Investigations
Chris Hansen, Dateline correspondent
Every once in a while a story finds you. Such is the case with the hour-long investigation we'll bring you on Friday night, May 2.
I think it's one of the most unique and interesting stories we've done this year and it came to us in an equally unique and interesting way. It was a tip from a Texas-based cameraman that got the ball rolling. In the past, Izzy Cardoza had done some work for NBC News and so he felt comfortable calling NBC after he says a so-called producer/reality show host didn't pay him for a project Izzy and his crew shot.
Izzy, as it turned out had kept all the tapes as collateral and when the producer/host never came up with a promised certified check, Izzy and his crew walked off the job with the tapes.
Guess who has the tapes now?
That's right, Dateline. And they not only make for compelling television, they allowed us to track down a group of contestants who say they were duped into believing they were going to appear worldwide on a reality show. The group was told that the winner would get $50,000 and the possibility of a big time modeling contract.
The host/producer was a fellow named Gemase Simmons. He claimed to be a former supermodel, but as our investigation would reveal, that and so many other things he claimed couldn't be confirmed or just weren't true.
As you'll see, Simmons puts the contestants through the kind of grueling physical contests that have become reality show fare, but it's what was going on off-camera that was really bizarre.
We'll show you that, and also what happens when we go looking for Gemase Simmons to ask him what he was really up to.
'Reality Bites' airs May 2, Friday, 9 p.m.
By Josh Mankiewicz, Dateline Correspondent
It's been a long road for Cindy Sommer. Her U.S. Marine husband died in February, 2002, and she just got out of jail last week after being convicted by a jury of his murder. Now here's the hitch: she's innocent. Officially.
Cops and prosecutors will tell you, somewhat derisively, that the jails and prisons are just full of innocent men and women, that everyone behind bars comes armed with a story about how they got jobbed by the system. I don't know how often that's true, but it's certainly true for Cindy Sommer.
Her husband dropped dead on the bedroom floor that awful night, and although Cindy tried to do CPR, Todd Sommer died at only 23. The official cause of death was a heart attack.
A year or so later, Naval investigators (NCIS) were about to close the case when they decided to send Todd's tissue samples to a lab for heavy-metals analysis. That lab test came back showing more than a thousand times the amount of arsenic in Todd Sommer's tissues than should have been there.
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By Chris Hansen, Dateline Correspondent
We’d been hearing complaints from senior citizens and government regulators across the country about the tactics some insurance salesmen are using to sell certain investments to retired folks. I’m a long ways off from retiring, but it’s an important subject to me because my mom’s close to that age and my aunts and uncles are already there. Given the turbulence we’ve seen on Wall Street, it seems like everyone is re-evaluating or repositioning their investments and would like to have their money in a safe place. And that’s what a lot of salesmen are pitching these days.
The investments are called equity-indexed annuities. They may be appropriate for some, but not for everyone. Why are so many people trying to sell these to retired folks? Simple: that’s where the money is. Seniors control more than $15 trillion in today’s economy and for the salesmen, these annuities pay healthy commissions.
Dateline decided to use hidden cameras to find out what salesmen were really saying or not saying to seniors when peddling these investments. We attended some of those “free lunch” seminars put on for potential clients, classes where salesman are taught the tricks of the trade. We wired some houses in communities where a lot of retired people live, so we could see the one-on-one pitch play out in real time.
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By Keith Morrison, Dateline Correspondent
A strange thing has happened in recent years to some of law enforcement's signature tools, those pieces of evidence which have sent countless thousands of men and women to prisons all around the world. The agent of change is, of course, that amazingly accurate marker of individuality, DNA.
DNA is now helping police solve crimes which once would have languished in a cold case room forever. But as we have also learned, occasionally to our surprise, DNA has also undone convictions once considered absolutely solid.
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By Sara James, Dateline Correspondent
I only wish I had met Abe Anhang under different circumstances. I only wish I had met his son, Adam, at all.
Abe Anhang is both razor sharp and resolute, a man crackling with integrity and brimming with love for his family. Adam Anhang was also known for his quick wit and equally ready smile, a magnet of a man. The kind of guy who would figure out the puzzle more quickly than you, but happily turn around and show you how he did it -- that uncommon blend of a brilliant mind and a gentle, generous spirit.
Like father, like son.
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By John Block, Dateline Producer
I have been tracking Adam Anhang's case for over a year and a half, along with the rest of the Dateline NBC team. In the course of it, I have come to know, like, and respect Adam's family as well as Adam himself. It may seem strange hearing that I feel as if I know and care about someone who has passed on, but I feel as if I do -- at least a little bit.
I've been introduced to him through his family's recollections as well as those of his many friends. I admire very much the kindness that he showed to them all, as well as many of his other strengths.
The family was initially very wary about telling their story to a television audience. They were, and continue to be, in a lot of pain. And like most of us, they are very private people. I think that they finally agreed to be part of our report because they hope it will somehow lead to more answers.
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By Captain David Thomley, Kershaw County Sheriff’s Department
When I was asked to write this blog I was not sure how to start. You have now seen her story and there is no way for me to relay the sheer terror that Lizzie and her family endured.
I have been in law enforcement for 19 years now. As a young patrol officer, I have dealt with family members being killed in automobile accidents, taking reports for assaults, and arresting suspects for every crime imaginable. I have witnessed firsthand how this affects the lives of the family members of all involved, not to mention the victims.
One of the first lessons I was taught after becoming a criminal investigator is to follow the facts, keep an open mind, and don’t get emotionally involved in the case. Over the years I have done my best to abide by these seemingly simple rules, even though at times it was very difficult.
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By Lt. Eric Tisdale, Kershaw County Sheriff’s Department
Where do you start? Who do you talk to? What assets do you devote to the investigation? Where do I look? What happened? Where was she last seen? What was her state of mind? What are the facts?
Facts dictate much of what we do in law enforcement. Facts are not something you can make or generate. They are to be followed. Facts are something you look for, and that lead you to other facts, which in turn, we hope, lead to the truth. This is true with any investigation.
So, where do you start?
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by Keith Morrison, Dateline NBC correspondent
Eric Volz is a nervous man. Understandably so, too, given the nightmare he has been living through. Has been - is still - living through.
So on the morning we meet for the second time, he is driven the short city block from New York's Today Show studio to Dateline's interview facility. He's accompanied by his mother, step-father, and a young woman who has been acting as a publicist for the family (together, these three generated and kept alive the international pressure that helped Eric win his freedom). All of them greet us warmly, and all, especially Eric, wear the look that says this isn't over.
I'll back up a minute. The first time I met Eric he was the best-known inmate of the Modelo Prison, a huge maximum security institution not far from Managua, Nicaragua.
He'd been sentenced to 30 years, convicted by a Nicaraguan court of murdering his one-time girlfriend, a striking beauty named Doris. The killing was particularly shocking for its extraordinary brutality, and Doris's mother, as well as many people in her town, and one of
Nicaragua's most popular newspapers, appeared determined to ensure Eric was held responsible.
In fact, after one of his court hearings, a local mob chased him through the streets of town, intent on - well, we don't know what. After Eric's parents hired security guards to protect him, rumors circulated in Nicaragua that Eric's people were trying to bribe their way to an acquittal. And, in spite of clear and convincing evidence that Eric was hours away when the crime occurred, he was convicted.
So, to say that Eric was living through a nightmare was, if anything, something of an understatement.
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A Dateline special on adoption in Guatemala airs on NBC Sunday, Jan. 20 at 7pm ET.
By Benita Noel, Dateline Producer
I felt like I was on a roller coaster. The car, which seemed to have no shock absorbency whatsoever, hit the bumps with a resounding thump - over and over again. I had my hand flat up against the roof to brace myself, but it wasn't much help. More than once I went sliding across the seat, as did everyone else in the car.
It was March 22, 2007 and our driver was making his way - much too fast it seemed - along a mostly unpaved, almost comically windy road from Guatemala City to Jalapa, 110 miles away. We'd been warned to avoid drinking too much water or coffee before the trip, and now I knew why.
At least we were all laughing about it. I was with my field producer, Leonor Ayala, and our crew, cameraman Bob Abrahamsen and soundman Randy Foster. We also had our Guatemalan "fixer" in the car (hired to help us with everything from translating, to directions, to letting us know which areas of the city we shouldn't take our cameras into without security) - and a private investigator. We were going to Jalapa to videotape the reunion of two young sisters with their family - nearly 5 months after they'd been kidnapped from their home, abused and almost adopted by unsuspecting families in the U.S.
In many ways, the shoot was a producer's nightmare. We'd all gotten up at the crack of dawn, only to wait an hour for everyone to arrive and get organized, and then we'd driven to a fast-food restaurant where we waited another hour for the police we'd be following. Nobody in Guatemala seems to be in much of a rush to do anything. And there wasn't much of a plan. Nobody seemed sure where the reunion would happen, or even if we'd make it to Jalapa on time. We were winging it.
About 15 minutes outside of Jalapa, there was a series of frenzied phone calls between the private investigator, the police and various people at the Jalapa District Attorney's office. There was chaotic confusion; the reunion had already happened, no, it was happening in two minutes. It was happening on the street, no, it was happening in an office inside the building. Someone had changed their mind - they didn't want us there after all. No, that was a mistake. Go to this corner, no, go that corner.
Bob, our cameraman, got anxious, frantically trying to pull his camera out of the pile of cases we'd jammed into the back of the car. I told him not to worry, the only thing that really mattered that morning was those poor little girls were finally going to see their mother again. Still, we all wanted to witness the moment.
Somehow, our driver managed to pull over in the right place just in time for Bob to point his camera out the window of the car and focus on a darling little 5-year-old girl running full speed down the sidewalk towards a nervous looking woman waiting around the corner. In an instant, all the stressed commotion subsided. We just watched in silence.
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| Galicia family reunited |
Because we'd stayed a good block away, we couldn't hear anything, but I didn't need to, the tears were already spilling down my face. I could see the girls' mother wiping her eyes, her body shaking as she clung to her daughters and stroked their hair. I could see that the 5-year-old, who was clinging to a doll, had buried her head into her mother's leg, the same way my own daughter sometimes does.
Afterwards, we were invited inside the District Attorney's office to meet the family. The two kidnapped girls, 5-year-old Candida, and 9-year-old Claudia, were seated on a bench alongside their mother Clara, and an older brother, Ceasar. I was immediately struck by these children's smiles - they all have the most infectious grins, and they were beaming. They waved at us playfully and giggled uncontrollably when Bob (pictured left) made silly faces at them.
Clara, who is shy and soft spoken, was subdued, but obviously relieved, and immensely grateful. She repeatedly thanked the private investigator, who had been instrumental in getting her daughters returned, as well as us. She was hoping we'd be able to help find her third kidnapped daughter. I wished I could promise her we could.
Pictured: Clara Galicia
When I pulled out my digital camera to take some photos, the children were delighted. I don't speak Spanish but it didn't matter. I showed them how to use it by pointing at the buttons they needed to push, and then let them take turns taking photos. It only took a moment for me to realize how little Candida had survived her traumatic ordeal. She was monopolizing the camera defiantly, bossing her brother and sister around as she took one photo after another. I knew right then that this tough little cookie will be just fine.
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| Photo of Benita Noel and Leonor Ayala taken by Candida |
Late that night, after we'd spent the day with Candida and her family, and we were bouncing our way back along that nightmarish road to Guatemala City, tears fell down my face again. Candida and her siblings are enchanting, joyful children full of curiosity, eagerness and beautiful spirit. Their parents are lovely, gentle people who despite their modest life and financial limitations, provide their children with an abundance of genuine, nurturing love. I cried because I was incensed at the kidnappers who'd so brazenly abused this family. I cried because it made me ache inside to see a mother in such agonizing pain, wondering when, or even if, she'll ever see her third kidnapped daughter again. I cried because I so wished I could help, and yet, had no idea how.
Pictured: Candida, Claudia and Ceasar
UPDATE - Producer Benita Noel responds to comments:
Sadly, I can assure you that these children were indeed kidnapped -- and that they were offered for adoption. When you watch our story on Sunday, you will understand how it happened. By telling the Galicia family's story, we are by no means implying that all adoptions are corrupt. During the course of putting this story together, I was repeatedly touched by the great joy and love that adoptive parents have brought to so many lucky Guatemalan children. I also believe that for the most part, the safeguards that are designed to circumvent crime do work. But, the reality is that unfortunately there are some corrupt operators who have tried to take advantage of the system. I realize that any discussion about corruption in Guatemalan adoptions is extremely difficult for the thousands of parents in this country who have, or are about to, adopt from Guatemala. I am a mother myself, and I completely understand the inclination to protect those adopted children. Nobody wants to be stigmatized - nobody wants other people to point fingers at their children, or worse, say something to their face, suggesting that because there is some corruption, all adoptions must be tainted. While I was researching this story, many people told me that they wanted to speak up about bad experiences with questionable operators in Guatemala, or unscrupulous agencies here in the U.S., but they were too scared. Some were afraid they would never get their children home if they didn't keep quiet, some were afraid of repercussions from their agencies, and many were afraid of being crucified by other adoptive parents for daring to say anything negative about Guatemalan adoptions. Recently, one family who has been through one traumatic ordeal after another in the course of trying to adopt was actually threatened by someone in Guatemala who promised their baby would never come home if our story aired. There is no excuse for that type of manipulative bullying, particularly when you are dealing with innocent children and emotionally vulnerable adoptive parents. That is the reason I believe that whatever the scope may be, corruption needs to be addressed. To this day, the parents of the kidnapped Galicia girls are devastated. The last time I saw Rodolfo Galicia, the father, he was so distraught he had actually been hospitalized because he can barely eat. Clara Galicia actually contemplated suicide before the two girls pictured above were safely returned home.
You can see photos of users' adopted children here, and read their adoption stories here.
Read correspondent Victoria Corderi's blog on the two sides of Guatemalan adoption here.
For more on the positive side of international adoption, see Dateline's story about a Philadelphia family that adopted three sets of twins from Russia.
