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Lanterns, beads, and a sugar-free resolve set the stage before we step into a shadowed Southern church that refuses to be silent. We start light—Mardi Gras memories, Lunar New Year at Disney, and the tug-of-war between king cake cravings and a health plan—then open an anonymous listener submission that pulls the floor out from under our feet.

The story unfolds with cinematic detail: a fully abandoned church that feels paused mid-service, footsteps upstairs that don’t match anyone in the group, and the kind of stillness that turns your breath into a metronome. As our storyteller climbs higher, the anomalies grow sharper—a sudden scratch on the back of the neck when no one is near, a decisive tug on a girl’s leg as she ascends the steps, dead ravens that punctuate long hallways like dark commas. By the time silence starts to ring in the auditorium, one friend is tracking shadow figures at the edges, those flickers you swear are there even when you won’t say it out loud. The final twist lands at home: someone steals a mannequin from the church and is haunted by nightmares until it’s returned.

We talk through the unglamorous rules of urban exploration—don’t split up, don’t take artifacts, know when curiosity crosses into risk—and how belief and skepticism can coexist when your skin is telling you the truth your brain won’t name. Along the way, we fine-tune our sound for a closer, more intimate listen, because stories like these live in quiet details and breath-held pauses. If you’ve ever felt watched in an empty room or argued with yourself at the edge of a dark stairwell, this one will find you.

Got your own tale from a haunted hallway, a back road, or an attic that still clicks after midnight? Share it with us—anonymous is welcome—and help us map the places where memory and mystery meet. Subscribe, leave a review, and send this to a friend who swears they don’t scare easily. Then tell us: what’s your rule number one when the unknown starts calling?

We’re looking for listener submissions — true crime encounters, paranormal experiences, urban legends, or moments you just can't explain.📜 When you submit, please include:

•Your name or an alias. •The type of story you’re sharing. •Your story in your own words. •Where and roughly when it happened (if you’re comfortable sharing). •Whether you’d like identifying details changed. •Confirmation that we can read and record your story on the show. •Submissions can be anonymous. Every story is treated with care.

Send it to: holdmysweetteapodcast@gmail.com

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A body at the bottom of the stairs. A panicked spouse waving down a passing motorcyclist. And a bedside table stocked with tissues, meds, and a tiny bottle that would change everything. We pull apart the strange, meticulous, and deeply unsettling case of Steve and Lana Clayton—where an everyday eye drop became the lever that tipped a “natural death” into a homicide.

We walk through the timeline that didn’t add up: three days of “vertigo,” a nurse who didn’t call 911, a missing phone, and a hard push for immediate cremation with no autopsy. When Steve’s family demanded answers, toxicology delivered them—flagging a compound commonly found in eye drops. From there, the story shifted fast. We revisit the chilling crossbow “accident” two years prior, the alleged isolation after a move to South Carolina, the dispute over Steve’s will, and a confession that started with “I just wanted him to suffer.”

Along the way, we dig into the science of eye drop poisoning: why small doses cause vomiting and diarrhea while larger or sustained ingestion can suppress breathing, slow heart rate, and prove fatal. We also examine how image and credentials can obscure danger, how financial incentives and isolation magnify risk, and why small inconsistencies—like a missing phone—can be the loudest alarm. The legal endgame left many divided: Lana’s plea to voluntary manslaughter and tampering netted 25 years, raising hard questions about premeditation and justice in poisoning cases.

If you’re drawn to cases where forensic toxicology, family intuition, and behavioral red flags collide, this one will grip you. Listen, then tell us: did the sentence fit the crime, and which detail first told you something was wrong? If you found this episode compelling, subscribe, leave a review, and share it with a friend who loves smart, layered true crime.

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We’re looking for listener submissions — true crime encounters, paranormal experiences, urban legends, or moments you just can't explain.

📜 When you submit, please include:
•Your name or an alias
•The type of story you’re sharing
•Your story in your own words
•Where and roughly when it happened (if you’re comfortable sharing)
•Whether you’d like identifying details changed
•Confirmation that we can read and record your story on the show
•Submissions can be anonymous. Every story is treated with care.

Send it to: holdmysweetteapodcast@gmail.com

A quiet August in Lakeview turns into a haunting question mark when 43-year-old Jessica Easterly Durning disappears after telling loved ones she wants to leave home—and is found days later, less than a half mile away, in a spot people insist was already searched. We walk you through the final messages to her sister and friend, the family’s urgent drive to New Orleans, and the ground efforts that blanketed Harrison Avenue before the shocking discovery. Then we sit with the word no family wants to hear from a coroner—undetermined—and unpack what that means in the brutal heat of a Louisiana summer where evidence fades faster than answers arrive.

We look closely at the search narrative, why a body might surface where it “shouldn’t,” and how gaps in early response can echo for years. From pulling phone records and checking neighborhood cameras to establishing tight timelines and preserving scenes, we break down the investigative steps that can still matter and the ones that may have been missed. Along the way, we highlight the steady force of Jessica’s family—organizing social media campaigns, pressing for reclassification, and keeping her story alive across Dateline, People, and true crime podcasts—because persistence is often the only thing that keeps a case from quietly closing.

This conversation isn’t about pointing fingers; it’s about raising the standard. If someone tells you they’re afraid and then goes silent, that’s not a paperwork moment—that’s a siren. We talk safety, advocacy, and the community habits that help: save your doorbell footage, write down what you saw, and ask precise questions with dates attached. If you care about true crime beyond headlines, you’ll find both hard facts and humane context here, anchored in one essential question: What really happened to Jessica?

If this story moved you, follow the show, share it with a friend who cares about justice, and leave a review with the one question you’d ask investigators next—it helps others find the truth we’re still chasing.

SOURCES:

- Dateline NBC – Coverage of Jessica’s Case
https://www.nbcnews.com/dateline

- People Magazine – Reporting on Jessica’s Death
https://people.com

- WWL‑TV New Orleans – Local Coverage
https://www.wwltv.com

- NOLA.com – Investigative Articles
https://www.nola.com

- Justice for Jessica (Family Advocacy Page)
https://www.facebook.com/JusticeForJessicaEasterly (facebook.com in Bing)

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Sweet Tea After Dark:

When Holly was six, that summers minor inconvenience turned into a full-blown paranormal standoff. One long hallway, one forbidden parents bathroom, and one horned silhouette whispering her name in the dark.

This episode walks through a 70s mobile home time capsule — mustard-yellow appliances, shag carpet, brown paneling, and the kind of layout that plays tricks on a kid’s brain. We talk about fear, memory, and why the body believes what the mind tries to explain away. There’s laughter in the “Bladder Olympics,” honesty in the moments we can’t fully explain, and a question that still lingers: was it shadows and sleep, a sibling prank, or something stranger?

Along the way, Holly and Pearl swap stories about seeing faces in wood grain, getting snagged on ridged paneling, and how certain homes accidentally manufacture ghosts. It’s cozy campfire energy in podcast form.

If you’ve ever frozen at a doorway because something felt wrong on the other side, you’ll feel seen here — and maybe a little braver by the end.

🎧 Listen now, subscribe, and share with a friend who still avoids the long hallway after dark.
📬 Got a story of your own? Email us at holdmysweetteapodcast@gmail.com or message us on social media.

We’re looking for listener submissions — true crime encounters, paranormal experiences, urban legends, or moments you just can't explain.

📜 When you submit, please include:
•Your name or an alias
•The type of story you’re sharing
•Your story in your own words
•Where and roughly when it happened (if you’re comfortable sharing)
•Whether you’d like identifying details changed
•Confirmation that we can read and record your story on the show
•Submissions can be anonymous. Every story is treated with care.

Send it to: holdmysweetteapodcast@gmail.com

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A mile-long shortcut at dusk. A familiar routine. And then silence. We unpack the disappearance of 32-year-old Rebecca Reid from Lumberton, Mississippi—a case that begins with a simple walk to meet her father and expands into a thousand-acre search with no trace. We walk through the timeline, the last confirmed sighting on Lee Town Road, and the reported stop of a white SUV that sparked early theories but never delivered proof.

We share what investigators and volunteers did next: horseback teams, ATVs, drones, and repeated sweeps through dense woods that turned up nothing—not even footprints in muddy ground where you’d expect them. That absence raises hard questions. If Rebecca feared the dark and left behind glasses, medication, ID, and keepsakes, why would she leave by choice? If the woods aren’t holding answers, where did the trail truly break? We examine the possibilities, from coercion to acquaintance involvement, and weigh the family’s belief that she would never approach a stranger against scenarios where a weapon or multiple people could force compliance.

There’s also a thread that raised concern but ultimately cooled: a report that a pastor’s wife had access to Rebecca’s bank account. We talk through why detectives pursued it, what the account records do and don’t show, and how financial motives intersect with vulnerability. Layer on the early COVID-19 disruptions—slower interviews, limited canvassing—and you get a case that fought uphill against timing and terrain. Still, these stories often turn on community memory. A detail about a vehicle, a routine that felt off, or a comment recalled years later can be the hinge that opens everything.

Listen for a clear timeline, grounded analysis, and practical ways to help. If you live near Lee Town Road or passed through around January 24, 2020, your recollection might matter more than you think. Share this episode, talk with someone who was there, and if anything clicks, call it in. If this story resonates, subscribe, leave a review, and tell a friend—your voice keeps unsolved cases in the light.

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Sweet Tea After Dark:

Have a story you’ve never told out loud?
For Sweet Tea After Dark, we’re looking for listener submissions — true crime encounters, paranormal experiences, urban legends, or moments you just can't explain.

When you submit, please include:
•Your name or an alias
•The type of story you’re sharing
•Your story in your own words
•Where and roughly when it happened (if you’re comfortable sharing)
•Whether you’d like identifying details changed
•Confirmation that we can read and record your story on the show
•Submissions can be anonymous. Every story is treated with care.

Send it to: holdmysweetteapodcast@gmail.com

Artemus Ogletree:

A young man walks into a grand Kansas City hotel in January 1935, asks for a quiet room on an upper floor, and signs the register with a name that isn’t his. What unfolds behind the door of Room 1046 becomes a century-old riddle: a brutal attack, a vanished wardrobe, a second voice no one can place, and a trail that loops from Missouri to Alabama and whispers of New York. We follow the thin lines of evidence—switchboard notes, hotel logs, autopsy details—and the thicker shadows cast by “Don,” “Louise,” and a stack of typed letters that somehow kept arriving after the victim died.

We unpack how a mother in Birmingham recognized her son from a scar and gave “Roland T. Owen” his true name: Artemis Ogletree, just 17 and hitchhiking toward a bigger life. From there, the case gathers weight: a bouquet of roses signed Love Forever, Louise, an anonymous funeral paid in cash, and a loose thread called Don Kelso that appears in another homicide two years later. Was this organized crime cleaning up a debt, a clandestine relationship hidden by the era’s taboos, or a brush with espionage in a decade thick with coded lives? We map each theory against the record and call out the myths that time has piled on the story.

Along the way, we share the research trail—contemporary newspaper archives, period details about switchboards and hotel protocols, and the forensic oddities of a scene with no weapon but plenty of intent. If true crime, cold cases, and American folklore pull you in, this journey through Room 1046 will stick with you long after the credits. Listen, weigh the clues, and tell us what you see in the negative space between them. If you enjoy the show, follow, rate, and share—and send your theories and strange stories for Sweet Tea After Dark. Your take might be the clue we’ve all been missing.

Sources:

Inside the “Owen Case” File — Kansas City Magazine (police investigation file summary) https://kansascitymag.com/the-owen-case/

The Case of Room 1046 Remains Unsolved 90 Years Later — AETV (modern retrospective) https://www.aetv.com/articles/the-case-of-room-1046-remains-unsolved-90-years-later

Murder of Roland T. Owen in a Kansas City Hotel — Historic Mysteries (case context) https://www.historicmysteries.com/roland-t-owen-murder-room-1046/

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Big changes are brewing, and we’re pouring carefully. We’re launching Sweet Tea After Dark, a companion series built for the stories that land after midnight—paranormal encounters, urban legends, and heavier true accounts that deserve a softer light and a slower pace. To make room, we’re moving to one regular Hold My Sweet Tea episode every Monday, with After Dark arriving every other Thursday. Same hosts, same heart, two different moods.

To set the tone, we head to New Orleans and step into the layered history of Jackson Barracks. Born from the Federal Fortifications Act after the War of 1812, the barracks served as a rally point, a veterans’ hospital, and later a home for the Louisiana National Guard. It touched the legacy of Buffalo Soldiers, passed between state and federal hands, and survived the devastation of Hurricane Katrina only to rise again—brick, wall, and memory restored. Alongside the history comes the hush: reports of nighttime footsteps, slamming doors, faucets running without a source, and apparitions tied to soldiers, veterans, and even Native Americans once held there. We also trace similar accounts from other posts—disconnected phones ringing through the night, heavy corridors that unsettle even the calmest visitor, and photos that reveal what eyes missed.

We’re opening our inbox to your stories—messy, raw, anonymous if you want. Change names, keep the truth. Whether it’s a sleepover dare that went sideways, a sleep paralysis terror that felt too real, an intuition that kept you safe, or a brush with a legend that still follows you, we want to hear it. We’ll share some of our own first, not for shock but to build trust and show the care we bring to every tale.

Subscribe to keep Mondays sweet and let Thursdays get a little shadowed. Send your story to holdmysweetteapodcast@gmail.com or message us on Facebook or Instagram. If this episode sparks something, share it with a friend who loves a good ghost story—or a good gut check—and leave a quick review to help others find our little corner of the night.

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A lonely hearts ad, a quiet farm, and a stack of trunks no one could explain—Belle Gunness turned hope into bait and profit into a habit. We follow her path from Norwegian winters to LaPorte, where insurance money, vanished suitors, and a farmhouse fire fused into one of true crime’s most unsettling legends. The nickname “Lady Bluebeard” wasn’t just headline flair; it captured a methodical pattern of luring men with promises of land and love, then erasing them with chilling efficiency.

We dig into the marriages shadowed by infant deaths and payouts, the mechanics of those newspaper ads, and the neighbors who accepted easy answers while men quietly disappeared. Then comes the inferno of 1908: a headless body, three children, and a set of dentures that may have launched the greatest escape theory of the era. Was that Belle in the ashes, or a decoy sacrificed to clear a path to freedom? Reports placed her in Chicago, Mississippi, even California, turning a closed case into a flickering silhouette that refuses to fade.

Beyond the lurid details lies a tougher conversation about why these stories grip us, and what our fascination costs. We talk psychology and mythmaking, how gender expectations shielded a calculated killer, and how that old lonely hearts ecosystem echoes in today’s romance scams and catfishing schemes. If trust is a currency, Belle showed how easily it can be laundered through grief, charm, and paperwork.

Press play to explore the evidence, the folklore, and the ethics of our curiosity. If this story sticks with you, share it with a friend, leave a review, and tell us your theory: did Belle burn, or did she vanish?

historicmysteries.com/belle-gunness-femme-fatale/

people.com/belle-gunness-lady-bluebeard-indiana-farm-widow-murderer-11827704
legendsofamerica.com/belle-gunness/

blog.newspapers.com/belle-gunness-murders/

flickr.com/photos/shookphotos