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It began with a boy and a dime.
On a quiet Saturday morning in 1928, Los Angeles, a mother handed her nine-year-old son some change and watched him walk down the street to see a movie.
But he would never come back.
And what followed was a nightmare that spiraled beyond comprehension.
One that pulled in corrupt police officers, a grieving parent, a false reunion staged for the press and a string of horrors buried beneath a chicken coop in the California desert.
And at the center of it all was Christine Collins, a woman who simply wanted her son back and instead found herself fighting a system determined to silence her.
This is the story of the boy who wasn't Walter.
Crime, conspiracy, cults, serial killers, and murder.
All things that I love to consume, and I know you do too, you sick twisted beautiful, intellectually minded people.
Rupert didn't like that.
Rupert's in the background right now.
Sorry, buddy.
He's all right.
He's like, what the hell?
Anyway, today is a insane case.
And I actually heard about this case years and years and years ago when I watched a movie called The Changeling with Angelina Jolie.
Highly recommend you watch it.
It is insane heartbreaking, and i'm going to give you the background to this case, which is even more crazy than the movie.
But anyway, without further ado, let's unbuckle our seatbelts, go mach 5 down the highway, slam on the brakes and bust through this windshield into this insane case together.
Christine Ida Collins was a single mother raising her son Walter, in Los Angeles during the roaring 20s.
Born in 1888, Christine was independent and a determined woman, which was something of an anomaly in that era, because women were often expected to be submissive, if you will.
And she would work as a supervisor at a telephone company specifically, and was known for her business-like, no-nonsense demeanor when dealing with men in authority, which is badass bitch mode.
We love that.
But her personal life had been challenging because her ex-husband, Walter Collins Sr, was an ex-convict serving time in the Folsom State Prison on a robbery conviction and for running a prohibition-era speakeasy.
You don't know what a speakeasy is.
It's like a little secret bar.
And the prohibition, it was banned alcohol.
Alcohol was banned, if you didn't know that, in the 20s.
So everybody was going around doing illegal handling of alcohol.
And so they had a lot of these speakeasies, those little underground bars where you could go drink, and it's against the law.
He got caught.
He's in jail.
So Christine is a single mom, basically.
So this just left Christine to provide for her young son Walter, all on her own, which she managed admirably in their middle class home in Lincoln Heights in the Mount Washington area of LA.
And despite the stigma of being a divorced single mother in the 1920s, which was not good to other people, to me I don't really give a shit.
Nobody gives a shit now.
But back then it was like, incredibly looked down on.
She was determined to give her son a normal, happy childhood.
And Los Angeles in the late 1920s was a city of booming growth and rampant corruption, as we will see through this case.
The film industry and agriculture were thriving, but so was organized crime and vice.
The Los Angeles Police Department, the LAPD, under Chief James Two-Gun Davis.
That's a very generic, weird nickname, but okay for a police officer.
But he had earned a notorious reputation for brutality and scandal.
Fantastic.
We always love that in police departments.
Davis had even formed a so-called gun squad in 1926, which only amplified public fears of police lawlessness.
And this was basically a 50-man unit with orders to shoot criminals dead, not alive.
Not good police work, because law can't be done if the criminal's dead.
So by 1928, the LAPD was under intense scrutiny for corruption and incompetence.
And Christine's resolute character would soon bring her into a dramatic confrontation with the city's corrupt police.
So nine-year-old Walter Collins was the center of Christine's world.
Born in September of 1918, Walter was bright and a good natured boy.
And he just enjoyed the simple pleasures of childhood in the 1920s, which was, I don't know, rolling a ball with a stick on the ground or something.
The better times.
But he was known to be quiet and polite and quote a happy lad of 10 summers, as one newspaper later described him.
And though his father was absent because he was a criminal...
Walter had a loving home with Christine, who worked hard to provide for him.
But in the spring of 1928 however, their ordinary life was about to take a nightmarish turn, setting in motion one of Los Angeles' most notorious true crime dramas.
So on Saturday, March 10th 1928, Christine Collins gave Walter a dime and permission to go see a matinee at the local movie theater.
It was just a special treat for the weekend, something he had done lots before.
And a neighbor would actually later report seeing Walter around 5 PM that evening near the corner of Pasadena Avenue and North Avenue 23 in Lincoln Heights, not far from their home.
But when night came and Walter still hadn't returned home, Christine started to grow very anxious.
And after frantically searching the neighborhood and phoning friends, with no luck, she reported her son missing to the LAPD later that night.
And the LAPD's initial response was routine, assuming perhaps the boy had run off or gotten lost.
But Christine knew that something was wrong, because Walter had simply vanished without a trace, and this was very out of character for him.
And within days the Los Angeles Times ran articles about the missing boy and the expansive search was underway.
So police squads and volunteers scoured the streets and vacant lots in Northeast LA.
Even the lake in Lincoln Park was searched for evidence of a body.
And tips and sightings poured in from near and far.
One gas station attendant from Glendale claimed he actually saw the boy wrapped in newspapers, in the back of a car driven by a stranger who was quote a foreign looking couple.
And apparently the couple sped off and evaded capture, leaving behind a terrifying possibility that Walter had actually been abducted.
And other witnesses reported seeing a distressed boy fitting Walter's description in towns up and down California, even as far as San Francisco.
So investigators struggled to sort credible leads from false ones.
And early on, police considered one theory offered by Walter's father, Walter Collins Sr, because he feared that his criminal past had actually caught up with him.
Because Collins Sr had been a trustee in the prison cafeteria who reported on other inmates' wrongdoings, which is insane.
Bad in jail, because if you haven't heard it before, snitches get stitches.
So this would possibly make vengeful enemies behind bars.
And those people behind bars could contact people outside bars and potentially endanger his family.
At least that was his theory.
So he suggested that a former prison mate might have kidnapped Walter as revenge.
So this lead was pursued seriously for a time.
Because could a vendetta against the father explain the son's disappearance?
But nothing seemed to come of that, because with no concrete evidence the revenge kidnapping theory remained speculative.
So throughout the spring and into summer of 1928, Christine lived every parent's worst nightmare, just waiting by the phone, day after day, for any word of her missing child, and public pressure on the LAPD mounted as the case went unsolved.
And the department at this point, as we know, was already stuck in several corruption scandals and was just desperate for a victory, or at least some positive publicity.
It's about to get really bad.
Because unfortunately, this desperation would soon lead the LAPD to make a fateful and shocking blunder.
In this case,
One that would only add to Christine's heartache and scandalize the entire city.
So in August of 1928, a stunning development seemed to offer hope.
Because nearly five months after Walter's disappearance, authorities in DeKalb, Illinois, picked up a runaway boy who claimed to be Walter Collins.
And the boy had given Illinois police a differing name at first, but after hours of questioning he suddenly asserted that he was Walter, the missing boy from Los Angeles.
So skeptical but eager for a breakthrough, the LAPD exchanged letters and photographs with the Illinois authorities.
And on paper, the Midwestern boy did bear resemblance to Walter.
And Christine Collins herself paid for the child's train ticket to California, intensely hoping he might truly be her son.
So the LAPD arranged a highly publicized reunion, which is fucked up like this mom's son has been missing for so long and she's just waiting to have him in her arms again.
And now there's gonna be cameras everywhere surrounding them in this awkward situation.
Also, she doesn't even know if this is actually her son.
Like it's just disgusting behavior.
But whatever, we'll keep going.
But this was intended to look like a celebration of a case solved.
But when Christine met the boy who stepped off the train, her heart sank.
Because, under the gaze of reporters' flashbulbs, she whispered in dismay, quote I do not think that is my son.
Because a nine-year-old boy looked similar to Walter in some ways, but Christine would immediately notice differences, because Christine knew her child and this boy was an imposter.
It had only been a few months.
It's not like it had been years and years.
So for a mother to be like, no, that's not my kid, it shouldn't be questioned for a moment.
However, Captain JJ Jones, the officer in charge of the case, was in no mood to have his big triumph spoiled.
So Jones would urge her to quote, try the boy out for a couple of weeks.
What?
He literally told her you know, probably not your kid, and I don't really care if it is or not, so maybe just try him out.
Let's see if he's a good replacement for your kid.
That's basically what he's saying.
He doesn't care if this is the kid or not.
He just wants this all to be shoved under the rug.
It's just horrifying to think about.
But he would tell Christine to take him home and see if maybe she could have been mistaken.
With all the cameras around and all the police around, reluctantly and in a state of shock, Christine brought the boy home and crowds and cameras looked on.
So for the next, For three weeks, Christine attempted to reconcile herself to the strange situation.
She never stopped gathering evidence to prove what she knew in her heart.
Because this imposter boy was disruptive and inconsistent on details of Walter's life.
And she would say that he didn't feel or sound like her child.
So, just knowing in her heart after these few weeks that this just was not her child, Christine would quietly obtain Walter's dental records and would have friends and teachers examine the boy herself.
You know, shit that the LAPD should have done.
But whatever, you know, just simple investigative work, but whatever.
But the proof of this boy not being Walter Collins was overwhelming.
Because Walter Collins had fillings in his teeth, whereas this boy had none.
So he just got them taken out?
What?
What?
And the neighbors and family friends signed statements affirming that the child was not Walter, because even these people, they aren't even his mother, but they knew that this wasn't Walter.
So, armed with hard evidence, Christine marched back into the Los Angeles police station in late August of 1928 and demanded justice.
And she would confront Captain Jones with the dental charts and affidavits, declaring once again that the boy was an imposter, even after giving him a try for three weeks.
But despite the proof, Captain Jones was just furious and he was unwilling to admit the LAPD's mistake.
And Jones would then harshly dismiss Christine as delusional and ungrateful, which is fantastic, fucking insane.
And he would berate her for humiliating the department after they had quote, found her son.
So embarrassed at the prospect that the LAPD had brought the wrong boy across the country.
Jones insisted Christine was mistaken.
And according to later court testimony, Jones asked her mockingly quote, what are you trying to do?
Make fools out of us all?
I've never wanted to punch a dead guy in the face so bad. is 1928 he's long dead but i jeez like i hope he's rotting in hell what the just horrifying to to think about i can't even imagine being a mother and the lapd bringing a child home that isn't yours and just trying to convince you that it is yours and you're saying it's not it's this is peak gaslighting this is where gaslighting was invented so he accused the distraught mother christine of being either hysterical or scheming and in an outburst jones called christine a liar and even accused her of being a bad mother who was trying to dump her child on the state saying quote you are the most cruel-hearted woman i have ever known again i've never wanted to punch a dead guy in the face so bad in my whole life oh my god So Christine, not taking no for an answer, persisted, but Jones abruptly declared her mentally unstable, saying, quote, And he would say, And with that, Jones invoked a Code 12 interment order, which was a harsh procedure that allowed police to summarily commit individuals who were deemed, quote, difficult or an inconvenience to authorities.
It's just, it's so incredibly sad.
So Christine was carted away against her will to the psychiatric ward at Los Angeles County General Hospital.
And there, in a barred institution cell, the anguished mother was held for 10 days of psychiatric observation.
Essentially the LAPD just not wanting to admit that they were wrong.
So as Christine suffered in the psych ward, the facade of the returned boy was rapidly crumbling.
So, under renewed questioning, now without Christine's presence, the imposter finally broke down and confessed the truth.
The little kid, he was like, yeah, I'm actually not Walter Collins.
They convinced me of that because they just wanted this case to be done with.
And his real name was actually Arthur J. Hutchins, and he was a twerp.
12-year-old drifter from Iowa.
So he wasn't even the same age as Walter.
And Arthur admitted he had seen a resemblance between himself and Walter from Missing Child Flyers and came up with the ruse as a way to get a free trip to Hollywood to meet his favorite cowboy movie star, Tom Mix.
In fact, Arthur actually had a very troubled home life and was fleeing a stern stepmother.
And impersonating Walter was a spur of the moment escape plan that spiraled out of control.
And the police just saw an opportunity to go along with it.
So it's both the kid's fault, but mostly, you know, the adult's fault for just going along with it.
So when news of the confession reached hospital officials, Christine Collins was immediately released, as she should be.
So after more than a week of wrongful incarceration, Christine walked out of County General and she was cleared of any delusions about the boy's identity.
Yet she was still without any answers about her real son's fate.
So at this point the Los Angeles Police Department's deception was exposed and the city's sympathy swung decisively onto Christine's side.
And in the aftermath of this bizarre, imposter saga, public outrage against the LAPD reached a fever pitch and Christine Collins wasted no time speaking out.
So barely free from the hospital, she filed a claim against the city, Davis Jones and the LAPD for false imprisonment.
And the press, which had initially praised the LAPD for finding Walter, now criticized the department for its cruelty and incompetence.
And by the early fall of 1928, civic groups and ordinary citizens were demanding accountability.
So a dramatic hearing was convened at Los Angeles City Hall by the City's Council Welfare Committee to investigate Christine's allegations.
And at least a thousand furious citizens crowded into the October 1928 hearings just with overflow, crowds so large that loudspeakers had to be set up outside City Hall so people could actually listen on the streets.
And on the stand, Christina recounted Captain Jones' abusive words and her ordeal in the psych ward, bringing many of the people in the audience to tears and drawing gasps of disbelief at the department's behavior.
And the sensational Walter Collins case had snowballed into a major scandal for the LAPD.
One that quote, inspired a media frenzy and captivated the Southland.
And did so in the same way a high profile trial like OJ Simpson's would in later decades.
So Christine Collins, a victim now turned accidental heroine, was now at the center of a much larger story about police corruption, abusive authority and a mother's unwavering love for her missing child.
So while Christine was battling the LAPD in Los Angeles, a horrifying parallel story was unfolding on a dusty chicken ranch in Riverside County.
Because, unbeknownst to the public, Walter Collins had likely become one of the victims of a serial child murderer operating in the shadows.
And the perpetrator was Gordon Stewart Northcott, a 21-year-old poultry farmer whose name would soon be etched in infamy.
So Northcott lived with his family on a remote farm in the community of Wineville, which was a rural area just east of LA.
And by 1928, he had embarked on a spree of kidnapping and killing young boys.
And it later emerged that Northcott, sometimes with the assistance of his mother and his teenage nephew, had lured and abducted numerous children to his ranch, where he would unfortunately SA them and ultimately murder them in a gruesome fashion.
And the exact number of Northcott's victims remained unknown, but police were able to confirm at least three murders during his reign of terror.
Because Northcott himself would boast of killing as many as 20 boys, and Northcott's methods were as depraved as they were calculated.
Because, according to later testimony, he had small chicken coops on the ranch that he had repurposed into a private chamber for his victims, for these little children.
And he would hold the captive boys in the coop, sometimes taunting them by leading them into an adjacent incubator room to see chicks hatching.
But this would just be a lie to distract them before he slaughtered them.
And when he was tired of abusing them, Northcott would murder children, often with an ax, and then he would dispose of their bodies.
And he would just become adept at covering up evidence.
Northcott would bury body parts in shallow graves or in pits on the property and douse the remains in quicklime, which was an alkaline agent used to cover up decomposition.
So by early 1928, Northcott had already had blood on his hands.
And on February 2nd 1928, just five weeks before Walter went missing, a headless corpse was found discarded in a ditch in La Puente, east of Los Angeles.
And the victim was a Latino teenage boy who had been shot in the heart with a .22 rifle.
And at the time authorities did not connect the gruesome discovery to any suspect.
But it was later revealed to be one of Northcott's early murders because he had actually killed a Mexican farm worker, later dubbed the Headless Mexican Boy in headlines and dumped the body, then taken the head back to the ranch to destroy it and conceal the victim's identity.
And Northcott's crimes continued on through the spring.
And on May 16th 1928, Nelson Winslow, who was 10, and Louis Winslow, who was 12, disappeared while walking home from a model yacht club meeting.
And they were two young brothers from Pomona, California.
And the Winslow boys' parents received strange letters in their son's handwriting a couple weeks later.
And one letter claimed the boys had run off to Mexico and another bizarrely, said they plan to stay missing as long as we can to become famous.
And these letters, as it turned out, had been dictated by Northcott to mislead the family and delay any search for them, which is so heartbreaking and just horrifying.
And it was just evidence of his cruel psychological manipulations.
And at the time police treated the Winslow brothers as a separate missing persons case, not yet linking it to Walter Collins or the unidentified boy in La Puente.
But in reality, all these mysteries were just threads of the same horrific tapestry centered on the Northcott's Wineville Ranch.
But Gordon Northcott did not act entirely alone, which is even more horrifying.
Because living on the ranch with him was his 15 year old nephew, Sanford Wesley Clark, whom Northcott had brought down from Canada under false pretenses in 1926.
And Sanford was effectively Northcott's prisoner.
And he endured two years of unspeakable things happening to him from Northcott.
Things that he would do to his victims was done to Sanford, besides murdering him, obviously.
And at the hands of his uncle, with no other option.
He was also coerced into assisting in the crimes.
And Northcott also had an unusually close and rather disturbing relationship with his mother, Sarah Louise Northcott.
Sarah was fiercely devoted to her son.
Way too much so.
Fucking weird and creepy lady. to the point of abetting his crimes completely.
And later evidence suggested an incestuous family dynamic and hints that Gordon himself might have been a product of incest or SA within the Northcott family.
It's just some weird shit happened on the Wineville ranch.
So this toxic family environment produced a deadly collaboration a mother and a son covering for each other and a young nephew trapped as a reluctant accomplice.
And by the late summer of 1928 the Wineville crimes were on the verge of exposure, thanks to the courage of the Sanford's family.
Because Sanford's older sister, Jessie Clark, had grown suspicious after not hearing from her brother for months.
And that September Jessie actually traveled from Canada down to Northcott Ranch completely unannounced, to check on Sanford.
And what she would find would alarm her.
She could tell that her uncle had been doing terrible things to Sanford.
And she sensed more terrible things were happening as well.
And during her brief stay, Northcott behaved oddly and even attacked Jesse at one point.
And there are conflicting accounts as to whether Jesse or potentially her mother Winfred, contacted authorities reporting that Sanford Clark was being held captive by the Northcotts and that Northcott had likely harmed other boys.
But regardless of who set the report, the tip finally set law enforcement on Northcott's trail.
So Los Angeles police and immigration authorities coordinated with Riverside County deputies to investigate the isolated Wineville Ranch in mid-September of 1928.
And officers would descend on the Northcott property.
And there they would find a shaken Sanford Clark.
And confronted by investigators, Sanford poured out a confession of what had transpired on the ranch.
And it was horrifying.
Because he would tell authorities that his uncle, Gordon Northcott, had been kidnapping boys, doing nothing, terrible things to them like essay and torturing and eventually killing them with an ax, one by one.
And Sanford, in fear of his own life, had been forced to assist with some of the killings or even disposal of these bodies.
So you had a scared kid not wanting to be hurt, because he's literally watching what happens if he disobeys his uncle.
And he's having to do these horrible things.
I just can't even imagine how this child feels, let alone the victims.
It's just a nightmare, this nightmare ranch.
And, in a matter of fact tone, the traumatized teen, recounted how Northcott would cover the victim's remains in quicklime and bury them around the ranch.
And he also revealed secrets behind the headless body.
Northcott had actually killed that boy too.
And the Mexican boy whose name was potentially Alvin Gauthier, decapitated him to impede identification.
And he would dispose of the skull back at the ranch.
And crucially, Sanford named names.
And he would identify Nelson Winslow, Louis Winslow and Walter Collins as three of the boys Northcott had abducted and murdered.
And the authorities were stunned of the Collins and Winslow case, which they hadn't connected before and had just suddenly converged in this teenager's horrifying testimony.
And Sanford's statements meant that the most dreaded outcome might be true, and that is that Walter Collins was likely dead, murdered at the Wineville Ranch.
And Gordon Northcott himself was nowhere to be found when police arrived.
Just sensing the net closing in.
Northcott actually had fled the ranch with his mother, Sarah the incestuous fucking weirdo, and a manhunt ensued across state lines and into Canada.
And on September 19th of 1928, Royal Canadian Mounted Police actually caught Gordon Northcott and Sarah Louisa, his incestuous mother, in a small town in British Columbia.
And the pair was arrested and held without bond as California sought their extradition.
And the extradition process hit a few bureaucratic snags because paperwork errors delayed their return for several weeks.
But by the end of November 1928 the Northcotts were back in the US and they would go to Riverside County to face justice.
And meanwhile, investigators began the grisly task of searching the Wineville Ranch for evidence.
And what they discovered just confirmed Sanford's account and shocked even veteran officers, because scattered around the chicken coop and the grounds were human bone fragments and body parts mixed in with quicklime and soil.
And allegedly there was 51 parts of human anatomy found.
And in shallow graves beneath the coop, detectives found pieces of blood-soaked mattresses and bits of the boy's clothing and a 22 caliber rifle with spent shells matching the caliber used in that headless boy's murder.
And perhaps most heartbreaking were the personal clues.
Because at the ranch house police recovered a book from the Pomona Public Library that had been checked out by one of the Winslow brothers, as well as the letters the Winslow boys had written to their parents under Northcott's dictation.
And one note in Child's handwriting reassured, quote, don't worry, we are fine.
Which, again, just...
So freaking sad.
Like, it's just horrifying.
It was just another lie forced upon the boys before they were killed.
And there was also physical evidence tentatively linked to Walter Collins, such as boys' clothing that matched Walter's size found on the property.
And authorities later said trace evidence of a boy, who could be Walter, likely fragments of bone or hair was identified among the remains of the chicken coop.
But unfortunately there was no hard enough evidence that could be directly attributed to Walter being actually found.
However, faced with these findings, it was almost undeniable that the Winslow brothers and at least one unidentified Latino boy had all met their end at Northcott's hands.
And back in custody in California, both Gordon and his mother, Sarah, made confessions.
Then retractions, then new confessions, in a dizzying whirl of statements, as each tried to just save themselves, because they're both pieces of shit.
And while jailed in Canada awaiting extradition, Sarah Northcott had impulsively confessed to murdering Walter Collins herself, supposedly to protect Gordon, but she later recanted that story before leaving to Canada, as did Gordon, who had briefly admitted to killing five boys and then withdrew his confession completely.
And after they were extradited and separated in custody, Sarah Louisa Northcott once again confessed in late 1928 and this time formally pleaded guilty to the murder of Walter Collins.
And in a Riverside courtroom on December 31st 1928, Sarah claimed that she, not Gordon, had killed Walter with an ax and insisted her son was innocent.
And many suspected Sarah's confession was a ploy to either cover for Gordon or at least prevent him from getting the death penalty for Walter's murder.
So whether any of Sarah's statements were truthful remains doubtful, but her willingness to do anything to protect her son was on full display.
And the ploy worked to an extent because, by taking responsibility for Walter's death, Sarah removed the possibility of Gordon being tried for that particular murder.
So the judge accepted Sarah Northcott's guilty plea and spared her of any chance of execution.
Because California law at the time did not hang women.
But he would sentence her to life in prison for the murder of Walter Collins.
So Sarah was shipped off to a women's prison in Tehechapi.
Sorry if I said that wrong.
Tehechapi?
I'm really sorry if I'm pronouncing that.
And she would serve 11 years before being paroled in 1940.
And she would die in 1944, still proclaiming her son's innocence.
So, with Sarah Northcott convicted for Walter's killing, prosecutors focused on bringing Gordon Stewart Northcott to trial for other murders.
And in November of 1928 a Riverside County grand jury indicted the 21-year-old Northcott on multiple counts for the murder of the Winslow brothers Lewis and Nelson and the murder of the unidentified Mexican youth from La Puente.
And notably Northcott, was not charged with Walter Collins' murder since his mother had already confessed to that crime and double jeopardy rules complicated adding it to Gordon's case.
But nevertheless Walter's fate loomed heavily over the proceedings and everyone understood that proving Northcott's guilt in the other killings would also mean implicating him morally in Walter's presumed death.
So the stage was set for one of the most sensational murder trials in California history, a trial that Christine Collins would watch intently, seeking both answers about her son and justice for the monstrous crimes that had claimed his life.
So as the Wineville Horror came to light in late 1928, Christine Collins experienced a bittersweet vindication.
Because the discovery of Walter's likely murder at the hands of Gordon Northcott proved that Christine had been right all along in refusing to accept the fake Walter.
And her sanity was never in question.
It was the LAPD's integrity that was just utterly broken.
And public anger towards the Los Angeles Police Department, already high from the imposter debacle, now boiled over with the revelation that, while police had been persecuting Christine, a serial killer had been free to prey on children.
And in the court of public opinion, Christine was not only vindicated but put on a pedestal for her courage and persistence in seeking the truth.
And official responses followed under intense public scrutiny.
And the LAPD deeply embarrassed, as they should be, you fucking idiots.
Not now, just 1920s LAPD.
We're not going to talk about the LAPD right now anyway.
But they just scrambled to discipline those responsible for Christine's mistreatment.
And Captain JJ Jones, who had orchestrated the imposter fiasco and ordered Christine's committal, was suspended from duty pending an investigation.
And the police commission held a hasty hearing, but initially refused to punish Jones, an outcome that only fueled public anger.
I have no words.
So, under mounting pressure, the Los Angeles City Council's Health and Welfare Committee took up the matter.
And after reviewing evidence and hearing Christine's testimony in the packed hearings, the council formally recommended that both Captain Jones and Chief James Davis be removed from their posts, as you should.
And such a move was virtually unprecedented.
It was just a sign of how awful the public found this misconduct.
And publicly, the mayor and city's leaders assured that swift action would be taken to restore trust.
Good luck.
Christine took her fight to the courts as well.
And, as mentioned earlier, she filed a civil lawsuit against Captain Jones of the LAPD for false imprisonment and abuse she had suffered.
In 1929, a superior court jury sided squarely with Christine and she would win a judgment of 10800 in damages against Jones, which was a huge sum at the time.
It was about equivalent to 200000 in today's money, but it was nothing compared to everything she had gone through.
And the judge who ruled in her favor made scathing comments about the police treatments of an innocent mother.
And Christine announced that the award would go to continuing the search for Walter, or at least finding out what had actually happened to him.
Because, even with the confession from Sarah and the little evidence that they found, she still didn't know for sure where her son was, which is shocking, the most heartbreaking part of this whole case.
And also in a final insult towards Christine, Captain Jones refused to pay a dime of the court order damages.
And he ignored the judgment completely and the city did not enforce it.
So at the end of the day, none of it meant anything.
And years later, Christine attempted to collect a judgment against Jones of around $15,000 in 1941.
And again, she had no luck.
So Jones, it seems, never actually paid the penalty for what he'd done.
And by 1941 Jones had retired comfortably, just highlighting the frustrating lack of accountability.
But nevertheless, Christine's case did force meaningful changes, at least.
Because, outraged by the ordeal, California's state legislator passed a new law in 1929 prohibiting police from committing someone to psychiatric facility without a warrant or a hearing.
Which like, yeah, no fucking shit.
And this reform specifically targeted the LAPD's infamous Code 12 practice, ensuring that never again could officers lock a person up in an asylum simply for being an inconvenience.
Which like, again, yeah, no fucking shit, dude.
What the fuck.
So it was just a direct legacy of christine's courage and, in addition, the massive publicity surrounding her case shamed the lapd and contributed to growing push for reform and oversight, and chief james davis, who had been particularly embarrassed by the collins affair, was forced out of his job by 1929 amid broader corruption investigations, though he would stage a comeback and be reappointed as chief just a few years later, in 1933, which is fucking crazy.
And Captain J.J.
Jones was also dismissed for his position for a time.
However, the political winds in Los Angeles shifted in the early 1930s and remarkably, both men eventually just returned to the force.
But such reversals were just a reminder that true reform would be a very long battle.
But still, Christine Collins had struck a mighty blow, and she did humble the shit out of the LAPD in the eyes of the public and spurred tangible legal protections for citizens, which is incredible.
And through it all, Christine never stopped asking the haunting question, where is my son?
And even as courts and committees address the wrong done to her, Christine remained focused on finding out Walter's fate.
But tragically, by the time of the Northcott's trial, all signs pointed to Walter being one of his victims.
And Christine would pay close attention to the legal proceedings related to the Wineville murders, holding onto a sliver of hope that some evidence might confirm Walter's whereabouts or that Northcots himself might have confessed directly to her.
And her quest for the truth would lead her to a dramatic face-to-face encounter with her son's presumed killer, just seeking closure from a man incapable of giving it.
And in early 1929 the eyes of the nation turned to Riverside California, where Gordon Stewart Northcott stood trial for his heinous crimes.
And his trial for murder commenced on January 2nd 1929 in Riverside County's courthouse, and it unfolded like a macabre circus.
But due to the shocking nature of the charges, the presiding judge actually took the unusual step of excluding women from the jury, because it was that bad.
What happened in those chicken coops was absolutely horrifying.
Because women, at this point, were still relatively new to jury pools at the time, as they had only recently gained the right to serve.
So 12 men would be in paneled to decide Northcott's fate.
Though women were allowed to watch from the gallery, and many, many did, driven by morbid curiosity and sympathy for the victims' families.
And the prosecution led by Deputy District Attorney Earl Redwine presented a compelling, if largely circumstantial case.
Because, without intact bodies of the victims, Redwine relied on Sanford Clark's testimony and the forensic fragments from the ranch and Northcott's own inconsistent statements.
So Sanford Clark took to the stand and recounted in devastating detail the abuse he witnessed and endured.
And he would speak of Northcott's sexual perversion with the boys and described how his uncle used an ax in the killings.
And Redwine skillfully painted Northcott as a pathological liar and sadistic fiend, emphasizing his brazen behavior and lack of remorse.
And Northcott, for his part, turned the trial into a spectacle of arrogance and madness, because he had a right to counsel but proceeded to fire or alienate three defense attorneys in succession, ultimately insisting on representing himself, in part because he just loved attention and he was a giant piece of shit.
So in court, he appeared oddly self-assured.
Even one observer noted Northcott was quote as much at home in the courtroom as any attorney, despite having no legal training.
And Northcott would even take the stand in his own defense, effectively questioning and answering himself, which is fucking insane.
And in a bizarre stunt, he also put the prosecutor Redwine on the stand.
And the judge admonished him, but Northcott's antics continued.
And he often smirked and cracked jokes with the court officials during recesses, as if the trial was just a giant game to him.
And throughout the proceedings, Northcott spewed a whirlwind of just contradictions.
And he accused the sheriff deputies of conspiring to kill him and labeled his own family members, including Sanford and his mother, as liars who had been coerced by police.
And at times he even hinted there were more victims beyond those named, but he would never confirm it.
Just a giant monster.
And in an especially startling move, Northcott had his mother, Sarah Northcott, brought from prison to testify in his defense.
And taking the stand in February of 1929, Sarah only deepened the weirdness. of it all.
And she launched into a story about her husband's incest with their daughter and claimed that if true would mean Gordon was both her son and grandson.
Just, just fucked up shit.
I don't know.
And she also shrieked at the prosecutor in a rage at one point, yelling the next time I get married, it won't be to a man like you.
You're going to jail, bitch.
You're going to die in jail.
It'll be all right.
So this testimony and outburst from his mother did nothing to help Gordon's case.
If anything, it underscored the dysfunction of the Northcott family.
And Gordon's father, Cyrus George Northcott, also testified, and he did Gordon no favors either.
Desirous frankly stated that his son had bragged about killing numerous boys and that he had seen the evidence of these crimes, and even admitted he purchased some of the chemicals that were used to destroy the remains.
Just laid it on thick.
You know, I don't know.
He's probably a piece of shit too, but at least you know he did something positive by putting his son behind bars.
But such damning testimonies from Gordon's own parents just left an impression on the jurors.
A very negative impression, that is.
So, after a 27-day trial filled with these dramatic episodes, the case went to the jury on February 8th 1929.
And it took the all-male jury only about two hours of deliberation to reach a verdict, which is not a lot of time.
I think it should have been two minutes, but you know.
Who am I to say?
And Gordon Stewart Northcott would be found guilty on all three counts of murder for the killings of Louis Winslow, Nelson Winslow and the unidentified Mexican youth.
And they did not return a conviction for Walter Collins' murder.
And again, that was since that charge had not been formally included due to Sarah's prior confession.
But nonetheless, in the public mind, Northcott was understood to be responsible for Walter's fate as well.
And the judge promptly sentenced Northcott to death by hanging on February 13th, 1929.
And, as mentioned, Christine Collins was not a direct party in the trial but she paid very close attention.
And she had vested interest in anything Northcott might reveal under oath about her son.
However, Northcott gave her no clear answers in court.
And he either flatly denied killing Walter or avoided the subject altogether.
And the trial would conclude without definitively resolving Walter's fate, just adding to Christine's torment.
And luckily, Northcott's legal appeals failed to save him.
And after 18 months on death row at San Quentin State Prison, the date of execution was set for October 2nd 1930.
And as the hour of reckoning approached, the killer finally lost his nerve.
And when the prison guards came to escort him to the gallows, Northcott collapsed in terror, which
I find awesome and hilarious and I don't care because he's a literal monster.
And I don't know, maybe it's messed up to say that gives me great joy, but it does.
But he would begin screaming and trembling uncontrollably in his cell, just like the boys did in the chicken coops awaiting for him to murder them.
And the once cocky young man's hands shook so badly the guards had to physically drag him out.
And he even asked, will it hurt?
A pitiful, just shit stain of a person.
But they would lead him out step by step to the gallows trap door.
And he requested a blindfold so he wouldn't have to see the noose.
So he would climb those 13 steps to the scaffold and Northcott had to be half carried by the guards.
And he would say, he would plead, quote, please don't make me walk so fast.
Again, just a pitiful thing.
Just scared little waste of oxygen.
And just before the lever was pulled, Northcott requested, quote, a prayer.
Please say a prayer for me.
And those were his last words.
And Gordon Stewart Northcott was hanged by the neck until death at San Quentin and pronounced dead at the age of 23.
And it allegedly took...
13 minutes for him to die by strangulation as the hanging was actually botched.
But I say it was deserved, thus ending the life of the Wineville murderer, but not the mysteries that surrounded him.
And true to form, even in death, Northcott left a maddening trail of questions.
And after execution, San Quentin's warden, Clifton Duffy, searched Northcott's cell.
And there he had actually found a hand-drawn map of Northcott's ranch with coffin-shaped boxes sketched on it and a cryptic note scribbled in the margin saying 'I am not guilty?
If you will look here, you will find what you want'.
It was as if northcott had one last sadistic joke or diversion for the authorities.
Just a map that likely led to nowhere, and indeed subsequent searches based on it turned up nothing definitive.
However, the suggestion of more graves on the property was not something to be taken lightly, and in fact, only six weeks after northcott's execution, a hunter in the desert not far from the ranch stumbled upon the skeletal remains of another young male victim, estimated to be about 12 to 15 years old.
And this boy was never identified, but investigators strongly suspected he too had fallen prey to Northcott.
And the discovery just underscored the likelihood that Northcott's crimes extended beyond the known four victims.
And it also meant that Christine Collins was left with an agonizing sliver of hope, because could it be that Walter was not killed and that some other unknown boy's remains had been misattributed to him?
And one other key figure received a measure of justice, separate from Northcott, which was young Sanford Clark, whose bravery had brought the crimes to light and was not charged with murder in recognition that he had been another of Northcott's victims, himself just forced into complicity.
And instead Sanford was sent to Whittier State School, a juvenile reform institution for a rehabilitation focused sentence.
And he was initially ordered to serve five years.
But Sanford earned the mercy of officials who saw him as just traumatized.
A sentence was commuted to 23 months due to good behavior and the compelling circumstances of coercion.
And in 1931 sanford clark was released and returned to his native saskatchewan, in canada.
And remarkably, sanford went on to live a quiet, productive life and he would die in 1991 at the age of 78, just carrying the burden of wineville with him to the grave.
So with Northcott executed, the legal saga reached its end.
But for Christine Collins, a heartbreaking chapter still remained opened, which was the final truth about Walter.
Because nobody had been positively identified as Walter and Northcott had never clearly admitted to killing him.
And Christine's heart, understandably, was not ready to let go.
She didn't have that confirmation, that solid, non-contradicting evidence.
So Christine Collins was a mother who just refused to give up hope.
Even after Gordon Northcott was condemned and the Wineville murders seemingly solved, Christine continued to search for any other evidence that her son Walter might still be alive, or at least to get a definitive answer about his death.
And her struggle evolved from an immediate rescue mission into a 36-year odyssey of uncertainty.
And during Northcott's incarceration, while he was still alive, Christine attempted to personally confront the killer to extract the truth.
And in late 1928, after Northcott's arrest, Christine secured a meeting with him in jail.
And face to face with the man accused of murdering her child.
Christine directly asked Northcott if he killed Walter.
And Northcott was evasive and bizarre.
And he alternated between denying any knowledge of Walter and making half confessions, only to retract them immediately after.
And after one such jailhouse interview, Christine left convinced that Northcott was just insane, because he contradicted himself so much that he didn't even seem to know what really happened.
Or he was just psychologically torturing her because he obviously took pleasure in that.
But Northcott's madness kind of gave Christine a paradoxical comfort, because if he couldn't clearly remember Walter, maybe that meant that Walter wasn't one of his victims.
And Christine just clung on to that possibility.
And in the final days before Northcott's execution in 1930, Christine made one last effort.
And Northcott, perhaps seeking attention or forgiveness, sent Christine a telegram from prison.
And in it, he claimed he had lied earlier when he denied Walter was among the victims.
And he now promised to tell her the truth, but only if she came in person to hear it.
So it was an unbearable temptation for a grieving mother.
And just hours before Northcott was to hang, Christine traveled to San Quentin and was brought to the condemned man's cell.
And what followed was just a cruel twist.
Because as Christine stood outside the cell, Northcott balked and refused to speak.
And he said, quote, "'I don't want to see you.
I don't want to know anything about it.
I'm innocent.'" just retracting the promise he made in that telegram.
So Northcott's sudden silence left Christine just dumbfounded and heartbroken.
And a contemporary news account described her as quote, outraged by Northcott's conduct but also comforted by it.
Because the killer's continuous ambiguous refusal to account for Walter and his inability to recall specific details like what Walter was wearing or the color of his eyes, allowed Christine to continue believing that maybe her son might not be one of the victims again.
So Northcott went to his death without ever divulging Walter's fate.
And Christine walked away from San Quentin with no closure.
Yet a renewed resolve.
And until undisputed evidence proved Walter dead, she would never stop looking.
And Christine maintained hope for years.
And in 1935 a shocking development made headlines and must have stirred Christine's heart a little bit.
Because that year, just five years after Northcott's execution, a boy in ill health came forward in rural California claiming that he was one of the boys abducted by Gordon Northcott and that he actually escaped from the Wineville chicken coop alive.
And this boy had disappeared around the same time as Walter, and the Winslows and authorities back then speculated that he was one of Northcott's unknown victims.
And if his story was true, it meant Northcott hadn't murdered him and that at least one child survived the murder farm.
So could Walter have been another who somehow escaped Northcott's clutches?
And Christine certainly took notice of the story.
But unfortunately, upon investigation, Sanford Clark refuted the notion that any child ever escaped once taken to the ranch.
And he would say in his testimony that Northcott killed all of his captives.
And the 1935 boy's claim was either a mistake or just a cruel hoax.
But nevertheless, Christine was not prepared to abandon hope.
And the mere idea that a Wineville victim might have survived was enough for her to imagine that Walter too could maybe be out there somewhere, just unable to remember, or was hidden or was waiting to come home.
So as the decades passed, Christine lived a relatively private life in Los Angeles.
Yet she would still quietly continue her quest to find her son.
And it's very likely that she continued to correspond with law enforcement and missing persons organizations whenever rumors of found boys circulated.
And by the 1940s and 50s the Wineville case had faded from national headlines.
But locals remembered Christine as the mother who never gave up.
And Christine would never remarry, and she would just dedicate her life to the faint possibility that Walter might reappear someday.
But tragically, he never would.
And Christine Collins would die on December 8th, 1964, just shy of her 76th birthday.
And to her last day, she never received a definitive proof of Walter's death.
And lacking that closure, she reportedly maintained the belief that Walter might have survived Northcott's horror and was still out there somewhere.
So Christine's unwavering hope and 36-year search stands as a testament to mother's love and refusal to forget.
And though her life ended without the reunion that she longed for, Christine Collins' fight for her son left an unforgettable legacy in Los Angeles history.
And the story of Christine and Walter Collins, intertwined with the Wineville Chicken Coop murders, left a profound legacy on multiple levels.
In the legal policy realm.
The case was a catalyst for reform and LA lawmakers, embarrassed by the Christine Collins affair, instituted new checks on police power, most notably the Christine Collins law, which required due process, a signed warrant or commitment order before a person could be involuntarily held in a psychiatric facility.
And, more broadly, the scandal contributed to ongoing efforts to clean up the LAPD's corruption in the 1930s.
And while true reform took many, many years and additional scandals, Christine's case became a cautionary tale, cited by civil libertarians and police critics, about the dangers of unchecked authority and the importance of accountability.
And for the communities directly touched by the murders, the impact was immediate and very lasting.
And the farming village of Wineville, seeking to disassociate from the infamy of the Northcott crimes, actually took the extraordinary step of changing its name altogether.
In 1930, shortly after Northcott's execution, Wineville officially was renamed to Mira Loma, meaning view of the hills.
And over the decades the Collins-Northcott saga has been the subject of books, articles and dramatic retellings, even a movie.
And in the 1950s the popular radio and TV series Dragnet produced an episode called The Big Imposter, loosely based on the case, recounting a scenario of a child imposter and a determined detective, reflecting the lingering notoriety of the story.
And it wasn't until the 21st century, however, that the case reached a truly worldwide audience.
Because, in 2008, director Clint Eastwood brought Christine's story to the big screen in an acclaimed film called The Changeling.
Which I cannot recommend this movie more.
I watched it, I think, around 2010, 2011.
I've never been so shattered by a film.
And going through this case page by page.
It is a very well done retelling of the story with those possibilities.
The emotion that is invoked in the film is is it's just like it's heart-wrenching.
The performances are very well done.
I'm not, i'm not gonna, i'm not gonna say anymore, but i i just highly recommend you watch the movie.
But forewarning obviously, i kind of skated over the details of the murders.
It is, it is hard to watch but it is a very well done movie.
But screenwriter J Michael Straczynski had painstakingly researched the case, unearthing long-forgotten city archival records and court transcripts, to create a screenplay that closely followed the real events.
And Angelina Jolie's portrayal of Christine Collins introduced millions to the mother's decades-long ordeal.
And the film's haunting depictions of the imposter reunion and psych ward commitment, which was also crazy.
Also glazed over that a little bit because of YouTube things.
But she was treated horribly in those institutions.
And I really appreciate how the movie goes into that as well.
But The Changeling just also shone a light on Gordon Northcott's crimes, with actor Jason Butler Harner playing Northcott, and he does a little bit too good of a job.
I literally I can't even look at him in other movies because of how good he plays a horrible, evil monster.
But again, worth the watch.
And luckily in the movie they kind of imply more than show the worst of the violence, which I also appreciate.
It's not just like a Just a gore fest.
It's very well done.
But the film's release prompted renewed interest in the historical case.
Obviously, here we are.
I mean, I think this is one of the craziest cases I've ever gone into.
And it just revisited the facts and even the actual Chicken Coop ranch site was located by Eastwood and historians
And today the Collins case stands as a somber chapter in Los Angeles history and just a story of a mother's love and resilience against systemic injustice and of heinous crimes that forced a city to confront its own failings.
So it's just a powerful example of wrongful incarceration and police corruption.
And historical societies in Riverside preserve records of the Wineville investigation.
And archival photographs from 1928 show Christine Collins a determined look on her face, unwavering in the pursuit of her son.
And other images show the dusty ranch where investigators dug for evidence and unearthed the truth.
And these visuals preserved in the Los Angeles Public Library and UCLA archives remind us that these were real people and real events, not just a Hollywood drama.
And the cultural memory of the case carries a mix of sorrow and admiration.
Sorrow for the innocent lives lost and the torture that Christine endured, but admiration for Christine's steadfast pursuit of justice and truth.
But in the end, the boy who wasn't Walter, the tragic imposter, became a catalyst that exposed deeper evil and led a broken mother to become an agent of change.
And Christine Collins' story and that of her son endures as a powerful true crime tale of grief gaslighting and a fight for justice.
And that is the end of this video.
Yeah, this case has been sitting in the back of my mind for years and years and years.
And I thought it was an important one to talk about because it just goes over it.
All of these crazy facets of gaslighting and not believing victims and just corruption and systemic failures and persistence of a mother.
It's just a very heartbreaking case.
And I, again, I recommend you look into the case even more yourself or just watch the movie.
I'm usually not one ever, for this dramatized Hollywood movies, but I think they did a really good job of this, way you know, way back in 2008.
But I always read the comments.
So please let me know what other cases you want me to deep dive into.
And I will see a beautiful face in the next video.
Stay safe out there.
Okay, bye.
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