In this episode, we’re bringing you the story of Shari Dee Sampson Elwell, a 30-year-old Indigenous woman whose life was stolen far too soon—and whose case remains a powerful reflection of a much larger crisis.

Shari went missing in 1987. For weeks, her loved ones searched, waited, and hoped—until her body was discovered by hunters in a remote, restricted part of the Yakama Reservation near Simcoe Creek in Washington. She had been strangled. Her death became the 13th violent loss of an Indigenous woman on that reservation in just ten years.

But Shari was more than a statistic. She was a mother. A woman who had struggles, yes—but struggles that did not define her worth. Like so many others, she deserved protection. She deserved urgency. She deserved justice.

And the heartbreak didn’t end with her.

Just a few years after Shari’s murder, her father, Donnie Sampson, vanished during a hunting trip. Donnie was a respected community leader—a man serving on the Yakama Tribal Council’s Code of Ethics Committee and reportedly looking into misconduct among tribal leadership. Authorities said he likely got lost in the woods. But his family, especially his son Bruce Sampson, believe something far more sinister happened.

Two devastating tragedies. One family. Still no justice.

In this episode, we’re sharing their story—the pain, the questions, and the resilience that has carried the Sampson family through decades of grief and silence. Because remembering Shari and Donnie isn’t just about looking back. It’s about demanding better now—for them, for their family, and for every Indigenous person whose life has been stolen or silenced.

Say her name. Shari Dee Sampson Elwell.
Because every girl deserves justice.

On this episode of Lost Girls, we’re remembering Carol Hill, a vibrant 20-year-old from Philadelphia who was brutally murdered in Wildwood, New Jersey, in June 1970.

Carol had traveled to the shore for a summer getaway—but instead, her body was found beneath a roller coaster, strangled and left in the sand. Over fifty years later, her killer has never been identified.

She was last seen at the Bolero Bar, speaking with an unknown man. Though there have been leads—none have brought justice.

Carol wasn’t just a victim. She was a daughter, a friend, a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. And she deserves answers.

Say her name. Carol Hill.
Because every girl deserves justice.

She was only twelve.

It was a warm Monday—August 27, 1962—when Marion Brubaker got on her bike and rode into the woods of Coventry Township, Ohio. A place she likely thought was safe. Familiar. Close to home.

But Marion never made it back.

Later that day, a 15-year-old boy stumbled upon something that would change the quiet town forever: Marion’s body. She had been strangled—her life stolen in the most brutal, senseless way imaginable.

Sixty years have passed since that devastating discovery, but Marion’s name is still whispered in the corners of Summit County. A young girl, full of life and promise, silenced far too soon—and for what?

This is not just a cold case. It’s a wound that never healed.

In this episode of Lost Girls, we revisit Marion’s story. Not just the crime, but the community, the investigation, and the enduring impact of her death. We ask the questions that still hang in the air: Who did this? Why? And why, after all these years, has no one been held accountable?

Marion Brubaker was more than a headline. She was a daughter. A classmate. A little girl with dreams—and someone took all of that away.

It’s time to remember her. To say her name out loud. To refuse to let her case fade into history.

This is "Marion’s Ride: The Girl Who Never Came Home."

Welcome to Lost Girls.