Before we finish the story of Dennis Mahon, let's take a little side quest to learn about his identical twin brother, Daniel. In 1999, Daniel Mahon was fired from his job as an aircraft mechanic at American Airlines. The company felt he was creating a racially hostile work environment. According to the lawsuit he filed, Daniel Mahon felt it was anti-white racism. His deposition in that case gives us an unreliable narrator's view of his brother's life. Sources: Ellis, Charles. Joe Wilson and the Creation of Xerox. John Wiley & Sons Inc, 2006 Kennard, Matt. Irregular Army: How the US Military Recruited Neo-Nazis, Gang Members, and Criminals to Fight the War on Terror. London: Verso. 2012 Cullick, Jonathan. The Literary Offenses of a Neo-Nazi: Narrative Voice in "The Turner Diaries"Studies in Popular Culture, APRIL 2002, Vol. 24, No. 3, pp. 87-99Published by: Popular Culture Association in the South https://rbscp.lib.rochester.edu/4489 https://www.democratandchronicle.com/story/news/2014/07/19/roberta-abbott-buckle-rochester-riots/12855941/ https://www.democratandchronicle.com/story/news/2014/07/19/rochester-riots-timeline/12885229/ https://www.vice.com/en/article/eaux-claires-2017-bon-iver-justin-vernon-dad-wisconsin-secret-jazz-scene/ https://nmb.gov/NMB_Application/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/vernon-gil_res.pdf https://www.courtlistener.com/docket/11292236/mahon-v-american-airlines/ See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Nå er det enkelt å lage plass til alt det du liker best.
Få orden i kjøkken og skap med vår matoppevaring.
Welcome to the Criminalia podcast.
I'm Maria Tremarki.
And I'm Holly Frey.
Together, we invite you into the dark and winding corridors of historical true crime.
Each season, we explore a new theme, from poisoners to art thieves.
We uncover the secrets of history's most interesting figures, from legal injustices to body snatching.
And tune in at the end of each episode as we indulge in cocktails and mocktails inspired by each story.
Listen to Criminalia on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, I'm Dani Shapiro, host of the hit podcast, Family Secrets.
How would you feel if when you met your biological father for the first time, he didn't even say hello?
And what if your past itself was a secret, and the time had suddenly come to share that past with your child?
These are just a few of the powerful and profound questions we'll be asking on our 11th season of Family Secrets.
Listen to season 11 of Family Secrets on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, listeners.
I'm Sloane Glass, the host of American Homicide, a podcast where we take you across the country to investigate some of America's deadliest crimes.
We'll explore how these murders are shaped by their unique landscapes and, in turn, how these tragedies have shaped the fabric of these American communities forever.
And you can get access to all episodes of American Homicide 100% ad-free and one week early through the iHeart True Crime Plus subscription, available exclusively on Apple Podcasts.
So don't wait.
Head to Apple Podcasts, search for iHeart True Crime Plus, and subscribe today.
Had enough of this country?
Ever dreamt about starting your own?
I planted the flag.
This is mine.
I own this.
It's surprisingly easy.
Here's 55 gallons of water, 500 pounds of concrete.
Or maybe not.
No country willingly gives up their territory.
Oh my God.
What is that?
Bullets.
Listen to Escape from Zakistan.
That's Escape from Z-A-Q-I-S-T-A-N. Binge the whole season on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Call Zone Media.
Hello and Happy New Year, everybody.
I think 2025 is going to be a banner year for Weird Little Guys, and I don't mean the show, unfortunately.
They're just making newer, weirder guys all the time lately, and I can hardly keep up.
And as time marches on, I'm stuck in the past, connecting the dots on decades-old stories of the Weird Little Guys who came before the right-wing terrorists of today.
I hope you're having a peaceful and cheerful holiday season, whatever that looks like for you.
I had every intention of using that week of relative downtime to get caught up, maybe even get ahead.
It probably won't surprise you to hear that absolutely did not happen.
Something about the twinkle of Christmas lights pulled me away from my maniacal sprawling notes about Oklahoma City bombing conspiracy theories.
I can't explain it.
And as I was chipping away at the next chapter of Dennis Mahon's life, I realized there was a strange little side story that I was going to have to cut.
It just didn't fit in the narrative flow, and it wasn't 100% relevant to the story arc I was plotting out, so I was prepared to scrap it.
It certainly wouldn't be the first time and I know it won't be the last.
I love a little side story, but I'm starting to get the feel for the kinds of side stories that will take us off course for an interesting few minutes and the ones that are going to derail the whole episode.
And this was the latter.
But then I remembered, this is my show.
I'm the captain of this ship.
And for me, getting to the point has never been the point.
We're on a journey here, and I never really know where I'm taking us until I get there.
We'll get back to Dennis Mahon in Elohim City and the bomb he mailed to a public library in Arizona in the next episode.
I promise.
But this week we're going on a side quest, because I just couldn't bear to cut the story of one of my favorite kinds of things to find in a weird little guy's past.
A lawsuit about anti-white discrimination.
So if you'll indulge me, here's the story of our convicted bomber's twin brother getting fired because he wouldn't stop wearing the Nazi t-shirt he bought at a gun show.
I'm Molly Conger, and this is Weird Little Guys.
The last few episodes have been about Dennis Mahon.
We've talked about the first few decades of his life.
He was born in a small community in northern Illinois in 1950.
He served in the Army after high school and trained as an aircraft mechanic.
In the late 70s, he joined the Ku Klux Klan and then the neo-Nazi group National Alliance.
In interviews with journalists over the years, he's often claimed his belief in the importance of racial separatism arose from his experience in the Florida National Guard when his unit was deployed in May of 1980 to assist in transporting Cuban refugees during the Mariel Boatlift crisis.
Thanks.
I don't doubt that he was there, or that having to interact with asylum seekers deepened his hatred of people who aren't white, but the record does seem to indicate that he'd already joined the Klan before the first boat arrived in Miami that month.
From there, Dennis disappeared for a few years.
He claims to have been underground, carrying out Klan bombings in Florida, Michigan, and Oklahoma, targeting synagogues, government office buildings, and abortion clinics.
He reemerged in Kansas City in 1987 as a regional organizer for the Klan.
I won't retread the entirety of those last two episodes, but we've been following Dennis all over the country, the world even, from Kansas City to Canada, from Tulsa to Berlin.
He won a lawsuit over his right to broadcast a racist public access TV show.
He lost a lawsuit to Fred Rogers.
He got banned from Canada.
He tried to revive the Klan in Germany.
And he absolutely loved talking to reporters.
As far as mid-level hate group organizers go, he's a little unusual in that respect.
So there's ample record of where he was, what he was up to, who his friends were, and the narrative about himself that he wanted you to believe.
But all this time, we've been talking about Dennis Mahon.
And there's been someone else in the story that we haven't talked much about.
He's been there.
He's always there.
But he's much quieter.
He keeps his name out of things.
But Dennis Mahon's identical twin brother Daniel Mahon was there all along.
As I mentioned in the last episode, Daniel Mahon has never been convicted of a crime.
He was indicted alongside his brother in 2009, a saga we'll cover next week.
But unlike his brother, who is serving a 40-year sentence in Terre Haute, Daniel wasn't convicted.
And if you ask Daniel, he'd tell you that he was never a member of any of those groups his brother was mixed up in.
I mean, I didn't ask him.
I guess I could have tried to reach him for comment.
But I think he'd tell me the same thing he told an attorney for American Airlines during a deposition in 2003. That he was never what he called a card-carrying member of the Ku Klux Klan or White Aryan Resistance or National Alliance.
So, just for the record here at the top, I'll make no allegations that haven't been made in sworn statements by agents of the FBI or the ATF. Daniel Mahon isn't guilty of any crimes.
A matching set of genes doesn't necessarily mean you carry a matching set of beliefs.
But I read a few hundred pages of his own sworn testimony that left me with the impression that these identical twins share a little bit more than their DNA. With Dennis occupying the spotlight, the record on Daniel is actually pretty sparse.
A lot of what I can say about him with any degree of certainty came out of his own mouth in this deposition he sat for on October 29, 2003. He was three years into a lawsuit against his former employer, American Airlines, over his termination in May of 1999. For nine hours, he answered questions about his involvement in the company's Caucasian employee resource group.
But even a side story has to start before the beginning.
So before we get to the strange revelations in that conference room in Tulsa, I want to set the scene a little bit with some history about the concept of employee resource groups.
If you've ever worked for almost any big corporation these days, you've probably seen a flyer in the break room for something like this.
They might be called employee resource groups, ERGs, employee affinity groups, business network groups or some other mishmash of corporate buzzwords about mentorship and networking.
ERGs are, according to a continuing education module for corporate lawyers that I found,"...organized based on social identity, shared characteristics, or life experience.
Affinity groups are generally initiated by employees and often involve or implicate protected classes, such as sex, gender, sexual orientation, race, national origin, disability, and veteran status." Today's employee resource groups have expanded to include other kinds of shared interests.
But at their core, they allow employees who belong to a particular group To network, support and mentor one another, and advocate for themselves within the company.
The ghouls at McKinsey say that they can be a valuable tool to recruit and retain a diverse workforce by fostering a sense of inclusion, and they can provide a ready pool of diverse faces to send to panels and recruitment events.
I found one press release praising the efforts of the Hispanic Employee Resource Group at JPMorgan Chase.
The group's mentorship program led to a measurable increase in Hispanic women in management positions.
And for the most part, these groups sound like something cooked up by an HR department to put in a shareholder meeting slideshow.
But there's a history here.
The idea of people who share a particular life experience getting together to talk about it is obviously not new.
That's not something anyone came up with.
You don't have to invent that.
But the employee resource group as it exists in corporate America today originated with the National Black Employee Caucus at Xerox in 1970. All of the human resources blurbs and business press puff pieces about employee resource groups kind of just leave the story there.
They started at Xerox 1970. But there's always more to a story than that.
And apparently Xerox was up to some pretty radical diversity, equity, and inclusion corporate practice decades before anyone ever said that phrase out loud.
In 1966, the first student at Xerox's international fellowship program was a Fulbright scholar from Ethiopia, who happened to be the younger brother of a member of Haile Selassie's cabinet.
In 1968, the company spent a million dollars to sponsor a television series called Of Black America.
The seven-part documentary on Black history, from slavery through the still ongoing riots that followed the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., aired in prime time.
And it earned Xerox threatening letters from the Ku Klux Klan, and hysterical letters to the editor in papers across the country from small business owners swearing they were going to throw out their copy machines.
An op-ed in the London Evening Standard described the program as, quote,"...unmistakably hostile to the establishment." That same year, 1968, Xerox partnered with a Rochester-based civil rights group called FITE, which stands for Freedom, Integration, God, Honor, Today.
The New York Times called FITE, quote, a militant Negro organization, and made a pointed note that professional radical Saul Alinsky had had a hand in it, and that the press conference announcing this new venture was held in a room decorated with posters of H. Rap Brown, Stokely Carmichael, and Che Guevara.
But Xerox's partnership with FITE created the first black-run community development corporation in the United States.
Xerox spent millions on manufacturing equipment and job training in the creation of these Black-owned manufacturing companies that employed hundreds of Black employees in Rochester.
A manager at Xerox who'd worked on the plan said,"'My only question is, why didn't we do it sooner?' The first manufacturing plant funded by Xerox through the Fight Partnership opened at what used to be a boarded-up factory, just a few blocks away from the center of the violence that had inspired Xerox President Joseph Wilson to pour millions of dollars into diversifying his workforce.
The 1964 Rochester Riots.
I know we're a little far afield here.
Daniel Mahon was 14 years old and living in Davis Junction, Illinois in the summer of 1964. But sometimes the way history repeats and rhymes and echoes is just irresistible to me.
Because there is another race riot later in this story, and it seems irresponsible not to draw the lines that connect these things.
On Friday, July 24, 1964, in Rochester, New York, the Northeast Mothers Association had a permit to hold a block party in Rochester's 7th Ward.
They were raising money to build a playground in the neighborhood.
Around 200 people attended the event in the early evening.
But as the night wore on and the children went to bed, the streets were still full of people having a good time on a hot summer night.
Around 11 p.m., two Rochester police officers confronted a man they said was behaving in, quote, an unruly manner.
They moved to arrest 20-year-old Randy Manigal.
Bystanders saw the officers using excessive force on a young black man, and some of them tried to intervene.
Within half an hour, the Rochester Police Department had set dogs on the neighbors, something they'd promised they wouldn't do again after prior incidents involving police dogs mauling black residents.
By 1 a.m., the fire hoses were out.
The crowd had swelled to hundreds, and officers were firing tear gas canisters indiscriminately.
When the sun rose, state police arrived to a crowd that had grown to the thousands, The violence continued for a full 48 hours.
But by the time 1,000 National Guardsmen arrived on Sunday, it was over.
The County Civil Defense Director, Robert Abbott, was surveying the scene from a helicopter, hours after the riot ended, when the pilot lost control of the aircraft and crashed into a house on Clarissa Street.
Two occupants of the home were burned to death.
Both the pilot and Robert Abbott died of their injuries.
A later report on the crash says that alcohol played a role, and no reporting I could find from the time period named the two black men who burned to death inside their own home.
By the time the dust settled, five people were dead, hundreds had been injured, and nearly 1,000 people had been arrested.
Initial reporting, as ever, blamed the unrest on outside agitators.
Later analysis of those arrests, however, would show that only 14 of the people arrested lived outside of Monroe County.
In the aftermath of the riot, Joseph Wilson asked a manager at Xerox how many black employees he had.
The answer was six.
Determined to change that, he approached local civil rights leader Reverend Franklin Florence to work out a plan.
One of the barriers the company had to hiring more black employees was a systemic one.
An unemployed black man in 1965 was less likely than his white counterpart to have a high school diploma.
The program they developed was called Operation Step Up.
Black men ages 18 to 25 without high school diplomas would work half a day on the factory floor and spend half a day in a classroom with teachers hired by Xerox to prepare them for a high school equivalency test.
By 1966, Xerox was bringing classes of 25 men at a time through the program.
After finishing their high school courses, the men became full-time union factory employees.
Wilson worked closely with Reverend Florence to bridge cultural gaps.
Assembly line foremen received additional training on race relations.
Clergy were hired to assist in classroom management and guidance.
And hundreds of young men got high school diplomas and good union jobs.
When I first read that Wilson started the Black Employee Resource Group in 1970, in response to those riots in 1964, I didn't understand why there were six years in between the inciting incident and the actual formation of the group.
But this is why.
There weren't any Black employees in 1964. He spent that time investing in the community and building a more diverse workforce.
Today's HR guidance talks about how ERGs can attract a diverse workforce.
But the very first one only existed at all because work was done to address the systemic problems facing those employees.
The formation of the National Black Employee Caucus in 1970 is the only part of this work that seems to get remembered in human resources industry newsletters about workplace diversity.
I'm not sure why corporate America isn't interested in celebrating his financial support of black radicals.
But that's the story of how we got employee resource groups.
Which brings us back to Daniel Mahon, the Klansman's brother, making flyers for a Caucasian employee resource group at the American Airlines Diversity Fair, 1999. Daniel Mahon did not start the Caucasian Employee Resource Group at the American Airlines Maintenance and Engineering Facility in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
By his account, he wasn't even interested in being a member and didn't attend a meeting of the group at all in its first few months.
And the fact of the group's existence wasn't even the issue here.
Nowhere in the procedural history of the lawsuit that follows does anyone even say that there should not have been an affinity group for white people.
In fact, the Diversity Advisory Council said that they were, quote, saddened by the need to suspend the group for six months over Daniel's actions.
And they called the group a valuable member of the Diversity Advisory Council family.
No, there was inexplicably no problem at all with the Caucasian Employee Resource Group until Daniel Mahon showed up in a Turner Diaries t-shirt at a meeting to discuss the racist pamphlets he made for the diversity fair.
Everyone agrees that Daniel Mahon wasn't fired just because he was a member of the white employee group.
But Daniel went to court claiming that he was fired just for being white. .
Havregryn til venstre, makaroner til høyre.
Nå er det enkelt å lage plass til alt det du liker best.
Få orden i kjøkken og skap med vår matoppevaring.
Welcome to the Criminalia podcast.
I'm Maria Tremarki.
And I'm Holly Frey.
Together, we invite you into the dark and winding corridors of historical true crime.
Each season, we explore a new theme, everything from poisoners and pirates to art thieves and snake oil products and those who made and sold them.
We uncover the stories and secrets of some of history's most compelling criminal figures, including a man who built a submarine as a getaway vehicle.
Yep, that's a fact.
We also look at what kinds of societal forces were at play at the time of the crime, from legal injustices to the ethics of body snatching, to see what, if anything, might look different through today's perspective.
And be sure to tune in at the end of each episode as we indulge in custom-made cocktails and mocktails inspired by the stories.
There's one for every story we tell.
Listen to Criminalia on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, listeners.
I'm Sloane Glass, the host of American Homicide, a podcast where we take you across the country to investigate some of America's deadliest crimes.
We'll explore how these murders are shaped by their unique landscapes and, in turn, how these tragedies have shaped the fabric of these American communities forever.
And you can get access to all episodes of American Homicide 100% ad-free and one week early through the iHeart True Crime Plus subscription, available exclusively on Apple Podcasts.
So don't wait.
Head to Apple Podcasts, search for iHeart True Crime Plus, and subscribe today.
On March 11, 1999, there was a diversity fair at the American Airlines Maintenance and Engineering Base in Tulsa, there was a diversity fair at the American Airlines Maintenance and The company had, as a part of their corporate diversity program, encouraged the formation of a variety of employee resource groups.
There was an African American ERG, an Asian culture association, one for women in aviation, a Jewish ERG, an employees with disabilities ERG, a gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender ERG, Christian, Muslim, Latin, Indian, Native American, one for employees over 40, one for people interested in improving their work-life balance.
And of course, there was the Caucasian employee resource group.
There may have been others later on, but these are the ones that were listed in a company pamphlet about the program that was written in 1999. And just as an aside, I was kind of struck by the inclusion of the T in the LGBT group in 1999. You forget sometimes that it wasn't always the lightning rod that it is today.
I guess for a long time, everybody just hated all queer people the same.
It's hard to feel like it's progress to get assimilation for some at the cost of heightened demonization of part of our community.
But...
Nevertheless, shout out to the Trans Aircraft Mechanics in Oklahoma in 1999. I know you were going through it.
The Diversity Fair was an opportunity for every employee resource group to set up a booth and talk to their fellow employees about the group and hand out flyers and network.
It's a nice idea.
You don't have to be a member of a particular group to show an interest in the work being done by their ERG. And this kind of thing might provide an employee with a chance to find out about something like the disability ERG's advocacy around company policies that impact disabled customers.
To be honest, I imagine you probably didn't have to clock out to take an hour to walk around the diversity fair.
So, even if you got nothing out of it, maybe you wasted a little time at work.
You know?
Everybody wins.
But racists always ruin the fun.
Daniel Mahon wasn't there that day, but the pamphlets he made were.
Other members of the Caucasian Employee Resource Group handed out a flyer celebrating aviation pioneers.
It's pretty amateur stuff.
This was before people really had access to computers.
Computers existed, obviously.
The 90s weren't the Stone Ages.
I personally was spending hours coloring in shapes on kid pics.
But we were pretty lucky to have a computer at home in the 90s.
So this wasn't Photoshop, right?
He cut out pictures of famous aviators and glued them to a piece of paper, and then he ran that sheet through a manual typewriter to type the captions onto it.
And then he took the resulting Frankenflyer to a Kinko's and ran copies.
So it's not a high-quality product, even before we get to the racism.
And it's got some of the historical aviators you're probably imagining.
A picture of Amelia Earhart is captioned, Pioneer woman aviator!
Wilbur Wright gets first powered flight.
Chuck Yeager is captioned, First to break the sound barrier.
Nothing weird here.
Charles Lindbergh was a Nazi sympathizer and a virulent anti-Semite, and Wernher von Braun was literally a Nazi.
But yeah, I guess, technically, personal lives aside, to the extent that being a member of the SS is your personal life, they do fit the bill here as pioneers in aviation.
The problem with the flyers becomes apparent when you get to the back.
Because underneath a cut-and-pasted picture of a cartoon airplane, it says...
These famous men and women who made aviation history all have one thing in common.
They are members of the white race.
A race of explorers, discoverers, scientists and philosophers.
We are proud of the accomplishments of our noble race in the past, present and future.
Several of these heroes of aviation have their names misspelled.
He's missing the H and Wernher von Braun, and I swear it looks like he spelled Braun with a W instead of a U, but to be fair, that could be a photocopier artifact.
World War I fighter pilot Edward Rickenbacker is missing the last two letters of his last name.
Italian aviator Francesco Brachpapa is captioned as Francisco, and Francisco isn't even spelled right.
And in the little racist blurb on the back, the word philosopher doesn't have an L in it.
I'm not just pointing this out to clown on a working-class man who can't spell.
It's okay if you can't spell.
That doesn't make you a bad person.
Because in the interest of fairness, I do want to say that the flyer is full of typographical errors.
Because he would later claim to have made another typo.
He capitalized the first letters in the words white race, where they appear in the middle of a sentence with otherwise standard capitalization.
And this is a standard practice in white supremacist literature.
During the investigation, he maintained that it had no particular meaning.
He was just a bad typist.
So, yes, he did spell a lot of these words wrong.
But that's a combination of this admittedly poor typing and probably just plain not knowing.
But there aren't any other errors in capitalization.
So all things considered, this looks like a style choice, not a mistake.
Within hours of the pamphlets being distributed at the diversity fair, there were complaints.
Two weeks later, the Diversity Advisory Council that oversaw the resource groups made the decision to suspend the Caucasian employee resource group for a period of six months.
No one was really in trouble.
None of the employees involved with the group were being disciplined.
The group wasn't even being banned.
They just needed to take a few months off to reassess their alignment with the company's policies governing such groups.
Including requirements that all employee resource groups support the company's policy on non-discrimination and a harassment-free workplace.
Promoting tolerance and respect for other employees.
And not having any financial or organizational ties to outside groups.
And Daniel's flyer seems to violate all of these rules.
In the earliest meetings that management had about these flyers, it was clear that everyone knew who Daniel's brother was.
To place us back in Dennis' timeline, it's 1999. Dennis Mayon was a well-known white supremacist, neo-Nazi, and Ku Klux Klan organizer.
You didn't have to be in the know about clandestine organizations to know that.
It wasn't a secret.
He ran for mayor of Tulsa in 1992 and again in 1998. In the mid-90s, he paid to have a billboard put up in Tulsa honoring Robert Matthews, the leader of the Nazi bank robbery gang that murdered Alan Berg.
The Nazi skinhead gang that he cultivated for white Aryan resistance shot a little girl in the face in Tulsa in the late 80s.
He was banned from entering Canada, the UK, and Germany.
And by this point in the late 90s, Dennis was at the center of a number of conspiracy theories about the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995. And he had just been quite publicly called before a grand jury on the matter in 1998, just a few months before all of this is happening.
This isn't niche stuff.
170 people, including an entire daycare center, were murdered an hour and a half away from where this workplace meeting is happening.
And a lot of people thought that Dennis helped make that bomb.
Plenty of people were very aware that Dennis Mahon was fond of telling reporters that he thought Timothy McVeigh was a very courageous man with tremendous drive and, quote, if we had a hundred men like him in this country, we'd probably change things around.
So when the Diversity Advisory Council met to discuss the flyers two weeks after the diversity fair, they knew...
They knew who Daniel's twin brother was.
The minutes from that meeting don't mention either Mahon brother by name, but they say the flyer was developed by individuals believed to have an affiliation with local extremist groups.
And they even seem to indicate a familiarity with some of the particulars of Dennis's publications, noting that, quote, some of the comments on the flyer were similar to the rhetoric used by those groups in a racist nature.
You know, I have to hand it to them.
It's very clear that they knew what they were looking at, and they understood the importance of nipping it in the bud.
And it could have ended there.
Nobody was in trouble.
A line had been crossed.
The company made it clear where that line was.
And everybody was just going to take a beat to reflect on the experience.
But if there's one thing so many of these weird little guys have in common, it's that they absolutely do not know when to shut the fuck up.
The company made the decision at the end of March 1999 to suspend the Caucasian Employee Resource Group just for six months.
But it wasn't until the April 20th, 1999 meeting of the Caucasian ERG that some members of management met with the group to explain this decision.
Daniel Mahon arrived at the meeting wearing a t-shirt, printed with the picture of the cover of a book.
The cover depicts a man pointing a rifle and a woman pointing a handgun.
You can't see what they're aiming at, but they both clearly have something in their sights.
Above their heads, the text reads, The Turner Diaries.
This book comes up too often on this show.
I never know how thoroughly to retread this ground.
But this could be your first episode, and how confused must you be right now?
We're kind of in the middle of a longer story here.
But The Turner Diaries is a novel, written by the founder of the neo-Nazi group National Alliance.
After a few years coming out in a serialized format in a Nazi newsletter, it was published as a book in 1978, and sold through the mail in ads in Nazi newsletters and at gun shows and cross-burnings.
The violence in the novel is fictional, of course.
But it's been the inspiration for many murderers and domestic terrorists.
When Robert Matthews formed the Order, the Nazi terrorist group whose bank robberies financed paramilitary compounds, he borrowed the name from the book.
When Timothy McVeigh was arrested after the Oklahoma City bombing, he had the pages of his favorite passages sitting on the seat in the car next to him.
When John William King chained James Byrd Jr. to the back of his truck, moments before dragging him to death in Texas in 1998, he joked to his accomplices that we're starting the Turner Diaries early.
Because that's what happens in the Turner Diaries.
The day of the rope.
A nationwide mass lynching of black people, Jewish people, journalists, race traitors...
It's not a good book.
It's not well written.
One online review of the book complains that, despite all the violence in this novel, there is much tedium and little conflict.
But literary abomination or not, the book has inspired murders all over the world for decades.
And that's the shirt that Daniel wore to the meeting about his white pride pamphlets.
And that was the line.
Apparently.
There were more complaints.
The initial decision to just suspend the group's activities obviously wasn't going to cut it.
An investigation was opened into the complaints about Daniel's workplace conduct.
And on May 10, 1999, he was fired.
The termination letter says, in addition to other findings in the investigation, wearing that shirt to the meeting created a racially hostile work environment.
As a member of the Transport Workers Union, he filed a grievance protesting the decision, and it was ultimately appealed to the Board of Adjustment.
In November of 1999, a full hearing was conducted, lasting three days.
Daniel Mahon has always claimed that he had no involvement in his brother's activities.
At the hearing, the company produced as evidence a Klan newsletter naming Daniel M. of Tulsa as White Patriot of the Month for his tremendous efforts in financial support of the struggle and thanking him for his help setting up the cross at a cross-burning event.
He also provided the tent, the sound system, and the portable generator.
The newsletter goes on to describe his large collection of Klan and National Socialist White Power merchandise and praises him for supplying many white power groups with t-shirts over the years.
He would ultimately admit that, yes, he is Daniel M. of Tulsa, but he really downplayed the praise that's being heaped upon him here.
He was just helping his brother out.
He wasn't at the cross burning.
He just gave his brother a ride there.
The company called an expert witness to present evidence of the Mahon brothers' white supremacist activities, including that Klan newsletter naming Daniel White Patriot of the Month.
The expert also explained the significance of the language and the capitalization used in the flyer.
The board's opinion doesn't name this expert witness, but I'm willing to risk $5 betting that it was Daniel Levitas.
If I'd managed my time better this week, I would have written and asked him.
Over the course of three days, witness after witness was called.
And the official reason for the termination had been the incident with the Turner Diaries t-shirt.
But it came out in this hearing that this was far from the first time Daniel Mahon's white supremacist ties had caused friction at work.
His supervisor testified that on Daniel's very first day at American Airlines, back in 1986, he'd been complaining loudly about Jews and N-words...
Two other supervisors testified about two separate incidents where they'd warned him not to bring Klan or white Aryan resistance materials to work.
There'd been another complaint about him wearing a KKK hat and belt buckle.
Multiple employees had complained about a KKK knife.
A supervisor who worked nights as a security guard had been assigned a shift at a local gun show, where he saw Daniel Mahon selling merchandise at the Aryan Nations booth.
The supervisor testified that Daniel called him over and tried to give him an Aryan Nations t-shirt, but he declined.
The same supervisor testified that Daniel had invited him over to his house one night and showed him a racially violent movie and tried to give him white supremacist texts.
A Walgreens cashier testified that sometime after Daniel's termination, the brothers came into the drugstore to drop off some film to be developed, and a visibly intoxicated Dennis Mahon was shouting about how if American Airlines didn't give his brother his job back, they were going to see the biggest bomb they ever had.
The expert offered evidence that Daniel's grievance with the company was a subject of significant discussion and fundraising in white supremacist newsletters and broadcasts, which undermines his claim that he had no connection to those groups.
Daniel Mahon's union representative advised him not to testify on his own behalf.
But they did put on several witnesses who testified that he was a model employee, that he had been kind to them, or that they personally had not been offended by the flyers.
Linda Dill and Craig Nichols, the employees who actually led the Caucasian Employee Resource Group, testified that it was not true that Daniel had explicitly told the group that his brother would help him make the flyers.
The board was unconvinced, writing in their final opinion in March of 2000, quote, clearly he holds white supremacist beliefs and has ties to and involvement in such organizations.
The opinion is clear that he can't be, and isn't being, disciplined for his brother's conduct.
or even for his own conduct outside of work.
But this background reflects unfavorably on the underlying intent of the flyers and the decision to wear the Turner Diaries shirt to work.
Their summary of the evidence concludes by saying, The fact that he was technically proficient and nice to some people doesn't outweigh all the other evidence, nor is it directly related to the specific nature of his conduct in this case.
The decision to uphold determination was two to one.
Arbitrator Gil Vernon and American Airlines employee Mary Tinsman agreed, with J.C. Brown dissenting.
I struggle to pin down who J.C. Brown might have been, but Gil Vernon is kind of a big deal in the world of union arbitration anyway.
In 1996, President Clinton appointed him to a commission to help resolve a national railroad labor dispute.
President Obama appointed him to a similar body in 2011. He's an arbitrator for Major League Baseball.
He was the president of the National Academy of Arbitrators in 2010. And he is also Bon Iver's dad.
Well, his son is Justin Vernon, the frontman of the indie folk band.
So, next time you hear a Bon Iver song, I guess you can think about the time his dad wrote this about a racist.
His message was subtle, but in clearly resonant tones rang true only to the sad song of racial superiority.
Clever equivocation and veiled threats are part and parcel of the grievance ilk.
And he can't hide behind cleverness at the expense of the security, dignity, and respect of other workers who do not share his race or ethnicity or his attitudes about racial nobility.
Much is debated in this record.
However, in the final analysis, something must be said in plain and simple terms.
At the root of grievance conduct was hate.
Welcome to the Criminalia Podcast.
I'm Maria Tremarchi.
And I'm Holly Frey.
Together, we invite you into the dark and winding corridors of historical true crime.
Each season, we explore a new theme, everything from poisoners and pirates to art thieves and snake oil products and those who made and sold them.
We uncover the stories and secrets of some of history's most compelling criminal figures, including a man who built a submarine as a getaway vehicle.
Yep, that's a fact.
We also look at what kinds of societal forces were at play at the time of the crime, from legal injustices to the ethics of body snatching, to see what, if anything, might look different through today's perspective.
And be sure to tune in at the end of each episode as we indulge in custom-made cocktails and mocktails inspired by the stories.
There's one for every story we tell.
Listen to Criminalia on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, listeners.
I'm Sloane Glass, the host of American Homicide, a podcast where we take you across the country to investigate some of America's deadliest crimes.
We'll explore how these murders are shaped by their unique landscapes and, in turn, how these tragedies have shaped the fabric of these American communities forever.
And you can get access to all episodes of American Homicide 100% ad-free and one week early through the iHeart True Crime Plus subscription available exclusively on Apple Podcasts.
So don't wait.
Head to Apple Podcasts, search for iHeart True Crime Plus, and subscribe today.
Daniel Mahon spent the next several months trying to find a lawyer.
He sent a letter to the law firm of former Oklahoma Attorney General Mike Turpin, but the firm turned the case down without even agreeing to meet with him.
He consulted with his friend Gene, but Gene wasn't interested in the case.
Gene, in this case, is a Tulsa area bankruptcy attorney named Francis Eugene Huff.
Daniel describes him as a conservative type person and a real nice guy.
And they'd been friends for about nine years by the time he was deposed in 2003. He doesn't offer up any other facts about Gene, like that he was a member of the Council of Conservative Citizens or the fact that he may have been too busy to take Daniel's case back then because he was in the middle of representing the Council of Conservative Citizens in their lawsuits regarding Confederate flags on public property.
The questioning about Huff leaves me with the impression that the lawyer asking the questions did not believe Daniel when he said that Gene Huff never helped him with his case.
Sometime in the summer of 2000, so after the arbitrator upheld his termination and before he filed his federal lawsuit, Daniel Mahon sent a letter to the ACLU asking them to take his case.
The letter doesn't read like it was written by Daniel Mahon.
And I don't just mean diction and spelling, although those may be dead giveaways.
The real tip-off is a handwritten note in the margin of the letter that says, Gene, should you print Daniel Mahon in place of I... So what it sounds like is that Gene wrote the letter pretending to be Daniel.
And when Daniel read it, he didn't understand that.
And so he was asking why the letter was written in the first person as though he had written it himself.
And for some reason, he mailed the letter to the ACLU like that.
He didn't get another copy of it without that strange note in the margin.
The letter is also written in cursive that doesn't match the style of cursive in Daniel's signature.
And then towards the end of the letter, it abruptly switches to print that does more closely match his handwriting.
Under oath, he says he wrote it himself and that Gene didn't help him.
The letter itself isn't reproduced in the court record that I could find, but it appears to have been riddled with false claims.
The local ACLU was already very familiar with Daniel Mahon's brother Dennis.
They'd represented him a decade earlier in his lawsuit against Kansas City over the Klan's public access TV show.
And it sounds like Daniel was doing his best to try to convince the ACLU that his firing had been a grave injustice.
Because not only was he nothing like his brother, but his brother wasn't even really so bad.
He would later claim that Dennis only got deported from Canada in 1993 because he was...
Which is almost certainly a reference to Holocaust denier David Irving, who had himself been banned from Canada in 1992. Daniel neglects to mention that the Canadian government was concerned that Dennis would incite violence at a Nazi rally during his visit.
The violence at that Nazi rally happened anyway, but Dennis wasn't there.
As for Dennis' trip to Germany, his brother says Dennis didn't even do any Nazi stuff there.
He just went to an old church to lay some flowers.
But it seems like the ACLU wasn't interested in going to bat for another Mahon, because they didn't take the case.
The lawyer he ended up hiring to represent him was a man named Robert Eugene Frazier III. And Frazier was young.
He'd only just passed the bar in 1999, the year before he met Daniel in the summer of 2000. Daniel says they met when Frazier answered a classified ad in the newspaper about a boat he was selling.
Frazier came to look at the boat, the men got to talking, Daniel found out he was a lawyer, and he agreed to take the case.
Daniel would claim in that deposition that Dennis had left the Klan for good in 1990 because Daniel gave him an ultimatum.
He said he didn't want that stuff going on in his house, which is where his brother lived.
He outright says that he's actually responsible for getting his brother out of hate group organizing.
But when he's pressed on this, he can't explain why, then, does his brother still live with him now, ten years later, and that kind of stuff was very much still going on in his house.
The brothers both got their mail at the same P.O. box, the one Dennis used for his White Power newsletters.
The phone line at the house they shared was the same one Dennis used to run his Dial a Racist hotline.
In this deposition in 2003, Daniel claims Dennis hasn't been involved with white Aryan resistance since 1995, and that he hasn't really been involved in anything in years.
That's just not true.
He should have been charged with perjury for that.
Because just a few weeks before he sat down to answer these questions, his twin brother was in the news in Arizona.
Residents of Mesa had received a flurry of racist flyers, and Dennis is quoted in the paper about it.
And the Arizona Republic describes him as the statewide director of white Aryan resistance.
In 2001, when Dennis announced that he was moving to Arizona, Governor Jane Hull asked residents to wear a green ribbon to show their opposition to Dennis.
Like to Dennis personally.
The newspaper quite literally says, quote, Governor Jane Hull wants Arizonans to wear a green ribbon to show unity against Dennis Mahon, leader of the white Aryan resistance supremacist group.
The headline is, Go Away, Mr. Mahon.
You can't look a court reporter in her eyes and say your brother hasn't been involved in racist stuff for years when the actual governor of a whole state is denouncing him by name like that.
The deposition transcript is a perplexing document.
Like I said, it's the most information I have about Daniel, straight from his own mouth, under oath.
But it's riddled with statements I know aren't true.
Either because I have a better source that contradicts him, or because it simply can't be true, due to reality.
Now, I won't say he's lying, because I just did before, but lying under oath is called perjury, and it's a crime.
And he hasn't been convicted of a crime.
But not everything he said was true.
And that's a fact.
And now some of it is just dates.
He says he married his wife Myrna in 1979, but the marriage license is 1978. Okay, a lot of men don't know their anniversary.
But he also consistently refers to Myrna as his wife in the present tense.
But by 2003, they'd been divorced for 19 years.
They split in 1984, and she had since remarried at least twice.
And several times during the proceeding, he brings up Myrna's race.
They met when he was in the Navy and he was stationed in the Philippines.
And would a man who was racist marry a Filipino woman?
The answer to that is yes.
Obviously.
Of course he could.
It happens all the time.
There's no shortage of white supremacist men with Asian, Pacific Islander, or Hispanic wives.
I once got an elaborate death threat from a fairly prominent neo-Nazi who uses his Latina wife's name on paperwork for his small business so he can claim it's a women and minority-owned business.
It happens a lot.
But a lot of his answers are muddled.
Dates that aren't possible, locations that don't match.
The kinds of mistakes you could chalk up to a hazy memory.
He recollects the time the Secret Service came to his house to talk to Dennis about pissing on Air Force One.
The plane was apparently parked in a Boeing hangar in Wichita, where Dennis was working at the time.
And he apparently entered the plane and relieved himself on the president's chair.
The deposition transcript describes this as having taken place in spring of 1999. I think that may be a transcriptionist's typographical error, because it has to be 1989. Daniel recalls that it was around two years after he and his wife separated.
But that's not quite right either.
They separated in 84. And the president in question was George Bush.
We've had two President Bushes, and Daniel occasionally claims that he and Myrna at some point got back together.
I don't know if that's true, but even if it is, none of these combinations of facts produce the possibility for all of these things to have been true at the same time.
Based on the description of the plane being in Wichita and Dennis being employed by an airline called Braniff at the time, it could only have been 1989. That's the only point in time during which Braniff Airlines operated at the Wichita airport and we had a president named Bush.
Whether Dennis actually pissed on Air Force One is anybody's guess.
But I don't doubt that he told people he did.
He wrote in his own Klan newsletter in 1991 that he'd urinated on a memorial to Holocaust victims when he visited a concentration camp in Germany.
And other important dates in his brother's life are similarly confused in Daniel's testimony.
We know Dennis himself has said that his racial awakening was in Florida in May of 1980. When Matthew Kennard interviewed him for his book about white supremacists in the military, he was very clear that his National Guard unit had been deployed that month to assist in transporting Cuban asylum seekers to processing and detention centers.
But that wasn't the only thing going on in Miami in May of 1980. Dennis' unit was deployed on May 3rd.
We know that.
But two weeks later, the National Guard was deployed again, this time to put down the Miami riots.
I think sometimes this pair of events gets muddled together.
It certainly did for Daniel.
But the riots had very little to do with the thousands of Cubans arriving by boat.
On May 17, 1980, an all-white male jury returned not guilty verdicts for all four of the Miami police officers who had beaten Arthur McDuffie to death a year earlier.
McDuffie had been a United States Marine, but more importantly, in the eyes of the officers who shattered his skull, he was a 33-year-old black man.
Three days of rioting followed the verdict.
18 people died.
On the second day of the riot, the National Guard was sent in.
I honestly couldn't tell you if the units deployed to transport Cuban asylum seekers starting on May 3rd were the same men deployed to the riots on May 18th.
I can't find any specifics about that.
I know the National Guard was transporting those people for a longer period of time than that, but I don't...
I don't know.
Dennis never mentioned the riots, though, when he spoke to Kennard about that time in his life.
But Daniel is adamant that it was the Miami riots that changed his brother that month, describing him as having been right in the thick of it, and that it was a pretty bloody situation.
He's mistaken about the dates again.
He says it was May 3rd, and he says 18 people died the first night.
But he's so specific about it.
He says that Dennis had to use his rifle on a civilian, and that the police officer next to him had a heart attack and died.
A Miami Police Department after-action report confirms at least some of this is based in fact.
On the afternoon of the second day of the riots, so May 18th, Miami police officer Lieutenant Edward McDermott was escorting National Guard troops when he suffered a massive heart attack and died.
The report doesn't include any mention of National Guardsmen firing their weapons.
It only outlines the occasions on which Miami police officers did.
But that's because the report is by the Miami Police Department.
I think any information about whether Guardsmen had fired their weapons would be in a report by the National Guard.
I was unable to confirm whether or not any National Guardsmen shot a civilian during the riots.
But ultimately, I think what happened here is that Daniel thought he was telling the truth.
And it was Dennis who lied to his brother.
Because telling people that you became racist because you killed a man in a race riot sounds more impressive than the truth.
Which is that he was a glorified bus driver for a week and he hates the sound of people speaking Spanish.
But back on the subject of his own life, Daniel says he doesn't still have the Turner Diaries t-shirt that he wore to that meeting because his lady friend threw it away.
He says her name is Lisa, but he can't give her last name because she's married.
He's told that he can say it off the record, but he does need to provide it to the court.
And then he backtracks.
Actually, there is no Lisa.
Her name is Millie, and she's not married, but she has a boyfriend.
And they are having an affair, actually.
There's no relationship.
She's just a little old lady who lives next door, and sometimes he helps her out with repairs.
Really, she's more like a mother to him.
Now, Millie does exist.
Lisa might exist too, but Millie definitely does.
Because I tracked down the property records for every house on the block the Mahon brothers were living on in 1999. And a woman named Mildred lived three houses down from them.
She was about 20 years their senior back then.
So the like-a-mother comment kind of tracks?
But I don't think she was in his bedroom throwing away his t-shirts.
This isn't a misremembered date or a slip of the tongue.
There's no rational explanation for saying my secret married girlfriend, Lisa, if there is no Lisa and you aren't having an affair and you actually met your elderly neighbor, Mildred, who is like a mother to you.
He also claimed that he'd never even read the Turner Diaries before he wore that shirt to work in 1999.
So he couldn't have been sending any kind of message related to the content of the book because he didn't know what the book was about.
And he only wore the shirt that day at all because it was the only clean shirt he could find that morning.
And he swears he had no idea when he got dressed that morning that there would be a meeting that day with management about his pamphlets.
And he certainly didn't know it was Hitler's birthday.
today.
I can't prove that's not true, but it feels untrue in my heart.
It also struck me as odd that a man who claims to have no real knowledge of or involvement in the movement, who never even read the book and doesn't even really know what National Alliance is, consistently refers to William Luther Pierce as Dr. Pierce.
Now that's technically correct.
He had a PhD.
He was a physicist.
And I often notice that I do the same thing.
I call him Dr. Pierce.
And that's because most of the material I consume about him was written by his acolytes.
Those are the people who call him Dr. Pierce.
But Daniel says he never met Dr. Pierce, but his brother did once, sometime in the mid-80s.
And if that's true, that means Dennis Mahon had contact with William Luther Pierce during his underground years, the years he claims he was conducting a series of bombings.
There were more than a few times during that nine-hour deposition that his mask slips a little.
He tries to maintain this righteous indignation at the implication that he knows anything about the world his brother lives in.
You know, he loves his brother, but they don't share the same views.
He doesn't know anything about that stuff.
But when the attorney says that Dennis used to be a grand wizard in the Klan, Daniel's quick to correct him.
It's an imperial wizard, not a grand wizard.
And when he's asked about the people he chose to feature on his Caucasian aviators pamphlet, he corrects the record and says, actually, they aren't all white, because Aline Dutreux is, quote, mixed Mediterranean and French.
She's not what you would call Aryan or a totally white person.
I tried to track down this woman's genealogy.
She appears to be thoroughly Flemish, so I don't know what he's talking about here.
But regardless of the possible Mediterranean blood, that is a level of race science that just isn't going to come out of the mouth of a normal person.
Daniel's lawsuit bounced around the courts for five years.
It was dismissed in 2001, just six months after they filed it.
So they appealed to the Tenth Circuit, and it was dismissed again.
A later decision partially reversed the dismissal in 2003, and so it was remanded back to the lower court judge, who again dismissed the case in 2004. So they filed a second appeal in 2004, and And so in the months between this deposition in late 2003 and when they filed the second appeal in 2004, that's the time period during which Dennis Mahon is building a bomb and mailing it to the diversity office in Scottsdale, Arizona.
And by the time the case was finally dismissed for good in 2005, the Mahon brothers were already very close friends with the ATF informant who'd been assigned to get them to confess to the bombing.
When Daniel filed for bankruptcy in 2006, his petition shows he was still working as an aircraft mechanic, but he seemed to be having trouble keeping a job for very long because he lists five different employers from 2004 to 2006. I don't know why I had it in my head that this was going to be a quick, easy episode to shake off the holiday haze.
I thought I'd be in and out, summarizing a silly little lawsuit.
But even my side stories have side stories, and I spent way too long reading white power magazines from the 90s.
I'll have to save some of the odd tidbits that I passed over for another time.
It turns out the tangent I had to break out into its own episode has tangents that might need their own episodes.
Daniel Mahon's attorney, Robert Frazier, was disbarred in 2008. He was allowed to resign from the bar during an ongoing investigation into several grievances.
Two of them were pretty standard.
He accepted payment from clients and then failed to render any services.
Unethical, but not crazy.
The third one was kind of troubling.
He was representing a mother in a child abuse case, and he concealed the fact that he was, at the time, living in his client's home, which made him a material witness to the alleged child abuse.
He was never charged with perjury, but the judge in that case pretty unequivocally stated on the record that Frasier perjured himself when he was asked directly about this.
I know it's a little different in every jurisdiction, but I was surprised that Frasier was only disbarred in 2008.
Because by then he had three convictions for domestic violence, one for simple assault, he served time for contempt after walking out of a hearing during a paternity lawsuit, and he was convicted of a felony for registering to vote immediately after being convicted of felony domestic violence.
Most states would have had his bar card after the first felony.
Surely after the second one, right?
And the timeline on this is kind of incredible.
Frazier showed up to oral argument at the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals in Daniel's case just days after bonding out of the Tulsa County Jail for beating his wife.
I'd also sketched out a section in my notes to talk about a lawsuit that this story really reminded me of.
A much more recent one.
But I'm already running way too long and I'll have to save that 2002 lawsuit filed by an aircraft mechanic who said United Airlines fired him for being white.
For another time.
Not to spoil it, but he also did not get fired for being white.
It had a lot more to do with his habit of referring to a black co-worker using the N-word.
So he didn't win that lawsuit, obviously.
And his appeal ended up getting dismissed because the white supremacist lawyer he hired forgot to file it.
Now, in his defense, he was very busy at the time.
He had just been charged with a felony.
And unlike Robert Frazier, he practices law in a state that does disbar attorneys after their first felony.
But funny enough, he doesn't seem to have reported that to the Bar Association yet.
But again, a story for another day.
Because that one's not over yet.
And as for those Turner Diaries t-shirts, I'm sure hundreds of people bought one out of Nazi magazines or off a table at a gun show.
They sold them for years.
But the only other story I could turn up about a guy getting himself into hot water after wearing one in public was a Navy SEAL. That man has since changed his name and made quite a career for himself as a relationship coach, offering dating advice to his nearly half a million followers who probably have no idea he used to be Matt Hale's webmaster.
After all, that was a long time ago.
Back before Matt Hale went to prison for soliciting the murder of a federal judge.
Weird Little Guys is a production of Cool Zone Media and iHeartRadio.
It's researched, written, and recorded by me, Molly Conger.
Special thanks this week goes to Wikipedia editor Tulsa Politics Fan.
I thought I was losing my mind when I googled the subject of the show and I saw that the record had been updated to reflect my ongoing research.
Our executive producers are Sophie Lichterman and Robert Evans.
The show is edited by the wildly talented Rory Gagan.
The theme music was composed by Brad Dickert.
You can email me at weirdlittleguyspodcast at gmail.com.
I will definitely read it, but I won't answer it.
It's nothing personal.
You can exchange conspiracy theories about the show with other listeners on the Weird Little Guys subreddit.
Just don't post anything that's going to make you one of my weird little guys.
Just don't post anything that's going to make you one of my weird little guys.
Havregryn til venstre, makaroner til høyre.
Nå er det enkelt å lage plass til alt det du liker best.
Få orden i kjøkken og skap med vår matoppevaring.
Welcome to the Criminalia podcast.
I'm Maria Tremarki.
And I'm Holly Frey.
Together, we invite you into the dark and winding corridors of historical true crime.
Each season, we explore a new theme, from poisoners to art thieves.
We uncover the secrets of history's most interesting figures, from legal injustices to body snatching.
And tune in at the end of each episode as we indulge in cocktails and mocktails inspired by each story.
Listen to Criminalia on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, I'm Dani Shapiro, host of the hit podcast, Family Secrets.
How would you feel if when you met your biological father for the first time, he didn't even say hello?
And what if your past itself was a secret, and the time had suddenly come to share that past with your child?
These are just a few of the powerful and profound questions we'll be asking on our 11th season of Family Secrets.
Listen to season 11 of Family Secrets on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, listeners.
I'm Sloane Glass, the host of American Homicide, a podcast where we take you across the country to investigate some of America's deadliest crimes.
We'll explore how these murders are shaped by their unique landscapes and, in turn, how these tragedies have shaped the fabric of these American communities forever.
And you can get access to all episodes of American Homicide 100% ad-free and one week early through the iHeart True Crime Plus subscription, available exclusively on Apple Podcasts.
So don't wait.
Head to Apple Podcasts, search for iHeart True Crime Plus, and subscribe today.
