Anmelden

The Great Detectives of Old Time Radio| Daily Mystery Dramas· Staffel 17· Folge 305

The Big Story: Too Terrible to be Believed (EP5072)

Dienstag, 29. September 2026 · 32 min

MP3

Shownotes

Today's Mystery: Prince George’s County reporter Arthur Milky becomes suspicious when a young child dies at a nursery home and the medical examiner determines that the boy’s severe head injuries could not have been self-inflicted.

When the woman running the home offers conflicting explanations for the injuries, Milky begins investigating both the child’s death and the operator’s troubling history, determined to uncover evidence strong enough to establish what really happened.

Original Radio Broadcast: January 27, 1954

Originating in New Yor

Cast:
• Lyle Sudrow as Arthur Milky
• Court Benson
• Maurice Wells
• Louis Van Rooten
• Barbara Weeks
• Joan Lorring
• Ted Osborne
Support the show monthly at patreon.greatdetectives.net

Patreon Supporter of the Day:Stuart, Patreon supporter since November 2022

Support the show on a one-time basis at support.greatdetectives.net.

Mail a donation to: Adam Graham, PO Box 15913, Boise, Idaho 83715

Take the listener survey…survey.greatdetectives.net

Give us a call 208-991-4783

Follow us on Instagram at instagram.com/greatdetectives

Become one of ourf riends on Facebook. (facebook.com/radiodetectives)

Follow us on Twitter@radiodetectives (twitter.com/radiodetectives)

Join us again tomorrow for another detective drama from the Golden Age of Radio.

Transkriptvom Podcast bereitgestellt · Zeitmarken springen hin

THE END.

Welcome to the Great Detectives of Old Time Radio. From Boise, Idaho, this is your host, Adam Graham. In a moment, we're going to bring you this week's episode of The Big Story. But first, I want to encourage you, if you're enjoying the podcast, please follow us using your favorite podcast software, and be sure to rate and review the podcast wherever you download it from. And I also want to encourage you to check out our other podcast, and today I'm highlighting The Great Adventurers of Old Time Radio, where we have two great adventure stories that we play every single week featuring Tarzan and Counterspy. Check it out at greatadventures.info or wherever you get your podcasts from. But now, from

January 27th, 1954, here is. Too terrible to be believed.

The Big Story Prince George's County, Maryland. The story as it actually happened. Arthur Mielke's story as he lived it. It was a day in spring, April. And how well you remember. The earth was green again. And you liked your job of county reporter for the Washington Times-Herald.

Because it lets you be here.

Prince George's County, across the district line in Maryland.

You felt good that day, real good. When you came into the.

Local police station, there was nothing to make you recall. But the world was also a place for trouble.

Well, how's business today? Got anything I can use, Sergeant? I don't think so, Art. Quiet, huh? Just this one thing from the hospital. Child was brought in there this morning. Boy, dead on arrival. Can I use your phone, Sergeant? Sure. Checking with the hospital? Yeah, just a few days. New newspaper colors don't miss a trick, do they? Hello, this is Arthur Milky, Times Herald. I understand the child was brought into emergency. A DOA. Yeah, that's right. Who was the doctor on the case? May I speak to him?

Why not? I just want to get the details. Oh, I see. Very well, thank you. What's the matter? The hospital won't release any information. Did I say why?

Yeah.

They've called for the county medical examiner.

Nothing to get excited over. In cases where a patient reaches the hospital already dead, it's a matter of law that the medical examiner has to conduct an autopsy.

As to the cause of death. Still, the voice of the person.

Who spoke to you from the hospital sounded a little strange.

There's only one way to find out, isn't there? You know Dr. Adams, the medical examiner. Go see him.

Well, there was good reason for the hospital calling me in on it. More than just the law. Here, take a look at these pictures.

What are they, Dr.

Adams?

Photographs of the child's head. Well?

I don't believe them. Well, he didn't die from natural causes. Not that he's had injuries.

What did this, doctor? I don't know.

But one thing is certain. These injuries couldn't have been inflicted by the baby himself. There are just too many of them. The actual cause of death was intracranial hemorrhage.

Well, that's the medical cause. But what really happened?

According to the.

Woman who runs the nursery home where the child was living, he'd been striking his head against the bars of the crib.

And that killed him? No, it couldn't have. Not in a hundred years. I don't understand. Can anyone? A baby with injuries such as these? I've never seen it before. Wait a minute, doctor. There's no possible mistake. They weren't self-inflicted?

I told you I'd know. It had to happen in some other way. But this woman said the child did it himself. She did. Yet you say no. The only thing left is she's lying.

Well, it's not my place to make accusations. But I'll tell you one thing.

I'm not closing this case until I find out how this boy died.

You want the answer, too. Oh, how you want it. You'd been told the.

Child had boarded at a nursery home. And 15 minutes later, you're out of your car and walking up to the door.

It's a.

White frame house. Blue shutters. And it needs paint. A lot of it. The sign outside reads Park Hill Nursery Home. Pretty name, isn't it? An invitation to happy hours. But this man who's just.

Opened the door... He doesn't fit in the picture. He doesn't fit in at all.

You, uh, want someone?

Uh, Mrs. Farrell, please.

Who are you?

Out in the milky times, Harold. Mr. Farrell?

I guess you better come in. I'm Mr.

Farrell. Down the hall here. What kind of place is this, anyway? Where are the toys? Where's the sound of the children?

Just a second.

Martha.

Martha, you'd better get up. A man out here wants to see you.

Floyd, I'm resting.

I told you never to bother me while I'm resting.

This man's a reporter.

Times Herald.

What's he want?

Talk to you.

I don't have to talk to no reporter. Don't go away.

Maybe you ought to, Martha. Out there?

Right here in the hall. All right, I'll talk to you.

She'll be right out, mister.

Oh, thanks. Mrs.

Farrell?

I already told the doctors. Baby done it to himself. He's a bad sleeper. Always hurting himself.

The medical examiner says it couldn't have happened that way, Mrs. Farrell. Do you know any other way it might have happened?

Mister, there are a lot of children here. I can't watch every one every second. The boy didn't sleep good.

You really want to know? He fell out of the crib. That's how he got hurt.

You told Dr. Adams he injured himself against the side of his crib.

It was both ways. Wasn't it, Floyd?

Just the way you said, Martha.

You better see to the children, Floyd. Maybe one of them wants something.

All right, Martha.

Floyd don't know about the home. Sort of a handyman. Guess you wasted your time in coming down here, mister.

Have I?

Accidents happen. It's too bad about the boy. I figure people just have to forget about it.

Well, there's one person who won't. There is? Yes. The boy's mother. Mr.

Milky, what else was I going to do? I thought I was doing right. A home where he'd be taken care of while I worked. My husband was gone. There wasn't any money. Who was going to watch out for me and my baby?

I understand, Mrs. Nelson.

He was only there a week.

I'd only known what was going to happen.

No sense blaming yourself.

But it's my fault. Why didn't I check into that place?

Why?

Someone told me about it. I just didn't think. A nursery home. It had to be all right. Anyone who would.

Take care of children, they had to love them.

Yes, Mrs. Nelson. I took him there.

And he cried. Know what that did to me?

Mrs. Farrell said they all cry, but they get used to it there. I didn't want to walk away, but she said it would be all right.

I see.

I went outside on the porch. I could still hear him. She carried him upstairs all the way home. I could hear him crying for me.

Did you go back to see him? Mrs.

Farrell said not to for a while. Let him get used to it, she told me. I called every day.

She said he was doing fine.

Only after it was too late, I went there.

My baby.

He was dead.

Someone who'd want to take care of children.

I thought they'd love them.

It was something few people had stopped to think about. The nursery homes where working mothers.

Had to leave. their children.

And in trying to find out the kind of person Martha Farrell is, her qualifications for running such a home, you come across these facts.

I looked up the law on these homes, Art.

The way it stands now, there's no regulation which can be used to check their fitness for the work. The only thing they have to comply with is the building and sanitation code. Anybody can run a nursery home, no matter who you are.

All right.

This much you know now. Martha Farrell is no person dedicated to the love and care of children. This was strictly business with her. But the big question is still unanswered. What really happened to the child who died?

From seeing Mrs.

Farrell, from talking to her, you've got a good idea, but you're afraid to say it. And yet what Dr. Adams said keeps coming back to you again and again. His injuries couldn't have been inflicted by the baby himself. There are just too many of them. Do you dare say it, Arthur Milky? There's the proof.

Well, you won't get it sitting here in your office.

From the county records, you find out that Martha Farrell once ran nursing homes in different parts of the state.

Why don't you run a story on her now? See what sort of reaction it brings in. Milky speaking. My name is Sims. I read your story about Mrs. Farrell and the boy who died in her place. Yes, sir. She had a nursery. Where's that, Mr. Sims?

Mount Rainier.

Did you know her? Yeah, yeah. She used to come into my drugstore. Moved away, though, when everyone took their kids out of her place. Took them out? On account of all the stories about her. What kind of stories, Mr. Sims? Pretty nasty stuff.

Hard to believe.

They were about her feeding up the children.

You know, many great men have attained the highest office in our land, the presidency of the United States. Can you guess the name of this man? He was born in Kentucky in 1809. When the family moved to Illinois, he began to work as a farm laborer, a salesman, a merchant, and a surveyor.

During a series of debates with Stephen A.

Douglas, he took such a pronounced stand against slavery that he acquired national fame. In 1860, he was elected president and re-elected in 1864. The Civil War began one month after his inauguration and continued through his administration. I'm sure you all know his name by now, but if you don't, here's an important clue. He was shot by John Wilkes Booth at Ford's Theater, Washington, D.C., on April 14, 1865. Yes, he was Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States.

His life is part.

Of your American heritage.

This is Cy Harris returning you to your narrator and the big story of Arthur Mielke as.

He lived it and wrote it. You're sure of it now, aren't you?

No more doubt. The child who died in the nursery home run by Martha Farrell was... And this is the only.

Terrible way to say it. He was beaten to death. Go to the police. Find out what they're waiting for. The evidence is all circumstantial, Art. Oh, I admit it adds up all right, perfectly. But the state's attorney has to have an airtight case.

Sergeant, what else do you need? She had a reputation for mistreating the kids in her other places. And the medical examiner says the child couldn't have killed himself.

Now, it's as plain as day. Sure, but we still have no proof. Are there any witnesses who can testify? What about her husband? Well, maybe, if he saw anything, which I doubt. She leads him around like a poor dumb animal. Well, then what are you going to do then? Just what the law says. Get a real case against Mrs. Farrell.

You don't think she's going to get away with this, do you? I don't know, Sergeant. I don't know.

The police can afford to be patient and cautious. That's their job. But not you, Arthur Mookiee. Have you ever been so angry in your whole life how this thing tears at you? Makes you want to do something. Well, there's one thing you can do. You've got the facts and you've got the place to show them to people.

Write about the death of this child and call it the ugly name it deserves. Call it murder.

Good night, Harry.

See you in the morning.

Mr.

Mielke.

Yes.

Oh, Mr. Farrell.

My wife's over there on the corner, Mr.

Mielke. She'd like to have a few words with you. What about?

You come over and she'll tell you.

All right, Mr.

Mielke? Yeah, yeah, sure. Fine.

Evening, Mr.

Mielke.

Good evening.

You did a bad thing.

Did I?

Frightened that boy was killed.

He was.

They took their.

Children out of my place. All the folks was boarding them. They read your paper and you scared them.

They read the truth, Mrs. Farrell, and the best thing they could have done was to rescue their children as quickly as they could. You've got no right running a nursery home.

The boy hurt himself, I swear to it.

The state's attorney will decide about that. My wife didn't do nothing, Mr.

Mielke.

I can swear to that. I didn't say who killed him, Mr. Farrell.

I only wrote how it happened. Of course you didn't say who did it. Because you don't know, do you? You wrote lies and you can't back him up. No matter what you write, people just aren't going to believe it.

The ones who boarded their children with you did.

But what about all the ones who didn't? You see, Mr. Milky, you're writing about something that no one can ever understand. What human being is going to believe that a woman could try to hurt a baby?

You wrote the thing just as it happened.

People have to.

See it for what it was. She can't go unpunished because it's too terrible to believe.

You'll get letters about this.

Woman and phone calls, too.

And they'll be on your side.

Public opinion will work to bring her to justice.

They'll believe what you wrote. You'll see. Milky speaking. You're the one who wrote the story about the nursery home? That's right.

What are you trying to do to that poor woman?

I think it's a disgrace to try and ruin someone like that. If she did do something wrong, wouldn't the police have arrested her by now?

Why don't you let her alone?

What you've written evidently isn't enough. You have to find out more about Martha Farrell, much more. Enough to convince people that she is responsible for the death of that child. Go back into her life. Find out everything about her that you can.

I've been talking to a lot of people since you phoned this morning, Mr. Mielke. Practically everyone who's come into my drugstore here. I appreciate your help, Mr. Sims. Oh, forget it. I wouldn't have phoned you yesterday if I didn't think this thing was important. Yes, sir. People in Mount Veneer haven't forgotten her, Mr. Mielke. Not by a long shot. Where was the nursery home?

Out on Midlane Road. I wouldn't have kept an animal in there. Well, what I need, Mr. Sims, is something specific. Names of people who complained about the treatment there. The things that happened.

Well, like I said on the phone, it was nine years ago. People have come and gone since then.

Yes, Mr. Sims. Found out one thing, though. What's that? In 1944, a baby died there. A baby died there.

Easy, Arthur, Milky. Take it slow. This could be nothing, just a coincidence.

Or it could be a lot.

Find out the big thing.

How did the baby die? I don't know how it happened. I don't even know the child's name. A fellow in the store told me about it this morning. You say it was in 1944, during the war.

The way I hear it, The whole county was short on ambulances.

What did you use here in Mount Rainier?

The fire department had a rescue squad.

Why are you asking, Mr. Mookie?

Well, if the baby were taken to the hospital, this rescue squad might have carried it.

Possible. And they'd keep records, wouldn't they?

Sort of a trip ticket schedule, where they went and why.

Tell you what, it'd be easy to find out. I'm in the volunteer fire department. We could check down the firehouse. Look at the dust on these papers. I'd better open the window, Mr.

Mielke.

At least they're broken down into years. Here, Mr. Sims, you take this half. Exactly what do you want me to look for? A trip to Mrs.

Farrell's nursery home to answer an emergency ambulance call.

Boy, there's sure a lot of them, but here goes.

Page after page.

Nothing about a nursery home. And as you sit here, going back through the records of a distant year, you begin to wonder, what makes you do this? Why this desperation to avenge the death of a child who was a stranger to you? But in that one question, you have your answer. For what child is really a stranger to any man?

Mr. Mielke, look at this. What is it? Trip to the nursery home to pick up a sick child. Let me see.

9 p.m., arrived at hospital with Ronald Deering, age one year, dead on arrival, cause of death, intracranial hemorrhage. Here's the death certificate on the child, Dr.

Adams. I got it from the Bureau. Intracranial hemorrhage. The same cause of death as for the boy who was brought in here, right? Exactly. Have the police seen this out? Not yet, sir. Well, it's high time they did. Get it to them at once.

But you're not through yet. You want more evidence, and you get it. Two years after the child who died in Mount Rainier, another child had died in still a third nursery home run by Mrs.

Farrell.

The cause of death, intracranial hemorrhage. And in 1945, you find that she was connected with a fourth death. Somehow, these cases have never been followed up.

You know the reason. The one Mrs.

Farrell herself had given you. The disbelief that any human being could cause the death of a baby. But with all this evidence, what are they going to say now?

I've just seen the state's attorney, Art. On what you found, he's decided to order Mrs. Farrell's arrest. The thing that bothers him, though, is... that no one can actually prove that she touched these children. But these three other deaths, Sergeant, that says it all.

Well, we're counting on that, Art. Now it's up to Grand Jury. If they think what you found is enough, they'll bring in an indictment, and she'll go to trial.

They're behind those doors.

The men and women, good and true. What are they going to decide? Will they know the truth? Will they believe This all can't have been done for nothing. They've got to see this woman for what she is. Art! Art Milken!

Hurry.

It's Sergeant Ross. What's he found out? Well, it's all over, Art. What'd they say? Mrs. Farrell's been indicted. Charged as manslaughter. I'm going down to see her. Want to come along?

That what you wanted, didn't you, Mr. Milky? Well, I hope you're happy.

No, Mrs. Farrell, I don't have that kind of feeling at all. Why not?

You were out to get me.

I was out for the truth, nothing else.

Well, why didn't you find it then?

The mothers who've lost their children think I have.

Don't tell me about being a mother. I had my own. I raised him. I raised him proper.

Things were hard and there wasn't any money, but I kept them with me and I took care of them.

Yes, ma'am.

You think I wanted to work these last years I had left?

But, Floyd, you never made a good living. I had to be the one to think of making it for us. So I opened these nursery homes.

You didn't really want those children, did you?

Why should I?

I had my fill of crying and them being hungry and calling you every minute of the day.

I went through it with my own kids. I was finished. I had my share.

Yes.

They weren't my flesh and blood. I should have worried about them. The way I see it, they'd been better off not being born.

But they were, Mrs. Farrell. And you forgot the only thing that really counted. They had a right to live.

The jury found Mrs. Farrell guilty of manslaughter and sentenced her to Maryland Reformatory for Women. As a result of my articles on this case, legislature has enacted new laws governing the state's nursery homes. These regulations have resulted in standards that ensure the finest care for children whose working mothers are forced to board them. Our nursery homes now rank among the finest in the country.

And so ends another big story.

In order to protect the names of people actually involved in tonight's authentic big story, the names of all characters in the dramatization were changed, with the exception of the newspaper reporter.

The Big Story has been a presentation of the United States.

Armed Forces Radio Service.

Welcome back. Well, let's go ahead and get into the show's credits. Our hero was played by Lyle Sudrow. Also in the cast, Court Benson, Maurice Wells, Louis Van Rooten, Barbara Weeks, and Joan Loring, as well as Ted Osborne. This is a fascinating and heartbreaking story. captures this sort of relentless effort for justice as well as to spare other kids and parents through suffering through this sort of situation.

And he had to deal with the fact that at the time, people would have found this sort of thing unthinkable and didn't suspect what really happened. And this story gives us a sense of how we got disabused of some of these notions, as well as the reason for so much of the way that our modern world has regulated what we now call daycares. Now, the stories behind the Big Story website has just a brief detail on this.

The name of the operator was Arlene Kennett. The story occurred in 1953, and she was sentenced to three years in prison for manslaughter, was not charged in any of the other cases. I did find that One quote in there, just to be really thought-provoking, the idea that to a man, no child is just a stranger. To me, it communicates the idea that even if there is no parental responsibility or no real relation, there is this kind of duty to care. if a kid is in trouble or in need, or in this case, deserves some justice. All right, listener comments and feedback now, and we go to Saysoft with a comment regarding the biggest catch. The crash scene was interesting.

The way the guy was yelling about the telephone pole made it sound like the pole just jumped out in front of them. Well, I do think that it can seem like that if you are a driver and you are driving at night and you are driving too fast in an unfamiliar area. And two, I think it's quite possible that the phone poll may have been positioned in a situation that, under those circumstances, made it hard to miss if you were driving, I believe it was twice the speed limit. This is, you know, rural Wisconsin at night when not a lot of people would be driving. So, made sense to me. All right, well, now it's time to thank our Patreon supporter of the day. Thank you so much to Stuart, Patreon supporter since November 2022, currently

supporting the podcast at the showmas level of $ 4 or more per month. Thanks so much for your support, and that will do it for today. If you're enjoying the podcast, please follow us using your favorite podcast software and be sure to rate and review the podcast wherever you download it from. We'll be back next Tuesday with another episode of The Big Story, but join us back here tomorrow for Broadway's My Beat, where.

It's a place to die, huh, Danny? This room, the way it's furnished, no extras, just the necessities. The bed, washstand, chest of drawers, hot plate behind the screen.

You find out who she is? Yeah, Super told me.

Said she answered the room to let sign in his window around noon. Paid a week's rent in advance. Gave her name as Mrs. Ruth Nelson.

Around 55 to 60, I'd say, Danny.

Her hands worked hard.

This dress she's got on, mission salvage type. What could a woman like this do that'd make someone stick a knife in her?

What could... The suitcase in the bureau, Muggerman. You've looked at it? Not yet.

Open it, look in it.

Yeah.

A couple more dresses like the one she has on.

There's some nice underclothes. Tortoise shell comb, hairpins. There's some papers here in one of the pockets.

Hmm.

I'm going to take a look down here. Hmm? Ah, release and discharge from Women's State Prison Farm.

Notice a date here, the time this lady was let out of stare? Yeah, today, this morning, 8 a.m. Hits this room at noon, lives in it a while. Same night, dies in it, gets killed in it. A day she must have marked with a red circle on the calendar.

Uh-huh.

I hope you'll be with us then. In the meantime, send your comments to box13 at greatdetectives.net. Follow us on Twitter at Radio Detectives and check us out on Instagram, instagram.com slash greatdetectives. From Boise, Idaho, this is your host, Adam Graham, signing off.

Anmelden oder registrieren

Jetzt

0:00 / 0:00