Jim Freeman — Inside the Unabomber's Cabin | Part 2

Jim Freeman — Inside the Unabomber's Cabin | Part 2

Jim Freeman spent 32 years as an FBI Special Agent, rising to Special Agent in Charge of the Bureau's San Francisco field office. In the final two years of the 17-year hunt for the Unabomber, Freeman took direct control of the UNABOM Task Force. In Part 2, Freeman picks up moments after Ted Kaczynski's arrest outside his remote cabin near Lincoln, Montana. With no electricity and no safe way to enter overnight, investigators waited nearly a full day before executing the search warrant. When they finally got inside, portable generators and an x-ray machine revealed what was hidden there: a typewriter used to type Kaczynski's manifesto, carbon copies of the document itself, and — underneath the cot where he slept — a live, fully assembled bomb. Freeman recounts the physical evidence that made the case airtight, the journals in which Kaczynski described his own motives, and a chilling detail: Kaczynski had addressed one of his undelivered bombs to return to an FBI office, so that whoever opened it would be killed instead. Freeman also reflects candidly on what he sees as a more divided FBI today than the one he served in. This is the story of how physical evidence, not just investigative instinct, closed one of the most notorious domestic terrorism cases in American history — and a firsthand account of what it took, and who it took, to get there. This concludes Heroes Behind the Badge's two-part conversation with Jim Freeman on the Unabomber investigation. If you haven't already, go back and listen to Part 1 for the full story of the 17-year manhunt and Kaczynski's capture. New episodes drop every other Tuesday and Thursday. Subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts. Learn more at citizensbehindthebadge.org.

Jim Freeman - Leading the FBI's Hunt for the Unabomber | Part 1

Jim Freeman spent 32 years as an FBI Special Agent, rising to Special Agent in Charge of the Bureau's San Francisco field office. In the final two years of the 17-year hunt for the Unabomber, Freeman took direct control of the UNABOM Task Force — reporting straight to FBI Director Louis Freeh and Attorney General Janet Reno. This episode centers on the case's most consequential turning point: the decision to publish Ted Kaczynski's 35,000-word manifesto in the New York Times and Washington Post. Freeman walks through the internal FBI debate over whether publishing would help catch a killer or simply give him what he wanted, and the moment Reno and Freeh personally authorized the risk. From there, Freeman recounts how Kaczynski's own brother, David, recognized the language in the manifesto — and how that tip led investigators to a remote cabin outside Lincoln, Montana. What followed was a 40-day covert operation, culminating in Kaczynski's arrest by agents who, until hours before, weren't convinced the reclusive hermit in the woods could really be the man they'd been hunting for nearly two decades. It's a story about a calculated gamble that worked — and about the ordinary caution, doubt, and bureaucracy that almost got in the way of catching one of the most notorious domestic terrorists in American history. Part 1 ends the moment Kaczynski is finally in custody. In Part 2, Freeman takes us inside the cabin itself — and the evidence that sealed the case. New episodes drop every other Tuesday and Thursday. Subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts. Learn more at citizensbehindthebadge.org.

Rick Harcrow — Inside Attica: The Stats, the Families, and the Hidden Cost | Part 2

Rick Harcrow spent 37 years as a correctional officer at Attica Correctional Facility — home of the deadliest prison riot in American history. In Part 2, the conversation goes deeper: from the daily realities of working inside one of America's most dangerous institutions to the political decisions that shaped how officers and their families were treated for decades. Rick opens the episode with a story that sets the tone for everything that follows. Three days into a law library assignment, an inmate told him he planned to murder him when he got the chance. Rick turned around and said: "Nah, that's not gonna happen." That response — measured, unflinching, rooted in experience — defines how he approaches every subject in this conversation. The numbers are hard to hear. Around 300 inmate-on-inmate assaults per year at Attica — nearly one per day — were quietly suppressed by a department more concerned with appearances than accountability. The families of officers killed in the 1971 Attica riot were pressured into signing away their right to sue in exchange for six months of workman's comp. Two decades later, those same inmates received a $12 million settlement while widows were waiting for roof repairs. Rick helped organize the Attica Forgotten Victims group as a union leader and credits Governor George Pataki with ultimately doing right by those families. The conversation covers ground that rarely gets an honest treatment: the debate over reopening Alcatraz and what 40,000 released New York inmates actually means for crime, the Jeffrey Epstein suicide watch and the systemic failures that made a 14-minute window possible, the CO strike that put 10,000 officers on the picket line, and what unprocessed stress quietly does to the men and women who spend careers inside those walls. Rick closes with a warning a psychologist gave him as a rookie — one he credits with saving his life. This is Part 2 of a two-part conversation with Rick Harcrow. Part 1 covers his early years at Attica and the assault that nearly cost him everything in the law library. Both parts are available now.

Rick Harcrow - Inside the Attica Prison Riot: What Really Happened | Part 1

Rick Harcrow spent 37 years as a correctional officer in the New York State prison system — 30 of them at Attica Correctional Facility. He wasn't there on September 9, 1971, when the riot began. But he worked with the men who were. He heard their stories, sat with their families, and spent three decades living in the shadow of the deadliest prison riot in American history. This is what he knows. The Attica Prison Riot lasted four days. When it ended, 43 people were dead — seven of them correctional officers. What's less understood is that 39 of those 43 died not during the riot itself, but during the state's retaking of the facility four days later. Approximately 1,500 rounds were fired into a 100-by-100-yard yard packed with hundreds of people, hostages included. A judge later ruled it excessive force. Rick walks through the conditions that made it inevitable: 2,200 inmates crammed into a prison built for 1,200, one roll of toilet paper a month, and a bureaucracy that refused to hear its own officers. He covers the warning signs — multiple supervisors went to the superintendent weeks before the riot and told him it was coming. He refused to act. On the morning of September 9th, a group of veteran officers called in sick. Everyone knew. The riot started because of a worn-down gate key that opened the wrong lock. When that lock popped, an officer said, "Oh damn, we're in trouble." He was right. Rick also describes what it means to work inside a facility where nearly half the population is serving time for murder or manslaughter — and how that shapes the daily reality of corrections work in ways most people never consider. He talks about CO William Quinn, used as a battering ram by rioting inmates and left to die. About Sergeant Edward Cunningham, who spoke directly to a film crew in the middle yard — warning the governor that people were going to be killed — and was killed days later. About what the four-day standoff looked like from the perspective of the men who worked those walls afterward. In Part 2, Rick Harcrow takes us further: the inmate who looked him in the eye and said he'd be dead before the day was out, the violence the department tried to bury, and what 10,000 corrections officers finally did to force the state to listen. New episodes drop every Tuesday and Thursday. Subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts.

Tom Lange — The OJ Simpson Case: What the Jury Never Heard | Part 2

Tom Lange was the lead homicide detective for the Los Angeles Police Department assigned to the OJ Simpson murder case — one of the most watched criminal trials in American history. In this second part of a two-part conversation, Lange picks up where Part 1 left off, going deeper into the evidence, the decision-making, and the failures that defined the case. The interview opens with OJ's first interview after returning from Chicago. Within 30 seconds, Lange had his read: he was dealing with a sociopath. OJ never asked about his children. He never asked what happened to his wife. Not on the phone from Chicago, and not in the formal interview. Lange also walks through what he found at OJ's Chicago hotel room — thick drinking glasses he personally tested, proving OJ had deliberately staged a cut on his finger before loudly announcing it at the hotel front desk. There were 25 pieces of evidence like this that never made it to trial. The sharpest revelations involve the prosecution. Lange learned — 27 years after the verdict — that limo driver Alan Park had told Marcia Clark he saw OJ standing by the trash cans the night of the murders. Clark never shared that with Lange, her own lead investigator. "She lied to me," he says. "I had more problems with Marcia on direct than I did with Johnny on cross." The episode also covers the Bronco chase from inside the command center: the brass demanding a perp walk, OJ vanishing from Kardashian's house, and Lange on the phone with a man holding a gun to his own head while SWAT was already staged at Rockingham — with orders to shoot if OJ stepped out armed. Lange closes with the clearest account yet of why this case — the most evidence-rich murder case of the century — was lost. The wrong courthouse. Cameras in the courtroom. A prosecution that believed DNA alone would win it. And a jury that was played to instead of persuaded. The trial wasn't about two people who were murdered. "This is all about showtime," Lange says. "It wasn't about two young people who got slaughtered."