Hush

In an absence of information about the Zuber case, and in reaction to issues around law enforcement in Columbia County, Jennifer Massey - a citizen sleuth and wife of a St Helens Police officer – rises up as the loudest voice of the community on the Sarah Zuber case. Alongside several other community members, Massey starts the Justice for Sarah Zuber Facebook page, using it to push for greater transparency in this case. Eventually, Massey decides to run for mayor of St Helens — the seat of Columbia County — and puts the Sarah Zuber case at the center of her campaign.

OPB Journalists Leah Sottile and Ryan Haas are reluctant to engage in an investigation that slips into true crime pitfalls. The pair attend True Crime 101 at Oregon State University and speak to professor Justin St Germain — whose life has been impacted by violent crime. They learn who typically dictates a true crime story: the police, the community and the media.

In March 2019, in the wooded hills above the rural river town of Rainier, Oregon, 18-year-old Sarah Zuber was found dead 400 feet from her front door. Six years later, her family still has no clue what happened to their daughter.

Hush is an investigative podcast from OPB, uncovering the buried truth about critical stories in the Pacific Northwest. In season 2, Leah Sottile and Ryan Haas investigate the 2019 death of Sarah Zuber, and the ways declining local media, citizen sleuthing and a police department that can’t find answers have led to serious rifts in rural Columbia County, Oregon — as well as the damage done when true crime tropes take over.

Jesse Johnson is free, but what has changed in Oregon? Experts who have closely examined the state’s racist history say very little. A close look at a murder on a train in the 1940s, a lynching in Southern Oregon, and the state’s last executions in the late-90s reveals a straight line to Johnson’s plight. The architect of Oregon’s death penalty says it’s time for the state to chart a new path.

If Jesse Johnson did not kill Harriet Thompson, then who did? It’s a question police and prosecutors rarely - if ever - considered. We take a deep look at three men who all had connections to Thompson and violence in their pasts, including one man who told Salem police detectives in 1998 he “dreamed” of a murder eerily close in circumstances to the killing.

To this day, Det. Mike Quakenbush believes Jesse Johnson is guilty of murder. Even when confronted with significant evidence pointing away from Johnson, Quakenbush said there is no doubt. But what starts as a cordial discussion of DNA evidence and witness interviews at a Salem diner quickly turns into something much more revealing.

Police and prosecutors have always insisted they thoroughly investigated Harriet Thompson’s murder, but some people who did not appear at Jesse Johnson’s trial have insisted for 25 years that they have information that raises new questions. A former state of Oregon employee who was at Thompson’s house the night she died said police only ever wanted to charge Johnson for the murder. And an eye witness who no one – police, prosecutors or defense attorneys – have ever seriously questioned is revealed.

The late 1990s and early 2000s were a time of rapidly evolving forensic science. Jurors at Jesse Johnson’s trial heard a lot about how forensic scientists at the Salem Police and Oregon State Police developed fingerprints of Johnson’s inside Harriet Thompson’s home. But newly revealed documents and DNA testing show those scientists may have been more interested in convicting Johnson than finding a murderer.

Patricia Hubbard lived across the street from Harriet Thompson in 1998, and was the kind of neighbor who doesn’t miss much. She said the white house on Shamrock Drive was known as a “party house.” The night of Thompson’s killing, Hubbard was smoking on her porch after a long shift at the local fruit cannery. When she heard screaming and saw a man come running from the home, she tried to tell the police what she saw. But Hubbard said officers rejected her help twice, including a shocking conversation that changed the course of the Jesse Johnson case.

Salem police in the 1990s began to crack down on drug users. At times, their efforts turned deadly, and regularly targeted people of color in the mostly white city. Fatal police shootings led to the formation of a police oversight board that the head of the police union, Det. Craig Stoelk, opposed. Stoelk’s critics say this time period revealed his personal biases, and raise questions about how he investigated Harriet Thompson’s murder.

After spending six years awaiting trial, a jury in Salem convicted Jesse Johnson in 2004. Prosecutors relied on an alleged confession to the murder of Harriet Thompson that Johnson made to a fellow drug user named Donald “Shorty” Blocker. But the jury did not hear the full story. If they had, they may have had doubts about the police investigators at the heart of the Johnson case: Detectives Craig Stoelk and Mike Quakenbush.

On March 20,1998, police in Salem, Oregon, discovered the body of a 28-year-old Harriet Thompson inside her apartment. Within a week, they arrested Jesse Johnson for murder. Johnson drifted west after a troubled childhood in Arkansas and a stint in prison there. In Salem, he was known around town as a homeless drug user. A random encounter with Thompson the week before she was killed changed Johnson’s life forever.

In the first season, we look at the case of Jesse Lee Johnson, a Black man who lived for 17 years on Oregon’s death row for a crime he says he didn’t commit, and we try to understand why the state tried for so long to kill him.