Latest / 3 Crimes That Are Still Unsolved / Episode 32- The Ones Who Called for Help – Then Vanished
Transcript
- Ronan Wolfe: Welcome back to 3 Crimes That Are Still Unsolved – Chilling Cases With No Answers… Yet. I’m Ronan Wolfe. Today’s episode is about those last, desperate attempts to be heard. Phone calls. Texts. 911 dispatches. These are the moments when someone in danger tries to reach out—sometimes successfully, sometimes not. What makes these cases chilling isn’t just the disappearance or the death. It’s that someone knew they needed help… and they didn’t get it. Let’s take a look at three unsettling stories where the call came in, but the answers never did. Ronan Wolfe: Our first story takes place in Michigan in 2008. Twenty-four-year-old Brandon Swanson was driving home late at night after celebrating the end of the college semester with friends. Around 2 a.m., his car slid into a ditch near the town of Taunton. He called his parents, telling them he was fine but needed a ride. They drove to where he said he was—but they couldn’t find him. Ronan Wolfe: Brandon stayed on the phone with his father for over 45 minutes as they tried to pinpoint his location. Then, suddenly, he yelled “Oh, sh*t!”—and the line went dead. His phone remained on for another day, pinging nearby towers, but he was never heard from again. Police later discovered that Brandon had likely misjudged where he was—he was miles away from where he said. Despite search dogs, helicopters, and sonar scans of local waterways, no trace of him has ever been found. Ronan Wolfe: So what did Brandon see or hear in that final moment? Was he attacked? Did he fall? Or was someone else out there that night? His call for help was real. But whatever happened next—no one’s been able to explain it. Ronan Wolfe: Next, we turn to the baffling and horrifying story of Mitrice Richardson. In 2009, Mitrice was arrested by Los Angeles County deputies for not paying a dinner bill and possessing marijuana. She was taken to the Lost Hills sheriff’s station in the Malibu hills, booked, and then—at midnight—released. Alone. No phone. No car. No way home. Ronan Wolfe: Hours later, residents in a nearby neighborhood reported seeing a woman wandering through backyards, behaving strangely. Police were called, but no one responded. Mitrice was never seen alive again. Eleven months later, her naked, mummified remains were discovered in a remote canyon just a few miles from the station. Ronan Wolfe: The questions surrounding this case are endless. Why was she released in the middle of the night, so far from the city, with no way to contact anyone? Why didn’t officers respond to the calls from residents who likely saw her? And how did her body end up in an area that had supposedly already been searched? The sheriff’s department’s handling of the case has been widely criticized, and while Mitrice’s story has inspired reforms in how police handle released detainees, her death remains officially unsolved. Ronan Wolfe: Her family believes she was in a mental health crisis and that her calls for help—both literal and symbolic—were ignored. The silence that followed was deafening. Ronan Wolfe: Our final case is that of Phoenix Coldon, a 23-year-old woman from Missouri who vanished in December 2011. That afternoon, Phoenix was seen leaving her driveway in her black 1998 Chevy Blazer. She didn’t tell her parents where she was going. Hours later, her SUV was found—engine running, door open—in East St. Louis. Keys in the ignition. Purse inside. But Phoenix was gone. Ronan Wolfe: Her mother later discovered that Phoenix had a second cellphone, one she kept hidden. Records showed text messages and calls that didn’t match the life her parents thought she was living. It raised serious questions—was she in trouble? Was she living a double life? Was she running from something—or someone? Ronan Wolfe: A disturbing possibility emerged years later during a televised investigation: some believed Phoenix might have been coerced or trafficked. But despite leads, tips, and a growing digital trail, nothing concrete has ever been found. Her parents never received a final call. But the message was clear—Phoenix left something behind. Something she may not have intended to. Ronan Wolfe: These three stories—Brandon Swanson, Mitrice Richardson, and Phoenix Coldon—are united by a tragic thread: the last chance to reach out. A voice on a line. A girl knocking at doors. A signal that something was terribly wrong. In all three, the help came too late—or didn’t come at all. Ronan Wolfe: It makes you wonder—how many calls for help go unanswered? How many disappearances begin not in silence, but in a cry that no one responds to? When someone calls out from the edge of danger, we like to believe we’ll hear them. That help is on the way. But sometimes, it isn’t. Ronan Wolfe: If you have information about Brandon Swanson’s whereabouts, Mitrice Richardson’s final hours, or the disappearance of Phoenix Coldon, reach out to the appropriate local authorities or the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children. These families still wait. Still hope. Still listen for a voice that might return. Ronan Wolfe: Subscribe to 3 Crimes That Are Still Unsolved – Chilling Cases With No Answers… Yet. Share the episode. Leave a review. And remember: it only takes one person to hear the call—to finally answer it. I’m Ronan Wolfe. Until next time, stay sharp… and stay listening.