, recalled, quote,

I remember her as vivacious and smart, someone who drew people to her, end quote. Sheenha was so loved that when she joined a sorority, she became one of the most popular members, serving as the treasurer and making many long-lasting friendships. But she didn't just excel socially. She did academically too. When she graduated in 1991 from her pre-med courses, she did so with honors. And soon after, she was off to Seattle, where she expanded on her love of art while attending the year.

University of Washington. Now, if you know anything about Seattle in the 90s, the word grunge probably comes to mind. The rain-slicked city was a hub for counterculture, drawing artists of all types from across the United States and the world. And Sneha was in the middle of it, living in the neighborhood of Capitol Hill, known for its venues and bars frequented by up-and-coming grunge bands and for its LGBTQ-friendly atmosphere. Sneha fit right in. The boyfriend of her roommate at the time recalls,

that Sneha was cool, but not cool in the way that many transplants were. Some people moved to Seattle to feel better about themselves, to play the part of a brooding artist or a misunderstood character. But he remembers Snehah as warm, friendly, easy to talk to, and funny. When she wasn't at school, she was going to underground raves and dancing until the sun came up, and she wasn't alone. She had a good group of friends, and her brother, John, briefly moved to the city with her, enjoying seeing his sister flourish in her newfound freedom. But soon, through the haze of Capitol Hill and the pounding drum and base, her career began to call her.

That call led her to the Chicago Medical School in 1994, where she aimed to finish her degree. But there was something else she found there, something she didn't even know she was looking for. In 1995, into one of her classes walked a tall, long-haired Jewish boy from California. and just laying eyes on him, she knew she had found her kindred spirit. Like we mentioned,

Sneha was an artist at heart, despite her pursuing a path to be a doctor. Day in and day out, she was surrounded by analytical minds, statistics, and high-stake procedures and tests. But when that man walked into her classroom, she saw something different,

another artist. His name was Ron Lieberman. an aspiring emergency physician from the Los Angeles area, who was a musician in every sense of the word. Ron composed his own songs. He played guitar and he performed anywhere he could, even with his busy schedule. And soon after walking into that classroom,

his schedule got even busier because he fell head over heels for Sneha Phillips. There are certain people that you meet in your life who just you connect with so strongly, and right away we knew and basically inseparable since the first day we met. The two fell in love over long nights talking about music and art, trying to keep up with their rigorous curriculum

and slipping away from their responsibilities for sushi and jazz music whenever the opportunity arose. But it didn't take long for their romance to blossom into something serious, something that was much, much more than just a college fling. Things were so passionate between the two, that since Ron was a year behind her, Sneha decided to take the year off from school so they could graduate at the same time. While Ron caught up, Sneha got herself an apartment in Florence, Italy, and moved abroad for several months. There, the love she felt for both Ron and life in general grew.

She painted every day, ate luxurious food, listened to music, and she indulged in all of the things she didn't have time for, while she was in school. According to friends, she contemplated if she even wanted to go back to medicine or if she wanted to travel and try her hand at being an artist full time. But by the time Ron visited her in 1997, it seems she had made her decision. After a romantic vacation exploring the streets of Florence, Ron led Sneha out into a balcony overlooking the city.

There he got down on one knee. looked the love of his life in the eye and asked her to marry him. Sneha overjoyed, told him yes. And shortly after, the two were back in Chicago, graduating hand in hand and looking towards a bright future together. With a romance that led them from India to Los Angeles to Chicago to Florence, the two could have ended up anywhere in the world as they embarked on their next adventure, their residency program.

Now, a residency program is where doctors who have recently graduated practice medicine for the first time under the supervision of experienced doctors. They are carefully monitored, giving guidance, and unfortunately, they often have the limits of their stress tested. The hours are long and relentless, with every intern clocking in over 40 hours a week, some up to 80 hours a week. Their schedules often change from daytime to nighttime shifts at the drop of a hat, leading to a high level of stress and burnout. But that's precisely part of the reason why Schneeha and Ron were so thrilled to be assigned to New York City for their residencies. Sneha's family was just a little over an hour away,

which offered them support as they struggled through their tough educational period. Ron settled at Jacoby Medical Center in the Bronx, where he pursued emergency medicine, and Sneha landed at the Cabrini Medical Center in Manhattan. It was a stressful, albeit exciting time. And if you're already stressed and excited, why not throw a wedding into the mix? In May of 2000, Snajah and Ron stepped into a fairy tale.

Their stunning multicultural ceremony was held at the Duchess County Inn, near where Snaja had grown up. The night prior, Snaja sat with her closest loved ones as her hands and feet were painted with intricate Hena designs during her Mendi ceremony, a traditional ceremony meant to symbolize good fortune and to ward off evil. With her friends and family, she did what she loved to do the most. She danced and sang and swapped stories with the most important people in her life. She was a picture of beauty, and in the videos and photos of her wedding the next day,

it's clear that she was in a state of pure bliss. She wore a glorious white wedding dress with traditional Indian jewelry, including a gold Mong tika jewels that rest on the center of a woman's forehead just below the hairline. And during the ceremony, she receives even more jewelry. Ron gently ties a beautiful gold teardrop-shaped necklace called a Minu around her neck, her eyes flecked with happy tears. The tying of the necklace is meant to symbolize the inseparable bond between the husband and wife. Watching the two exchange vows and share a soft sweet,

kiss, it's impossible not to feel the strength of that bond. Ron went even further to express his feelings, composing a song just for her titled, Wow, She's So Great, which she had the jazz band at their wedding surprise her with. Still buzzing from the joy of their union, the two moved into a one-bedroom apartment at 225 rector place in Battery Park City, just four blocks from the World Trade Center. For a while, everything about their new life as husband and wife was bliss. Though their hours were demanding, forcing them to spend much of their time apart, they seemed to indulge in the time that they spent together. They frequently made the trek to Greenwich Village, where they'd float from lounge to lounge, listening to jazz music and sipping on cocktails together to brush off their stress. During their rare nights at home, they would snuggle their kittens and watch movies, or they would work on their different art projects.

Ron continued to play guitar, and Sneha continued to paint when she could. From the outside, everything seemed perfect. They were in their late 20s, married, on their way to wealth, living the jobs of their dreams, while residing in one of the most incredible cities on earth, in a luxury apartment, just as stone throws away from the World Trade Center. For a lot of people, they couldn't have a more perfect life. But as we've seen throughout this podcast, looks can be deceiving. Because beneath their seemingly perfect life, there were secrets, struggles, and failures,

all of which would be on display for the world and the aftermath of the couple's greatest tragedy. Sneha and Philip was a lot of things. A genius, an artist, kind, giving, hardworking, and at the same time, deeply troubled. Some called her manipulative, irresponsible. Some claimed she was hypersexual, blunt, inappropriate. Since the dawn of time in our stories, we as humans have liked to have a hero and a villain, a saint and a sinner, an underdog, and an oppressor.

As we dive into this next chapter of Sneha's life, it's important to remember that she isn't a character in a story. She was a multifaceted person living her life as best as she could. We feel it's important to talk about what happened to her, not judgmentally, but accurately. Sneha is all the things we've said, brilliant, loving, wonderful, warm, but at the same time, she could be the other things we're about to hear. And that's okay. That doesn't diminish her worth or everything that she worked for. Sometimes life is hard, and sometimes tragedy strikes when life's already at its hardest.

In spring of 2001, Sneha's promising medical career began to crumble around her. John Walgzag developed a podcast missing on 9-11, where he did in-depth research and interviews with some of the people who knew Sneha. That includes one of her supervisors, Dr. E, at Cabrini Medical Center from 2000 to May of 2001, when Sneha was effectively fired. Dr. E claims in that podcast that throughout Snaja's time at Cabrini, it was very clear that she was struggling. Week by week, her death.

dedication deteriorated, and she began to act inappropriately. Here are some clips from the podcast, giving some insight into how at least one of Sneha's supervisors perceived her. She seemed troubled during her time with me. She just seemed troubled, unhappy at times. You know, a little bit of a loner, I would say. What was her personality like? If she were to walk into the room and start speaking with you, what was she like? Outspoken, sometimes using curse words, you know, a little outspoken.

Sometimes you get the feeling that it was for shock value. She wasn't always into her work as the feeling that I got. What do you mean by that? She would show up not prepared to work, is what I would say, not prepared to work and didn't do her homework in order to do her work. I witnessed alcohol in her breath in one occasion and had to send her. were home. Only one time? That occasion was regarding alcohol. Other occasions were just really ill-prepared. According to Dr. E. and court records, Sneyhaal was struggling with drinking on the job,

and she had an uninterested attitude when it came to her work. It was clear to her and her co-workers that Sneyha's mind was somewhere else, and that, in their opinion, she didn't even want to be there. Did you get the feeling that she wanted to be a doctor? Absolutely not. She did not, and actually she'd voiced it to me on many occasions, kind of felt pushed into it, maybe there's some other social pressures, family pressures, I'm not sure, but she kind of felt pushed into it and didn't feel it was a good fit for her.

She was more on the artistic side. Whatever was happening, whether she wanted to be a doctor or not, it was clear that Sneja was struggling. But according to Dr. E, just her workload and drinking that made her a problem at Cabrini. It was her behavior towards her coworkers and superiors. On more than one occasion, Sneha was asked to leave the office because she, quote, exhibited inappropriate sexual behavior towards attending physicians, end quote. At one point in her interview, Dr. E. described these as isolated incidents, but more than one. In addition,

though Dr. E refused to give details, she disclosed to John that Snea had made sexual advances on both her and her ex-husband, who worked in the same department. As a result of this behavior and her performance in May, Cabrini allowed Sneha's contract to expire, refusing to renew it. For interns in their residency, this is effectively being fired. Dr. E expressed that even though Sneha was not given an opportunity to come back, and she had some of these rather negative views of her, she still really liked her. Even in her darkest moments, while she was making poor choices,

because Sneyha was hard for the people around her to truly dislike. Now, you would think that this would be the end of Sneyha's story at Cabrini, but that's not the case. Even though they allowed her contract to expire in May, she still had to work until that contract ended, which was at the end of June 2001. But there was an incident that would occur around this time that changed everything. On the night of June 21st, Snazah went to a bar near,

Cabrini with several of her coworkers. And according to court records, Sneha alleged that a male superior followed her into the bathroom at a bar, pushed himself against her, trying to kiss her against her will. Sneha managed to escape, but what happened after is chaotic, to say the least. After this incident, Snaja reportedly barged into her supervisor's apartment, refusing to leave. Now it's worth noting that the two did live at the same apartment complex and on the same floor, which adds some context into why she was there and how she knew where he lived.

After the police were called, Sneyha told them about the supposed incident in the bathroom at the bar. The two were separated for the night, but the conflict didn't stop there. Sneyha ended up calling her co-worker's wife several times. Then she called her co-worker repeatedly at work. In her final call, she left a message saying, quote, If you don't want to speak to me, I'm going to fuck you up when I see you in the street.

End quote. But on June 26th, Sneha recanted her statement to law enforcement, claiming that she wasn't actually sexually assaulted. We feel it's important to note that we don't and probably will never know the truth of this incident. Was Sneha pushed into recanting her statement? or did it actually never happen, and the whole conflict was fueled by something else entirely.

Regardless, police felt like they had more than enough evidence, and the doctor involved in the incident decided to press charges. Stayout was initially charged with one count of criminal trespassing, one count of third-degree assault, one count of falsely reporting an incident, three counts of second-degree harassment, and two counts of second-degree aggravated harassment. In total, she spent just one night in jail before she and her husband, husband Ron hired an attorney to handle her case. But as you can see, things were not going well for her. Unfortunately, by all accounts, it wasn't just within her career, it was in her marriage as well. According to her husband and others, Sneha would frequently stay out at bars late into the night

and spend the night with people she had met there. Often, she would meet women at popular lesbian bars in Greenwich and go home with them. Though in one interview, Ron claimed that she simply went with these women to work on art with them, not for any sexual reasons. However, in other interviews with police, he has stated that there was indeed infidelity in their relationship. We'll dive back into this supposed infidelity later, because it wasn't until after 9-11 that it really came to light. But even in all of this chaos, Snehaal was still trying to work towards her future. She even landed herself another internship, this time at St. Vincent's Medical Center on Staten island. But due to her previous behavior, she was ordered to attend substance abuse counseling

sessions, but after not showing up for them, she was put on probation, meaning she could go to work, but she was suspended from the majority of her duties in order to preserve patient safety. Because of this, her workload slowly diminished. And on September 10, 2001, she found herself with three days off in a row. Unfortunately, that morning, on her first day off, she had a big task to overcome, her first court appearance for the incident on June 21st. Now little information is available about what happened in the courthouse, but on the front steps of that courthouse, she and her husband Ron reportedly got into a heated argument. Over what? We don't know. But given the nature of the offense, it's not supposed to be a moment. It's not supposed to be a

surprising that there would be some tension. The two returned to their apartment after the argument, and according to Ron, they made up, at least enough to kiss goodbye. I kissed her, I told her I loved her, and I left. Luckily, I left my keys at home. So I went back and I got to kiss her again, and that was the last time that I saw her. From there, Ron went back to work, completely unaware that in less than 24 hours, both the city that he loved and the life that he lived were going to look completely different.

But for Sneha, it seems that they already did. She spent the morning cleaning the apartment to prepare for her cousin, who was due to visit later in the week. In spite of the stressful morning, there was a moment of light. She repotted four purple and white orchids that she had just ordered from Hawaii. She then set them in the bathtub to dry out, and in between tasks, chatted with her mother. According to Sneyha's mom, everything was completely ordinary. She was excited to talk about Ron's recent musical performance at a party over the weekend and mentioned plans to check out windows on the world,

a venue in the north tower of the World Trade Center where a friend's wedding would be held in the coming spring. By 4 p.m., after two hours of catching up with her mom, Sneha ended the conversation, saying she needed to run errands. Dressing in a brown short-sleeved dress and sandals, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and left the apartment with Ron's American Express card in hand. She left the rest of her cards, including her driver's license behind, and walked out of the apartment complex, waving goodbye to the doorman sometime around 5 p.m. When Ron returned home close to midnight, exhausted after a 12-hour shift,

he was surprised to find their apartment empty, aside from the couple's two kittens. Now, as we've covered, it wasn't. It wasn't unusual for Sneha to spend entire nights away from the apartment. And often these excursions were completely innocent. At the end of the day, Sneyha didn't like being alone. So oftentimes if Ron was working late, she would go to her brother, Johns, who lived just a few blocks away. Sometimes she would even stay the night there. Now remember, this is 2001.

Not everyone had a cell phone, including Sneha. Because of this, she wasn't able to quickly text Ron telling her where she was or her plans for that night, and in general, people were a lot less connected than they are today. So when Ron didn't hear from her, he was more annoyed than he was worried. For a moment, he thought about calling her brother John to check in, but he also knew that John and Sneha hadn't been talking. If Sneha went over there to reconcile, which she would have done, He didn't want to interrupt them.

So with that, Ron curled into bed. He only had a few hours to sleep before his next shift at the medical center. And those hours would go by quickly. Now, something that is a bit of a question mark in this story is that on the morning of September 11th at 4 a.m., a phone call was made from inside Ron and Sneha's apartment. To this day, the call has never been fully explained. In the beginning, Ron said that,

that he didn't even remember taking the call. However, after some thinking, he said that he may have done it when he was half awake to check the voicemail on his cell phone. But nonetheless, a few hours later, when the sun rose over New York City on September 11, 2001, Ron opened his eyes to see that Sneha still hadn't come home.

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about staying out all night without calling him to let him know. It was a talk they had many times before, but hopefully this time, with everything going on, it would stick. Now soon enough, Ron made it to work, along with millions of other New Yorkers bustling their ways through the subways. It was essentially the calm before the storm. To everyone in New York and around the world, it was just an average day. But several thousand of those people, people that walked right past Ron, were unknowingly walking to their deaths in the World Trade Centers. Ron was on the other side of town for most of that morning, but as his boss droned on about hospital protocol, just 15 miles away, American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

Plane crash. Hey, Beth. What is that? Somebody hit the World Trade Center. It's a Trade Center. We want to tell you what we know as we know it. We just got a report in that there's been some sort of explosion at the World Trade Center in New York City. One report said, and we can't confirm any of this, that a plane may have hit.

hit one of the two towers of the World Trade Center. At first, no one had any idea what had happened. The news reports in the city itself were in utter chaos. When Ron emerged from the meeting and found his co-worker staring at the TV, wide-eyed in horror, he asked what was going on. They explained that it must have been a horrible mistake, a plane that malfunctioned and lost altitude coming into LaGuardia. And even if it was just that, it was horrific.

But the illusion that it was an accident was shattered at 903 a.m. As the nation watched United Airlines Flight 175 slam into the South Tower. Let's our six, seven floors were taken out. And there's more explosions right now. Hold on. Hold on just a moment. We've got an explosion inside. The guy is exploding right now.

You got people running up the street. Okay. Oh, my God. Another plane has just hit. It hit another building. Flew right into the middle of it. Explosions. Right God, it's right in the middle of the building. And then soon after, the second tower went down in a plume of fire, smoke, and debris,

carrying thousands of innocent lives with it. The second building that was hit by the plane has just completely collapsed. The entire building has just collapsed, as if a demolition team, set off when you see the old demolition to these old buildings, it pulled it down on itself and it is not there anymore. That should be it. Thanks very much, that. The whole side has collapsed? The whole building has collapsed.

The whole building has collapsed? As Ron watched the catastrophe unfold, his instincts as a doctor took over. He and the others expected a flood of injured survivors to soon be pouring through the doors of Jacoby. At this point, no one had any idea that survivors were going to be hard to come by. In the panic, Ron called the apartment trying to check in with Sneha to warn her to evacuate the apartment if she could. He assumed that his wife was safe. She was never really one to go to the towers in the way that all locals typically avoid

tourist traps. He assumed maybe she was watching the coverage just like he was. Or that the lines were tied up. Or maybe she had even gone to St. Vincent's in desperation to help save him. some of the victims. By the time the North Tower collapsed, it became clear to Ron that there would be no survivors to treat. As he had been waiting for patience, he repeatedly called home, leaving messages on the answering machine, urging Sneha to call him back. He hoped that his wife would return his call, but as the hours passed, his unease became outright fear. Finally,

he reached out to family, hoping that they would ease his concerns. But their responses only deepened his panic. Sneha's mother hadn't spoken to her since the previous afternoon, and her brothers hadn't heard from her in days. Ron said his stomach sank. Schneeha hadn't been at her brother's house the night before like he had assumed, and the possibilities began to nod him. Was she caught in the chaos unfolding across the city?

Or worse? Had something happened to her last night? Where was she last night? Unable to rest until he knew where his wife had gone, he hitched a ride with an ambulance headed towards Lower Manhattan. But the journey was agonizing. Roads were clogged with panicked crowds and debris. And what should have been a quick drive became a trip that almost lasted six hours.

Six hours of passing panicked faces, debris, sobbing strangers, all watching in horror as their city was forever changed. By the time he reached Battery City Park at 9 p.m., his neighborhood was unrecognizable. Police barricades blocked every entrance, overturned fire trucks and burning cars littered the streets, and choking smoke filled the air. Using his position as a doctor, he was able to push past the police tape, but he quickly found that entering his apartment was impossible. The power was out, so he wasn't even able to get the doors open. Despite his best efforts, Ron was forced to give up on trying to get into the apartment

to find Sneha. So hoping against reason that she might be there, he finally turned away from the door. Exhausted and afraid, he walked to a friend's apartment nearby. He needed to get some sleep, but he was kept awake by the horror of today's events and his missing wife. Waking up in New York on September 12th was awakening into a nightmare. Ron stumbled out into the streets, which looked as though they had been plucked out of an apocalyptic movie. He no longer recognized the neighborhood he called home, and when he finally made it to his apartment, he didn't recognize that either.

Soot covered every inch of the apartment. The couple had left a window open to allow the, cool fall air in, but instead it allowed clouds of toxic debris to settle on every surface. Analytic and desperate for answers, Ron searched the apartment for proof that Sneha had returned in his absence. He searched the dust for her footprints, but the only prints left were Figa and Callies. The kittens mewed up at Ron, their eyes shining out from their soot-covered faces. Panic rising, Ron called out Sneha's name, searching every room and checking the answering machine. There was still no sign of his wife, and by that evening, he was on the streets with

flyers in hand, desperate to find just one person who had seen her. Sadly, though, at the time, he wasn't alone. New York City was overflowing with people searching for those that they loved, and Ron was quickly swallowed up by the crowds. At the 9-11 help center on Lexington Avenue, he saw news vans and cameras waiting to take stories from Manhattan residents. With these, his hopes were ignited, thinking that the media coverage might help spread Sneyha's picture nationwide, but news crews quickly turned him away. Because she had technically vanished before the attacks, her story was not deemed newsworthy. They only wanted real stories of 9-11. In desperation, Ron called Sneyha's brother, John, and told him to come down to the news crews. They had to

figure out a way to get her name out there. John had an idea, one that, even in retrospect, neither of them regret. In an interview with NYMAG, Ron said, these types of lies, white lies, they're completely understandable. And if anyone else had a loved one missing in the chaos of 9-11, I suspect that they would do the same if it meant getting answers. When John walked up to the local news station, WABC, he then told a lie on camera.

I was on the phone with her and she told me that she was, she couldn't leave because there was people who were hurt. And the last thing, I said, selfishly, I told her, come on, you know, just leave the building. And she said, no, I have to help this person over here. And it's the last thing I heard from her. Sneyha was no longer a missing person. She was a missing hero. John's version of events gained attention quickly.

W-A-B-C ran with the story, airing Sneyhaugh's photo alongside it. The news story gave Ron hope that someone would call in with information. but in the meantime, he turned to the police, filing two missing persons reports. Now, at the time he filed the reports, there were thousands of other grieving families doing the exact same thing. Every cop and every precinct of New York was cycling through duties at the towers, helping pick through debris, closing off the streets, and searching for any survivors. But Ron wasn't letting Sneha disappear quietly. He wasn't letting her disappear, at all. Now, detectives had ruled that she had died in the Twin Towers, as Snehaw had mentioned

in passing that she wanted to eat at the restaurant at the top of the towers. Her mentioning this led them to believe that she must have done just that on her day off work. But Ron was determined to find answers. To him and Snaja's family, there was absolutely no conclusive evidence that she had even gone to the towers that day. So Ron and her family, Their family launched their own investigation, starting with retracing Sneha's steps. He remembered that she had taken his American Express card, and so he contacted the bank. Charges on the card gave him his very first trail to follow. On the 10th, she had dropped off dry cleaning, then shopped at Century 21, a discount luxury store,

just two blocks from the World Trade Center. He hurried to find the store, only to find it shuttered in the aftermath of the terror attacks. Refusing to give up, Ron recruited a few of his friends. to begin posting flyers at other Century 21 locations across the city. And surprisingly, their efforts soon paid off. A clerk named Sonia Mora had relocated to Brooklyn after the disaster, but she recognized Sneha from the flyer. Sonia confirmed meeting Sneha in the store on the 10th,

and looking at a receipt, was able to confirm with Ron that she had bought bed sheets, lingerie, a dress, pantyhoes, and three pairs of shoes. Sneha loved fashion. Honestly, love probably isn't even a strong enough word. Her brother John stated, quote, Her truth was embedded in great empathy, though she loved fashion and beautiful things.

It was not for its vanity, but for its form. When she bought clothes, she appreciated the intricacies of the knit, the energy of the colors, end quote. That deep passion for clothes, combined with the fact that Sonia recognized Sneha as a regular customer, confirmed for Ron that he was on the exact right path. But then Sonia added something that didn't sound quite right. Sneha hadn't been alone.

She had been with a friend, a woman in her early 30s, shorter than Sneha and also of Indian descent. But Ron was confused. Sneha didn't have any friends matching that description, at least that he knew of, and after looking through her computer and their home phone, he knew that she hadn't contacted anyone on the 10th, except for her mother and brother.

Needing answers. Ron requested to see the security footage, and although there were no cameras in the shoe department, he was able to view the footage from other areas of the store. For three weeks, Ron sat in the store's office combing through tapes. He must have felt that he was again at a dead end. Until finally, he caught a glimpse of his wife browsing the coat department. She looked safe and healthy, but she appeared to be alone, at least as far as far as far as. as he could tell. The footage, which spans about five minutes in total, shows Sneha trying on

coats. For about 20 minutes she is off camera in the shoe department. Then at about 509 p.m., there is a woman matching Sneyha's description walking out of the store with a bag in hand. Beside her, there is a shorter woman with black hair. To this day, it's never been confirmed if the woman in the footage leaving is Sneha. And if it is, who is the woman beside her? With no new leads and the WABC story failing to yield a witness, Ron became even more desperate. All over the city, missing persons flyers were disappearing day by day as more and more loved ones were confirmed to have been lost or found in the collapse of the towers. Believing that the detectives were a dead end, Ron hired a private investigator named Ken Gallant.

Because of his background as an FBI Special Operations agent, Gallant seemed like the perfect fit to finally get Sneha and her family answers. Unfortunately, many of the answers he got weren't the ones her family wanted to hear. He interviewed family, co-workers, and even ferry workers along the Hudson River. He hoped that one of them had seen Sneha escaping the destruction, or even if they had seen her being carried away on the 10th. Deep dives of all her electronics yielded nothing new. No secret online relationships, no plans for romantic rendezvous. Making matters even more confusing was the fact that, although she never came home on the 10th,

she had abandoned all of her essentials, as if she had been planning to come home. Her passport was on her desk, along with her driver's license, her credit cards, and perhaps the most damning, her glasses. According to Ron, Snehah had just run out of contacts

and had been forced to use her worn-out ones for a few days. One of the last times he saw her, her eyes were so irritated by the contacts that she ripped them out before they even reached home during a night out. If she was planning on leaving for an extended time, there's no way that she wouldn't have grabbed her glasses, at the very least. But what if she had been home on the 11th? After weeks of investigation, law enforcement discovered security cameras in the apartment lobby that may have caught vital footage. At 8.45 a.m., a woman resembling Sneha walks into the lobby. Now, the footage was completely washed out by the sunlight, offering only a blurry, over-exposed silhouette of a woman.

But regardless, she matched Snehaw's height, build, hairstyle, and clothing. The woman crossed to the elevator, waited for a moment, and then she turned and left the building. If the security camera's time is correct, The first plane hit the North Tower just three minutes later, two minutes after the mystery woman walked out of the building into the bright sunshine. Now the footage has never been publicly released, but when viewing it, Ron believed that he recognized his wife's mannerisms, but he was unable to confirm if it was her with any certainty because the footage was so washed out. The footage opened the possibility that the police had suspected all along. Sneha had vanished on September 11th, not the night before.

Armed with this new lead, Ron began to put together a new scenario for what could have happened to his wife. The first of these is that someone had taken Sneyha's life, but Ron couldn't believe that theory. He knew that in Manhattan, people didn't disappear in homicides. A body was bound to turn up, the killer's almost sure to leave clues. So, another theory, one as tragic as it was disheartening, took root. Sneya had been only four blocks away from the World Trade Center when the attacks began. As a trained doctor and compassionate person, unaware of how much more tragedy was on the horizon, Sneyha may have raced towards the tower to offer aid.

John's story, the one he had given to WABC News, may have been more correct than anyone had known. Ron began to formulate a theory, although a heartbreaking one, but one to him that made sense. While running errands on the 10th, she met a friend, went shopping and later had drinks. Expecting her husband to come home late that night and not wanting to be alone, she spent the evening with her friend. The next morning, she returned at around 8.40, only to hear the first plane strike the North Tower.

With her passion for saving lives drawing her towards the catastrophe, she rushed from the apartment building to help. When the towers collapsed, Sneha was trapped in the wreckage, perishing alongside thousands of others. Now this theory depended on the fact that the woman in the lobby was in fact Sneyha. But there was one detail that raised doubt in Don's mind. The woman hadn't been carrying any shopping bags. So if it was Snaja and she had bought so many things, including new sheets for their apartment,

where had they gone? Regardless, after weeks of investigating and having their spirit broken over and over again, Ron and the Philip family accepted the heartbreaking conclusion. Their daughter, sister, and wife had died, offering life-saving care to the victims, and that her remains were now lost under 1.8 million tons of debris. The family had never wanted this result, but it made sense for the woman they knew. Accepting this ending to her life gave them the closure they desperately needed, and with the belief she had perished in the towers,

they joined the community of grief that encompassed thousands of families. Ron ended up moving in with the Philip family so they could mourn together, away from the disaster that had taken the light of their lives from them. In 2002, they gathered at the Church of the Resurrection in Duchess County to bury an urn filled with ashes from ground zero. Sneha's name was read aloud at the 9-11 memorials, and a plaque was placed at the Duchess Community. college where her mother worked. The family was able to lean on their new community, finding

comfort in the arms of thousands of other grieving families. But soon enough, that warmth, acceptance, and love was snatched away from them. Behind the scenes, new information was unraveling, and the story that the Philip family had come to accept about their daughter was threatened. In January of 2004, the medical examiner's office removed Sneyha's name from the official list of victims, citing a lack of evidence that she had been alive on September 11th. That alone was devastating for the family. But the NYPD's report, which was used to determine that ruling, proved to be even more devastating. It's a report that led to headlines. Headlines like 9-11 Trist Twist in the New York Post. Headlines that made

the Phillips relive their grief and agony all over again. Officially, Snehah's name was removed from the official list of victims due to reported lack of evidence. However, it's hard to deny that there isn't some inherent bias against Snaja due to what magazines, police, and attorneys referred to as a risky lifestyle. It was this lifestyle, these private personal moments that were put on display for all to see and resulted in Snaja's family, friends, and co-workers suffering. The papers reported that she frequented lesbian bars, where she would end the night going home with strangers.

To her family, these rumors were devastating, and they vehemently denied them. However, Ron, to his part, did not deny that his wife often visited lesbian and gay bars, nor that she went home with other women. He stated there was nothing sexual about the interactions, though. According to him, Sneha enjoyed listening to live music and having a drink at times,

preferring to do so at bars where she felt safe and secure. At a lesbian bar, there was a much lower chance of strange men accosting her. Especially after the incident where she had been groped, Ron stated that Snehah simply wanted to enjoy herself in a space where she didn't feel threatened. Friends, however, have publicly disclosed that Snehad did form romantic and sexual relationships with both men and women. Remember, this was in 2001, and the world was wildly different than it is today. Anything except for heterosexuality was frowned upon in the media,

and LGBTQ plus individuals could legally be fired due to their sexuality in many states. It wasn't a terribly kind world if you weren't straight, and if Sneha wasn't, that surely added to the stress she was feeling. But that wasn't the only stress in Sneha's life that was brought to the public's attention. When Detective Stark with the NYPD initially interviewed her brother John, He disclosed that he and Sneha weren't talking in the days leading up to 9-11. And the reason? According to John, he had caught Sneha and his girlfriend having sex.

When later asked about it, John recanted his statement, claiming that he said no such thing and that he never even met with detectives. However, Detective Stark had documents confirming that they had indeed met up and that John told him that exact scenario. So why John or the detective would make this up isn't clear, but it leaves us with this question. What actually happened? The Phillips did not remember Sneha as the woman the police described in their report. They admitted that she had faced hard times in recent months, but the claims the detectives

were making were exaggerated to the extreme. Drinking was only Sneha's form of self-medicating during a painful period in her life, not a full-on addiction. her suspension from work had been temporary and she was still very much committed to being a first-rate doctor. She had never cheated on her husband and had merely sought out like-minded friends. To them, she was still the same vibrant, kind, and honest woman who had walked down the aisle in 2000. Questions, though, lingered. Were the police simply trying to excuse their own failures, or was the family trying to protect Sneha's reputation,

attempting to paint her as a hero rather than a woman living a double life? One point made by Ron himself remains true, however, even if everything the police said was true, nothing had explained his wife's disappearance. A troubled marriage, drinking, nor late nights accounted for why she never came back home. Even the detectives who wrote the report admitted later on that Sneha had most likely perished in the World Trade Center. For her family, that conclusion was the only thing that mattered. In the end, they simply wanted her recognize. as a victim of 9-11.

But with no official certificate listing her date of death as September 11th, 2001, the family was not allowed to collect from the victim's compensation fund, a federally funded program for the families of victims of 9-11. But losing out on this money

hurt far less than the state's symbolic denial of Snehasa's legacy. Her husband Ron hoped to use those funds for good charitable work. And without them, he could not give back to his community that had given his family so much, but the law had already given their verdict.

To them, with no proof she had been a victim of 9-11, they believe that she very well may have been a victim of homicide, suicide, or even a runaway. So with that, her name was removed from the list of 9-11 victims, which was a severe blow to her family. Her mother was inconsolable, crying often and at the most unexpected moments. But despite the odds that felt helpless,

the family continued to file appeals. And finally, on February 1, 2008, they succeeded. The New York Law Journal announced that the decision had been overturned. Given her proximity to the towers and the evidence of her last known movements, the court concluded that there was more than enough reason to believe that she died at the World's time.

Trade Center. Snehah's name was restored to the list of victims, but as an added honor, it was carved into the memorial built on Ground Zero. On panel S66 of the South Memorial Pool, Dr. Snaja Ann Phillips' name was etched into the stone, a reminder of her life and legacy. Today, Snaja would be almost 60 years old, but to her family, she remains the vibrant 31-year-old they knew and loved. Her bedroom at her parents' house in Poughkeepsie remains exactly how it was the day she vanished, decorated with photos, diplomas, and memories.

But there are some people out there, like Sneha's supervisor at the hospital, that believe she is out there somewhere, living the life she dreamt of. What do you think happened to her? That's my opinion. It's always been my opinion since I heard about 9-11 and I'd seen some documentary on television.

And I thought, oh, she finally got what she wanted. She got away. I feel like she was unhappy in her marriage. That was my opinion based on her actions. And I felt like she's the type of person that was so, so incredibly smart that if she wanted something to happen, she could make it happen. You think she had the intelligence to just pull something like that off on the spot.

100%. And then some. How many people have you met in your life that you would say had that kind of ability? Because you're smart, you're a doctor, you work with more people. I would say maybe three. And she was one of the three. Right. Like a genius mind, you know?

A genius mind that left the legacy, no matter where, or even if, she took her final breaths. In the wake of her disappearance, Ron remained close with the Philip family. With their blessing, he remarried. Still practicing medicine, he and his new wife welcomed a daughter into the world, building a family of their own, and looking forward to a bright future. All around New York, reminders of Sneha Linger, the sushi spot where she and Ron shared lunches, the hospitals where she provided exceptional care to the people of New York City, and finally, the 9-11 memorial pools, where her name is etched forever into stone, a name that carried with it, a whole life, a whole story, and above all, overwhelming love. But Sneha Phillips' disappearance

was not the only mystery tied to September 11th. On that same morning as Ron Lieberman wondered where his wife had gone. Another man was busy at work, fighting for the future of his family. Henrik Siviac, a Polish immigrant,

came to New York City seeking opportunity and hope, but he only found tragedy. This man known as the last man killed on 9-11 did not die from fire, smoke, or falling debris. He died from a bullet to the lung. And much like Sneha, his story began far, far away from the skyscrapers of the Big Apple. Are you ready to have your mind blown? I want you now to imagine that in front of you was a locked door, symbolizing all that you know, everything you've been taught in your time on earth.

The lies your government has fed you. With my podcast, the conspiracy files, I now give you the door's key. And once you've listened to the show, you finally unlock this door and step inside. Beyond the door is another dimension, a dimension of false narratives, a dimension of hidden evidence, a dimension of truth lies and murders. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance of deadly secrets and explosive ideas. You've just crossed over into the conspiracy zone. I'm your host, Colin Brown. Join me now on this journey into the world of secret pedophile rings, government cover-ups, suspicious suicides on my new show The Conspiracy Files, available now on all streaming platforms. He was born in Krakow, the Polish People's Republic in 1955, a country with a turbulent history,

still reeling from World War II. Henrik knew from a young age that he had to work hard to make something of himself, but he still found time for the finer things in life, like love. At just five years old, he met his future wife, Iwa, when she was visiting. visiting his neighbors, who were her relatives. Throughout their childhoods, they spent summers together, running through the cobblestone city streets, relaxing along the river, and sharing stories and secrets with open hearts and bright smiles. It was a love at first sight situation, a love that would follow him and drive him towards success for his entire life, right up until the end. His family was forever his fire and his reason for being. As soon as he could, he'd joined the

army to build a life for himself and Iwa. After two years of serving, he took a job on the railroad, using his analytic, mechanical mind to climb the career ladder. Soon, with money in the bank in a place to call their own, he and his wife welcomed two children into the world, a daughter, Gabriella, and a son, Adam. Raising his children was Henrik's greatest pleasure, and he dreamt of one day building a house entirely with his own hands, a house that his family could always come back to and be proud of. But that, of course, would take money.

Unfortunately, as the 1990s ticked on, Poland's economy began to collapse. Henrik's job, like thousands of others, was snatched away from him. By 2000, Gabriella was 17 on the cusp of going to college. But, with no money for tuition, her options for furthering her education were limited. Wanting the best for his family, Henrik made a brave choice. He would leave the country and earn enough money to not only send his daughter to college, but to build the home, he had always dreamt of giving his family. He ended up settling on New York,

where his sister Lucina had moved in search of a better life years earlier. Despite having little money to his name and knowing very little English, he dove into the opportunity head first, moving into an apartment and far Rockaway near his sister. Immediately, he looked in Polish-printed newspapers to find work in construction, landscaping, or really anywhere that would hire him. Within a year, he was earning about $1,000 a month

and sending the majority of that money back home to his family. But as for life in New York, it became a cycle of constant work and little rest. Some evenings, he would sit by the water to watch the sunset, but mostly Henrik kept to himself, focused more on providing a life to his loved ones than making friends. During his day to day, he often woke up, went to work, came home, talked to his family, and then went to bed.

All of his waking hours were spent caring for his wife and children, even from thousands of miles away. The thing that mattered most to him was earning the money he needed to return to where he belonged. Home. On September 11th, his day began like all the others. He walked to work, this time at a construction site in downtown Manhattan. He planned to labor from dawn until dusk, never imagining that before the day had ended, he would be yet another victim tied to this dark date in the most unexpected way possible. It was around 8.45 a.m. that Henrik suddenly heard a loud crash. Now, if you've been to New York

City, you know that it's already loud and filled with a constant stimulus, but this sound was different. The strangeness and suddenness of the noise sent a shiver down every single. one's spine. It was the sound of breaking glass, crunching metal, and thousands upon thousands of screams. Henrik stood from his task, joined by the day's co-workers, wondering what he could have heard. Suddenly, the whales of fire trucks, police sirens, and ambulances joined the growing soundscape of shouts and cries. Looking around New York's dominating skyline, it was a punch in the gut to see what had caused the panic din ever growing around him. Smoke was pouring from the walls and windows of the World Trade Center's North Tower,

and pieces of an airplane were jutting from a gaping, shattered a hole of twisted iron bars, and broken masonry in its side. Standing transfixed by the horror, he wondered how such a terrible accident could have happened. In the face of such a disaster, work on the construction site came to a grinding halt. As Henrik watched,

some citizens ran towards the burning tower, like moths were drawn to. a flame, seeking to aid the trapped workers and injured victims within. Still, Moore fled the scene, wanting nothing as much than to be away from the fire and death. News vans rushed to the site. Their cameras pointed towards the sky as the world tuned in to watch the horror unfold. Almost 20 minutes had passed since the plane struck the North Tower and Henrik stood watching, powerless to help or stop the catastrophe. But without warning, he and the rest of the world learned

that the madness had only just begun. Another jet, streaking in out of the blue, smashed into the side of the South Tower, news vans and home cameras capturing every nightmarish moment. A great burst of flame rushed out from the devastation, and the sound of crunching, shredding metal, was deafening. New waves of shrieking New Yorkers erupted from the gathered crowds as people began to realize that this was far from an accident.

America was under attack. Henrik fled. Turning toward one of the bridges connecting Manhattan in Brooklyn, he raced back to his apartment on Beach Street in Rockaway Queens. The headlong rush back to his home took two hours against the raging tide of bodies escaping Lower Manhattan. Among the screaming people in sirens, Henrik heard something calamitous from behind him

in the direction of the towers. It was the loudest crash he had ever heard, akin to the noise of the planet crumbling in on itself. Nearly a ton of steel and concrete had just collapsed. He turned to see the empty space where the South Tower once stood, and soon after the North Tower would follow. He had heard the noise of thousands of lives all at once being extinguished. Turning his back towards his apartment, he ran all the harder. It had been three in the afternoon when EWallel, and her children found that the Twin Towers were under attack, the three watching their usual programs

when the heart-shattering news broke across the world. Instantly, they thought of their husband and father, who had gone to that very city to better their lives, and left with nothing but the horrible images of death and destruction. There was nothing they could do, but wait. They couldn't reach him. They had no idea if he was safe. From across the world, they sat, paced and waited, watching the phone, sick to their stomachs. But at last, the call came. Iwa, standing by the phone, picked it up at once. When she heard his voice, relief washed over her.

Henrik told them that he was safe, but he described the scene as he had witnessed it. He spoke about the second plane, the crash when the towers fell. Those shaken, the father and husband remained the stoic man he always was. Henrik asked his wife to explain what was going on as he had no working television. She filled him in and the gravity of the terror attacks finally struck. Henrik assured his family he would stay home that night knowing that the city had never been more dangerous. As soon as he hung up, however, reality weighed heavily on him. The construction site had been his only income for the day and he couldn't afford the loss.

He had to do something. Determined to continue supporting his family. Henrik scanned the Polish newspaper Super Express looking for jobs. And one ad caught his eye. It read, Men to Clean Stores in Brooklyn and Queens, no English required. It seemed like the perfect fit.

Through a Polish temp agency, he arranged the job. Later that day, his new position was confirmed, but there was a catch. He would have to start that night. In spite of the turmoil the city was in, He took the job anyway, knowing it was what he had to do for his family. When he called home to share the news, Iwa, the love of his life, begged him not to go.

There was too much going on in New York. But Henrik dismissed her fears. He was determined to provide for them, and he told her that he would be careful. Sharing their last goodbyes, he hung up the phone, prepared to go out into the night and work for the life he dreamt of. Dressed in his favorite Salvation Army camouflage jacket and pants,

Henrik gathered a bag with spare clothes, a subway map, and the address to which he was traveling. Before leaving, he asked his landlady Anna for directions. Always glad to help, Anna pointed him to Albany Avenue, but she made a crucial mistake. She pointed to six Albany, the start of Albany Avenue, far from the block that Henrik had actually wanted. Anna had accidentally directed Henrik four miles away,

from where he needed to be. Telling him to get off at Utica, she smiled and waved him on his way. Henrik, unbeknownst to him or his family, was about to be sent into one of the most dangerous areas of New York City at the time, Bedstai. Around 11 p.m., Henrik stepped off the subway in Bedford, a neighborhood notorious at the time for crime.

Known then as Bedstey do or die, gunshots were not an irregular part of life in that neighborhood, and the drug problem in the area was well known. It was already a volatile place on a normal night, but on the night of 9-11, it was akin to throwing a match on a puddle of gasoline. Cheroni Perry, a resident and witness of the crime that was about to unfold, stated that things were a bit tense that night. Late into the evening, 25 to 30 people were outside, discussing the events of the day. Perry remembered. seeing a man walking down the street that night at around 11.40 p.m., carrying a small piece of paper

in his hands, as if he was looking for an address. That man was Henrik, and he was approaching Albany Avenue, likely finally realizing just how far away he was from his destination. Perry remembers noticing that she wasn't the only one watching him. Henrik was a white man with olive skin and dark hair, walking through bedstay at night. night, not even a full 24 hours after the worst terrorist attack on U.S. soil. He was also wearing army fatigues and carrying a bag. At minimum, he stood out, and at worse, he was seen as a threat. Henrik approached a phone booth at the corner of Albany and Fulton,

and upon doubling back, walking down Abney towards Decatur, Perry noticed that some men were following behind him. They had been following him from south of Atlantic Avenue, through a desolate, largely abandoned part of town. Perry saw the outlines of three men stalking him, and she couldn't take it anymore. She turned away. She wasn't watching when the arguing began, and the gunshots rang out, but she heard them. There were seven, the police would later learn. Soon after the shots, another resident of Bedstuy heard her front doorbell ring, yet she, too, refused to get involved. She later told detectives, I heard the bell ringing,

but I wasn't answering it after I heard those shots. Had she had answered the door, she would have seen what Cheroni Perry saw outside her own window. People scattered in all directions, everyone except for Henrik. A trail of blood crossed the street

where he had desperately dashed to the door for help. After he rang the bell, he collapsed on the steps, landing on his face in a pool of his own blood. He was still clutching the directions to his job in his head. hand when he took his final breath. In his mind, they had been a ticket to a better life. Instead, coming to America, he found himself as the last victim on one of the most tragic days

in the city's history. When police arrived at the murder scene, only three officers from the evidence collection team could respond. Now, the evidence collection team, while a crucial part of the NYPD, does not deal with homicides. Under normal circumstances, they have, are dispatched to burglaries, misdemeanors, and other crimes that don't involve fatalities. But clearly, due to that day's tragedy, every available homicide detective was at ground zero, where they would remain for days and weeks to come. So all the responding team could do was tape off the area and ask questions. The case had already begun at a disadvantage, and witnesses would do little to help.

The most that was said was that they had seen nothing at a time. all, while other people admitted that they assumed Henrik, with his dark complexion and army fatigues, was a terrorist. To them, he had looked suspicious. Fear and paranoia reigned, where facts were few, and in the wake of 9-11, facts were hard to come by. Investigators recovered 740 caliber casings, confirming the shots that neighbors had heard, though only one had hit Henrik. Sadly, it had been fatal. Robbery was quickly ruled. out as his wallet and bag were untouched. Either burglary hadn't been the motive or the killer had been scared away before taking anything. With the city overwhelmed, however, his death was quickly

overshadowed. For weeks, months, almost all police resources were focused on lower Manhattan or simply on trying to hold the city together. Even after days of doing their best, the police came away from the crime scene with no useful leads. The loss was devastating to Henrik's family. His mother, unable to understand what had happened to her son, believed that he had been a victim of the Twin Towers collapse. His wife mourned her partner of multiple decades, the man she had begged to stay home that night. As she contemplated a future without him, she realized she would have to raise their children alone. Adam, the youngest of the family at 10 years old, seemed to take it the hardest. He would become convinced that his father's death was somehow his fault, that he had been bad,

and that God was punishing him for it. Henrik's sister was the only one who brought the family any comfort. Soon after his death, she brought Henrik's ashes back to Krakow for a funeral. And she did more than just this. She fought hard to press the police into action, hoping they would do more to find her brother's killer. But first, police would have to figure out what sort of motive had driven the killing in the first place. Usina, among others, believed that Henrik could have been,

mistaken for a threat by off-duty police officers. Officers who were ready to jump at shadows when they saw a suspicious man. His limited English would have prevented him from communicating when confronted. And if he had been commanded to put his hands up, he wouldn't have understood. But the weapon used in the murder wasn't a standard issue for a service weapon, meaning, if it had been a cop, it wasn't a cop's gun. Lieutenant Tom Joyce, Commanding officer of the NYPD 79th Detective Squad reject the idea as a possibility. The caliber of the gun was unique, according to him. Not something an officer would have carried.

A year passed, and still no one knew who had shot Henrik. No one had a lead, and no new evidence had turned up. What's more, Henrik's case went without notice. His name, unread at any memorial ceremony and never etched into the stone of the memorial pools, went forgotten. NYPD and crime stoppers would later offer a $12,000 reward for information on Henrik's death, but the prize went unclaimed. His name appeared in a few newspaper stories, but those who remember him best are his family. As time continued to pass, Iwa Suwaiq was forced to accept that her husband's killer would go uncaptured. Lieutenant Joyce remains hopeful

that someone will come forward, though, knowing that at least one person must have witnessed the incident. He continues to believe a culprit will be identified, but until then, the family remembers Henrik, the fearless husband and father, who would do anything to provide for his family. And now, Luciana does everything she can to give back to him. As the sole representative of her family in the U.S., she does everything she can to gather information for them. But, most importantly, she carries on his legacy. Each year, on the anniversary of his death, she travels to a memorial service at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Among the many mourners in the crowd, she sometimes does not make it into the building. Just as Henrik was, she's nudged aside by the city's greater loss.

The city's loss stretched further than most people realized. It wasn't just police and the neighboring boroughs that were pulled away from their communities to help wade through the tragedy of 9-11 in Manhattan. It was the police and neighboring counties and states. 200 miles north of New York City, in the small county of Tioga, one man took advantage of the local police having their attention focused elsewhere. And finally, after months of rage and threats, he may have seen an opportunity to make a young, vibrant mother disappear. Despite the tragedy that unfolded on the morning of September 11th,

35-year-old Michelle Ann Harris was hopeful. She was about to start a new chapter, a chapter she had been waiting to turn the page to for years. Her marriage was ending, but in her case, that was a blessing of untold proportions. If you had told her that in the 1980s, she never would have believed you. Because when she met her husband, Calvin Cal Harris, it was as if all the fairy tales she had been told as a child had finally come true. Cow, a native of Binghamton, New York, seemed to have it all.

Even in college in the 1980s, he was wealthy, successful, and so charming that he drew people to him like moths to a flame. His parents ran a wildly profitable chain of car dealerships, and he knew that when he graduated, the torch would be passed to him. In his eyes, his life was set. He just needed someone to share it with. That person was Michelle Taylor, a hardworking woman from Spencer, New York.

After getting an associate's degree in business, she took a job near her hometown, working as a secretary at one of the hands. Harris family's many dealerships. There, she met Cal, who despite working as her superior, began to woo her with grand gestures, extravagant gifts, and dreamy nights out. Coming from a working-class family, Michelle had never experienced this kind of romance, the kind she had seen played out in movies as a kid, and in the rom-com she rented on Saturday nights. Cal seemed too good to be true, and that was likely by design. Abusers often use a tactic called love bombing

in order to quickly gain control of their romantic partners, and this includes everything that Cal did, lavish dates, kind words, luxurious gifts, and over-the-top gestures. It's a very strategic way of locking people into a relationship before they show their true nature. Then, by the time they do show it, You're already so disoriented, longing for the person they once were, that it's hard for you to step away. Looking from the outside, this case seems to be a textbook example of that. By 1990, shortly after they struck up their romance, Michelle agreed to marry Cal. Quickly, he got to work building their dream life together, at least a facade of their dream life. He purchased a 252-acre estate in northern Tioca County, New York,

and there, the couple had an extravagant house built to their specifications. When it was done, they had a stunning home, a private lake, horse barns, and miles and miles and miles of beautiful meadow. With a home straight out of a catalog, the two began their life in earnest. Michelle gave birth to and cared for three precious babies. Taylor, Kayla, and Jenna, while Cal continued to bring home big paychecks. It looked like their life was perfection, but as the years ticked on, their marriage began. began to splinter and the ugly cracks that had formed long ago began to show to the public. In 1999, Michelle was pregnant with the couple's fourth child.

And though she was excited to welcome their baby into the world, there's nothing she wanted more than for her life to be completely different. On the inside, she was falling apart. Cowell, the romantic sweet man she had married, had changed. Or maybe he had just finally allowed her to see who he really was. Everything in the home had to be perfect at all times. If the dishes weren't clean to his standards, Michelle would be berated for hours with screaming and threats. And when he wasn't at home screaming at her, he was with other women. While still pregnant with his child, Michelle learned

that Cal was having an affair. He had met his mistress in the same way he had met Michelle. She was an employee at one of his family's car lots. Upon being confronted about the affair, Cal used the feeble excuse that Michelle hadn't been keeping the house clean enough, and that the stress of it all caused him to seek out other women. So feeling trapped and attacked by his ridiculous excuse, Michelle pushed him to end the affair, and of course, he agreed. But a few weeks later, Michelle learned that the two had gone on a romantic vacation to Barbados together. And that's when she knew she was done. Slowly, she began planning her escape, one that had been ten years in the making. After their final child, a son named Tanner was born

in October of 2000, Michelle stopped sharing a bed with Cal and made it clear that their romantic relationship was over. But Michelle still wanted that fairy tale romance she had always dreamed of. With her and Cal's relationship over, she found someone who ignited hope in her once more. His name was Brian Early, a younger man from nearby Pennsylvania, whom she had met while he was conducting a surveying job in Tioga County. Immediately, the two hit it off. Desperate to escape the tension in her home, she often snuck off for romantic rendezvouses in the nearby Poconos with Brian. There, they'd huddle up in a cabin and forget about the stress in their lives. Because when Michelle was home, it was clear that the divorce she so desperately wanted

was going to be a challenge. Cal was desperate to keep Michelle under his thumb. He didn't want the shame of having a failed marriage, preferring to keep up appearances for the sake of his pride. But just as important, he didn't want Michelle to take any of his family fortune in the divorce. As the sole caretaker of four children, however, there was no way Michelle was leaving without some financial support. Immediately, she got herself a job waitressing at Lefties, a restaurant in Waverly, anticipating her transition back into the workforce once the couple divorced. When she wasn't at work, she tried to talk to Cal about having an amicable split, but he made it very clear that that wasn't on the table.

The family's nanny, barbed there, witnessed numerous screaming matches in which the pair would fight for hours, still wanting to control his wife. Cal threatened to file charges of child abandonment if she moved out of the home. So, the screaming within the walls of the home they had built together, only got worse and worse as 2001 trudged on. But by September 9th, Michelle felt a wave of relief. She was getting her life back.

Finally, Cal had agreed to a divorce, and Michelle would accept a large financial settlement from him, as well as custody of their children. All of that would happen on September 12th. But while she dreamt of a life away from Cal, Brian dreamt of a proposal. However, Michelle wasn't ready to hop into another marriage, but she was happy for the first time in a while. After years of being yelled at and called names, she finally felt wanted.

She felt like her magnetic, outgoing, and intelligent self again, and that in itself was enough to put her in a good mood. But with the dark cloud of Cal leaving her life and a large settlement on the way, on September 10th, Michelle was walking on a day. She told anyone who would listen about her plans to visit New York City, where one of her college friends lived. While there, she planned upon all of the jewelry Cal had given her in order to help pay for the house she and Brian were pursuing. With that home, she would finally be out from beneath Cal's oppressive thumb. The house was smaller and quaint, but it was safe, and that's all she could ask for. Despite the weight of terror attacks, Michelle Harris felt that her life was about to begin anew. It was a cool, refreshing breeze that welcomed Michelle into the night as she ended her shift at Lefty's

restaurant on that September evening. Even though the world was in chaos, Michelle was feeling better than she had in years. Climbing into her gold 2004-windstar van, she prepared to head home. Even though Cal would be just as difficult to deal with tonight as he ever was, she could see the end on the horizon. A new day was coming. Tomorrow, it would be all over. The next morning, on September 12th, Barb Thayer woke up to an unexpected phone call. Now Barb had been the Harris family nanny for quite some time, but she was more than that. She was a close friend of Michelle herself. Barb was accustomed to taking calls early in the morning, though the true surprise came when she read the caller ID. It wasn't Michelle who was calling her at 7 o'clock in the morning. It was

Cal. Worried, she picked up the phone at once. After a brief exchange, Cal asked her if she could come over and help get the kids ready for school. But this was strange. Now normally, Michelle would help him with it, but Cal said that she hadn't come home last night. Barb was immediately taken aback. Michelle was not the type of person to stay out all night, and Barb had no idea where she could have gone. But she told Cal that she would be right there. She was more worried about Michelle than getting the kids sent off to school, so she got dressed in a hurry and drove to the estate. The entire way, her worry for her friend nodded her, and when she arrived at the property, it only got worse. Michelle's Ford Windstar

sat at the end of the lengthy driveway. In a days of shock, Bob parked and got out of her car to take a look. The doors were unlocked. The key's still in the ignition. Throughout the car, there's organized chaos. Magazines, rappers, and bags full of jewelry that Michelle had been planning to pawn in the city. Her heart hammering, Barb got back in the car and began to make her way up the long, winding driveway. She hoped that Michelle had arrived in the time between Cal's call and her arrival.

But when she entered the home, it was clear that that wasn't the case. She shouted for Michelle, but Cal answered instead. He was already showered and dressed for work. He looked far too relaxed for someone whose wife hadn't come home, for someone whose wife's car was parked at the end of the driveway. When Barb told him that the car was there, instead of being worried, he replied, well, we'd better go get it.

The pair returned to the end of the driveway. There, Barb told Cal her obvious concern, that Michelle is lying somewhere nearby, injured or worse. But he tried to calm her fears by telling her the Michelle had simply gone to New York City early that day. But that clearly made no sense. Barb asked him how she could have gotten there without her car.

But Cal shrugged his shoulders. He suggested that maybe his soon-to-be ex-wife hitchhiked. But again, Barb wouldn't buy it. And Cal wasn't finished just yet. As Barb stood before him, terrified, Cal shook his head as he looked at the interior of the car, visibly disgusted. He remarked coldly that he needed to get the car cleaned, and soon after he left for work, leaving Barb dumbfounded.

Cal soon left for work, but Barb was still concerned. She didn't believe that Michelle would go on such short notice, especially without her car in the middle of the night. When the home phone rang at 8.05 a.m., Barb's fears were bolstered by someone else. Nikki Birdick, one of Michelle's closest friends, was surprised to hear Barb on the other end of the line. She called most every day to chat with Michelle before their busy days began. When Michelle wasn't the one to answer that morning, her heart sank. When Barb told Nikki the situation she had walked into that morning, her blood ran cold.

She, too, knew that Michelle wasn't the type to leave under such strange circumstances, especially without telling anyone. Nikki called Michelle's phone at once and left a voicemail. Meanwhile, Barb began her own calls to Michelle's friends and associates. Quickly, she learned that not only did no one know where Michelle was, but she realized that she had an appointment with her divorce lawyer later on that same day. After learning that she hadn't been seen since she left work the night before, she had heard enough.

It was time to report Michelle Harris as a missing person. Michelle's divorce attorney contacted the New York State Police senior investigator Sue Mulvey, and soon enough a search was underway. But as in all the previous cases we mentioned, there was a very limited response on September 11, 2001. The New York State Police had just sent between 500 and 600 state troopers to New York City the previous day. So getting any kind of investigation off the ground was going to, to be slow work at best. In fact, the disappearance may have been overlooked entirely if it hadn't

been for the call from Michelle's divorce attorney. If someone had heard about the massive police response being sent to the Twin Towers and that person wanted to make Michelle disappear, now would have been the perfect time to act. Now, fortunately, what few officers could respond to her disappearance, they knew exactly who to speak to. Less than an hour. hour after the call, investigators Mike Myers and Mike Young arrived at Cal Harris' Ford dealership to begin their questioning. During the questioning, Cal remained calm and unemotional, denying any involvement in Michelle's disappearance. He didn't seem to be hiding anything, nor to try hinder the police. He even brought the investigators back to the Harris estate to allow them to perform

a search, cooperating every step of the way. He even stepped away from the estate, telling investigators that they were free to look around without him being present. But during their initial sweep, they didn't spot anything unusual. However, others would soon find evidence that would leave them confident that Cal was much more guilty than he was acting. In the meantime, he pointed detectives in a different direction. He urged them to look more closely at Michelle herself. She was living a single life with her own money, freedom, and more importantly, new men. After continuing, Continuing to search for leads, police learned of Michelle's new love interests, and their sights were set on them.

Brian Early was at the top of that list. Not only was he Michelle's most prominent lover, but Michelle had been with him on the night she disappeared. After leaving work, she visited Brian's apartment. But when brought in for an interview, Brian stated that she had come to visit but left around 11 p.m. With this admission, though he denied guilt, he was now the last person to see her alive. On top of that, it was discovered that Michelle had a brief romance with her boss, Michael Casper.

So was this a potential motive for Brian to harm her? Had Brian learned of their brief romance and taken his rage out on the woman he loved? Or had Michelle left the apartment unharmed, just like he stated. But clearly, Brian wasn't the only suspect here. In fact, there would end up being four more that police would look into, because it wasn't just Brian that Michelle had seen that night. Just before Michelle left work on the 11th, she shared a drink with Michael Casper in the parking lot,

but they weren't alone. One more employee joined them. Coincidentally, he had a record, and it was a telling one. His name was Michael Hakes, and over a decade prior, he had committed a brutal rape in Arizona. In just a few hours, detectives went from having their standard lead and estranged husband to having four very promising ones. Two boyfriends, a convicted rapist, and an abusive spouse.

They had a lot of ground to cover, and they knew where they needed to start, at the Harris residence. There, Steve Anderson, a forensic specialist, took a closer look at the home that had seemed completely normal to the initial detectives. And the second that he looked in the garage, it became clear that something very, very bad had happened. Dark red stains were splashed across the wall and floor. To his trained eye, it was obvious that it was blood spatter. So with this suspicion, a search warrant was obtained for the property,

and the Harris residence was rapidly transformed into a crime scene. minute by minute the crime scene seemed to expand. There were red stains in the foyer, the kitchen, and on an area rug in a living room. Some of them even looked like someone had tried to clean it. So obviously, all eyes were on Cal Harris, but he was nowhere near the house. Instead, he was at a dinner with Michelle's family in Cooperstown.

Everyone there showed the deepest concern, except of course Cal. While at dinner, Michelle's sister-in-law, Shannon Taylor, brought something that many at the time had believed was only a joke. In March of that year, Cal had stated in a joking manner that he had the perfect place to put Michelle's body, somewhere she would never be found. Cal denied ever having made the remark, but eventually he admitted that he had indeed said it, but it was all in jest, it was a joke.

But Shannon and the rest of Michelle's family felt that this was a moment. tantamount to a confession. In time, they hoped the police would be getting a real one. Because when Cal arrived back home, investigators began to lay on their own pressure. They asked him about the bloodstains, and while Cal initially could not explain them, he later said they were from an incident where Michelle had caught herself in the garage. Police found nothing else on the property to make them believe Cal was the culprit in Michelle's disappearance, and without the full strength of their police force, they couldn't competition. sentently searched the property. So they waited.

Days soon turned to weeks, and no new evidence was brought forward. Once the New York State police were able to turn their attention away from the Twin Towers, the massive search was conducted, but nothing ever came from it. It was a disheartening fact not only for Michelle's family, but for the police as well. Meanwhile, Cal Harris was acting as if he was glad to get rid of his wife. Days after she vanished, he had urgently shuttled all of Michelle's belongings out of the house into a garage sale. It had only been one week, but Cal seemed confident that his wife would never be coming home. Just three weeks later, he even revealed a new relationship, and he continued on living in his home, as if he had never even had a life there with Michelle.

While he moved on, his children were also forced to. weeks turned into months and months turned into years. With each passing second, her four children missed her terribly. Her family waited by the phone, hoping for good news or even at this point, just news of a body. But sadly, with no body and no murder weapon, the case went cold. Yet Michelle's family continued to push for answers. They urged police to make a conviction or to get that final piece of information, that would lead them to trial.

After four years, in mid-2005, they found that little bit of info in Jerome Wilchinski, Michelle's hairdresser. When questioned, he revealed that two months before Michelle had vanished, he overheard a conversation between Cal and Michelle on her phone. Jerome overheard Cal scare Michelle

with a haunting threat. He was going to kill her and make her body disappear forever. Finally, that threat offered police an opportunity to secure a conviction. They were issued a warrant by a judge, and on September 30th, 2005, Cal Harris was arrested at his Ford dealership in front of his employees. His wrists and ankles were chained, and with the snap of the metal began a trial that

would span over a decade. It began on May 21, 2007. Naturally, Cal's defense was that there was no actual evidence that he was involved in Michelle's disappearance. Indeed, it would be a hard, case to fight, but prosecutor Jerry Keane was determined. The police brought forward the threats, the messy divorce, cows odd behavior, and most importantly, the blood spatter in the house as their evidence. Criminologist Henry Lee would be instrumental in their case. Best known for his work in

the O.J. Simpson trial, Lee was able to use the blood spots to the police's advantage. According to Lee, the spots indicated that Michelle had been beaten in the garage. The spatter was small, and there was very little blood, but the pattern indicated medium velocity, which would have come from a small, blunt object, not a bloody nose or cut finger, as Cal Harris had stated. Moreover, the area rug had a square-shaped pattern of blood on it, indicating that a murder weapon had been dropped there. Cal's defense attorneys dismissed the blood, saying it could have been very old. A few drops of blood did not mean he had beaten his wife to death and then hid the body. What else could there be to implicate Cal in her possible murder.

For one, even though every other suspect had agreed to take a lie detector test, Cal had refused adamantly. He had also refused to testify at the trial, which only appeared to make him more guilty. After two weeks of testimony, witnesses, and police evidence, the case went to the jury. But against testimonies of threats, his odd behavior, and a few spots of blood, Cal only needed reasonable doubt to avoid a conviction. After four hours of deliberation over two days, the jury handed down its verdict. Cal Harris was guilty of the second-degree murder of his wife, Michelle Ann Harris.

Standing in the courtroom, Cal burst into tears. Michelle's family rejoiced, getting the justice they had been looking for. Meanwhile, Cal's defense attorney stood stunned. They didn't understand how Cal could have been convicted on such slim evidence. But to the jurors, this was an open and shut case. Many small pieces of evidence had come together to create a damning picture. And they would later say that it was Cowell's actions that gave him away. He never joined in a single search.

He went to work instead of staying home or looking for her. He never tried to help the police, nor did he give them a single clue. on where they might find her. But two months later, only days before Cal was set to receive his sentence, a new witness, Kevin Tubbs, came forward. Kevin Tubbs, a local farmer, stated that on the morning Michelle Harris disappeared, he saw two vehicles parked at the end of the estate in the pre-dawn hours. One was Michelle's van, and the other was a blue pickup truck.

He was able to see both vehicles in the headlights of his tractor, as well as the two attendants. One was a blonde woman who seemed to be crying, the other was a dark-haired, dark-complexioned man. If Kevin had seen Michelle that morning just before dawn, Cal wouldn't have had time to kill her and hide the body before calling Barb Thayer, who lived only six minutes away. Now, Kevin admitted he didn't get a close look, but he was certain the woman was Michelle. This evidence was enough to have the case overturned, and Cal Harris was set free. James Keeney vowed to prosecute him again, and his resilience allowed the trial to resume in July of 2009. For this one, the courts would argue over Cal Harris's guilt or innocence until 2016, but his second trial once again found him guilty, and so he spent three and a half years in prison.

During this time, he and his lawyers worked hard to appeal the court's decision, and eventually, again, it was overturned. This time they cited issues with the jury and the admissibility of hearsay evidence. So they geared up for a third trial. That one ended in a split jury and a mistrial. And the fourth and final trial would be a bench trial rather than a jury trial. This time around, it gave Cal the results he was looking for. He was found not guilty and set free for the final time. children who were all nearly adults at this point were just thankful that it was all over. Michelle's family was devastated, but the verdict against Cal didn't mean the fight to find Michelle's killer was over. Two additional suspects had been revealed over the 10 years of deliberations.

It was the man beside the truck identified as Stacey Stewart and his friend Christopher Thomason. Stacey Stewart and his friend Christopher were Texas natives who had come to New York for work. They had also appeared to be regulars at lefties. According to an ex-girlfriend of Stacey's, he had a pretty sordid reputation. Stewart, according to this friend, was once a bona fide member of the Ku Klux Klan. He also claimed to have been a murderer and to know how to hide a body. According to the ex-girlfriend, Stacey stated that he was the last person to see Michelle alive. Kevin Tubbs positively identified Stacey as being the man he saw standing next to the truck,

but many doubt his account. It was dark, and he had only seen him as he was passing by. Tubbs selected his photo out of a lineup, even positively identifying the car that Stacey had driven at the time. Still, others argued that the two other images in the group showed men who bore no resemblance to Stacey. Christopher Thomason, while not directly being blamed for her murder, allegedly knew that Stacey was involved.

Christopher's ex-wife testified that he, Stacy, and her. Michelle had been drinking together the night of the 11th after Michelle had visited Brian early. After they left the bar, the two went off alone. The ex-wife stated that Christopher told her Stacey had probably buried her in concrete after taking her life. The most concerning testimony came from an ex-girlfriend of Stewart's. Her name was Tara Wade. The morning after Michelle Harris had vanished, she and Thomason had gone over to Stacey's house, and Thomason had been covered in blood. He said he had killed a deer and skinned it,

but years later, the account seemed far more sinister. He also allegedly told Wade that he and Stacey had been suspected of murdering a woman in New York, a woman that Stacey had been sleeping with. But when Cal Harris was convicted, they stopped worrying about being caught. When police went looking for Stacey,

they found that both he and Christopher had moved back to Texas. The timing of this was nothing short of dubious as they had fled the state after police had come asking them to testify in Cal Harris's trials. Not only that, but Stacey seemed impossible to find, even in Texas. They did, however, find that women's clothing scraps had been recovered from a burn pit on a property that Stacy had once owned. The evidence was brought forward in Cal Harris's third and fourth trials, but nothing has come of the suspect's involvement since. Cal Harris would go on to file a lawsuit against Tyoga County for malicious prosecution, although it's still unclear who won or if the lawsuit is still ongoing.

In 2025, Cal promised a $100,000 reward to anyone who could give him information leading to the recovery of his ex-wife's remains. He stands firm in the statement that he had nothing to do with her disappearance and shared information on Stacey and Christopher that may lead the public in the right direction. He hopes that someone can prove his innocence one day by bringing forward Michelle's remains. Michelle's children, despite losing their mother so young and nearly being orphaned by the court system, have all grown to become successful adults, with Jenna having her own child just this year. They love their father dearly, but continue in life without their mother to guide them.

Jenna admits that she's afraid to enter motherhood without Michelle to support her. These four children, now adults, may have been the ones who, suffered most besides Michelle herself. During the three years of their father's incarceration, they were left parentless, only able to see him for one-hour visitations. Most of all, they were forced to wonder if their father was a monster who had taken their mother's life. They fought through the pain, succeeding in life despite the overwhelming odds. At a press conference in May of 2025, these scarred but strong young adults shared their pain with the masses. They spoke about how the trial and disappearance of their mother had changed their lives.

Alongside them, Cal's lawyer, Ida Lysenring, described the suffering of the Harris family. Every holiday, every birthday, an empty seat is left at the table, hoping Michelle will join them, even if just in spirit. Cal Harris, too, attended, and despite remaining adamant that he never harmed her, he states that he knows his ex-wife is dead. When asked why, he stated that it was because, Hence she'd been alive, nothing would have stopped her from returning to her children. In each of these cases, at every single turn, a heart was broken.

Because of the tragedy of September 11, 2001, three lives were ended among the thousands claimed by the madness of terror. The same hatred that took the lives of the September 11th victims also took the lives of a young mother, a rising doctor, and a working father. So along with the souls of the victims lost on 9-11, let us not forget the names of Dr. Snejof-Philip, Henrik Seviak, and Michelle Harris. They too were loved by all who knew them,

and their names will live on forever as long as we never forget their stories. Today, we will be making a donation to Tuesday's children, which supports all those impacted. on Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, and in recovery efforts. Hey, everybody, thank you so much for listening to today's episode of Murder in America. We know that this is a very important topic that we aim to cover with as much respect as possible. And obviously, both Courtney and I's hearts and thoughts go out to anybody who's listening to the show who may have known someone or had a family member that was affected by the 9-11 terrorist attacks. These stories, though, are important because there's never been any justice for any of these three families

whose loved ones died or disappeared under mysterious circumstances on the same day that so many thousands of others did in the same state. If you enjoy our show and you want to help support what we do here, please consider joining us on Patreon. On Patreon, we release every episode of the show early and ad-free, so if you don't like the ads and you want to get access early, please consider joining us on there. And we also have an entire library of bonus episodes. We actually post two bonus episodes of the show on our Patreon every single month. So if you've never signed up to become a patron and you sign up today, you can get access to, I don't even know the number anymore, 120 or so bonus episodes of the show. And these are full-length episodes with both Courtney and I and the sound design and music,

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