The Unsolved Murder of Leon Laureles Part 1: Arlene's Journey

Welcome to the first episode of "Box in the Basement," a true crime podcast dedicated to shedding light on cold cases and unsolved murders. In this heartfelt episode, host Arlene delves into the tragic story of her uncle, Leon Laureles, whose life was cruelly taken in an execution-style murder outside Brownwood, Texas, in 1996. This poignant tale is not just about an unsolved crime; it's a journey through grief, injustice, and the relentless pursuit of closure.

Arlene's narrative explores the complexities of Leon's case, a potential hate crime lost in a system overwhelmed with over 20,000 unsolved homicides. Her personal connection to Leon adds a deeply emotional layer to the story, as she recounts the life-changing phone call that announced his death and her subsequent struggles with loss and injustice.

 Arlene confronts the challenges faced by victims' families, from the frustrating lack of progress by law enforcement to the heart-wrenching moments at the funeral. Her determination to seek justice for Leon and other forgotten victims is palpable, as she calls for action under the Homicide Victims' Families Rights Act and the need for legal support to re-examine cold cases.

"Box in the Basement" is more than a podcast; it's a call to remember those lost to unsolved crimes and to fight for the justice they deserve and a call to take action for the hundreds of thousands of boxes in law enforcement basements around the US . Join us as we explore the shadows of Brownwood's past and strive to bring light to these dark mysteries. For updates, to donate, or to submit tips, visit our website at justiceforleon.com.

Tags: #TrueCrime #UnsolvedMurder #ColdCase #JusticeForLeon #MurderMystery #InvestigativePodcast #HomicideVictims #ColdCaseInvestigation #TrueCrimeCommunity  #BrownwoodTexas #CrimeStory #PodcastSeries #HateCrime #VictimsRights

Support Box in the Basement Victims

• Leon Laurales: Website & GoFundMe
• Amanda Goodman: Justice for Sissy Facebook Page
• Jennifer Sue Delgado Memorial Foundation

Transcript

0:08

Outro Hello and welcome to the box in the basement podcast. My name is Arlene. And I'll be your host on this podcast journey. I am the niece of Leon. Lorella this. Who was shot execution style at age 30. On May 10th, 1996 outside of Brownwood, Texas. And whose murder has never been solved. Leon story is unfortunately not an uncommon one. In this state. As we currently have over 20,000 unsolved homicides in the system. Which accounts for nearly 8% of the unsolved murders in the entire United States. Leon's smarter was also very likely a hate crime. Which decreases the chances of it ever being solved even further. A little info about me. My five grandkids are my entire life and heart. I love kids. Traveling baking. Crafting reading. And I am a huge fan of pink and Brandi Carlile. I am a person that has so much empathy for others. That at times it's frustrating not being able to help everyone. That's the reason I'm starting this podcast project. I want to bring attention to cold cases. Especially those involving potential hate crimes. I want the families and friends of the victims to be heard. I want to assist in the pursuit of closure and justice in any way I can. Leon was such a giving person and I strive to be like him. And I hope I make him proud. Leon and I were very close, not just because we were family. But mostly because we were all we had. We didn't have parents that cared if we went to school. Did well. Took us to the doctor. If we were sick. We were never told, I love you or given hugs. There were no bedtime stories. No one asking how school was. No help with homework. They barely spoke to us. I remember my mother rarely acknowledging or speaking to me unless she needed me to do something. Or was mad at me. My father was always working, so we didn't see much of him. And we certainly never spoke about our problems in our family. My siblings and cousins were years younger than me. And Leon siblings were a lot older. So he took care of me. Always. Don't get me wrong. We didn't have an awful childhood. It just wasn't that great. I have my own childhood traumas. The kind that stay with you forever and the kind you can never forget. I'm not sure if Leon had any trauma in his childhood. That I really hope he didn't. Because he had a hard life from the start. What I want to share with you today. Is how one phone call on a single night changed my entire life forever. On May 10th. 1996. My phone rang in the early morning hours. I can't remember the exact time, because what I heard on the phone that night. Was something that I could not comprehend at all. This phone call haunts me to this day. Any time, the phone rings in the middle of the night. I am instantly terrified and dreading the bad news. I'm sure we'll follow. And I can never go back to sleep after that. I get this horrible fear that something is wrong. Someone is hurt. And it is fear field with anxiety that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. That phone call was my cousin saying. Leon is dead. I thought I misunderstood. I must be dreaming. This cannot really be happening because those were words I never thought I'd ever hear. Words that no one expects to hear. All I could get out was what. Before my cousin could repeat herself. I had already dropped the phone yelling. No, no, no. I heard a horrible cry that scared me. It was knee. That's the moment my entire world changed. My entire worldview changed. I lost my faith. For a very long time. And I did not trust anyone. I could not make sense of how this could happen. To the best person I ever had the privilege of knowing. The only person in my life that truly loves me completely. Without limits or judgment. The one person that always protected me. Who took care of me from day one. My biggest struggle was that. And still is 27 years later. Is not knowing why. Why would anyone do this to him? I had never seen him angry, mad. Or yell or have an argument with anyone. He is so kind loving, empathetic, and selfless. So why. Why. The answer to this question will never come. And I didn't know how to deal with that. The pain is so deep that you cannot breathe. Nothing looks or feels the same anymore. I have been sentenced to a lifetime of pain, grief, and trauma. Life keeps going on for everyone else, but not for me. I was stuck in a very dark place. I didn't know how to get out of. And didn't think I'd ever be able to get out of. I couldn't function. I didn't know how to deal with the most extreme pain I had ever felt. My heart was shattered into a million pieces. I could not lessen the terrible heartache. I felt every second. Of every day, not even for a single moment. There was no light, no love nor happiness in my life anymore. And I didn't think there ever would be again. I remember being at the Sheriff's office. I don't remember how I got there. How I knew where to go. How I got dressed or what it did with my kids. I only remember standing outside while it was still dark. With my aunts. My mom. My uncle George and my cousin. None of us could speak. What do you say in that situation? A situation I couldn't fully understand at that point was unfolding. I was in shock. I was praying the entire time hoping that they were wrong and Leon was still alive. All we knew was that Leon was shot. The wait was so long. The not knowing any more details was excruciating. I have never been so terrified, frustrated, or angry in my entire life. Only my uncle. George was allowed to go inside the Sheriff's office to speak to the Texas ranger, Bobby grubs. Who had taken on the case, right from the start. I was never questioned. I've spoken to, or even looked at by law enforcement. But that is another story for another time. I didn't exist. I was invisible. I was devastated, scared, and I felt so alone. Daylight was just breaking. When I heard someone say Leon's death was already in the newspaper. I don't remember who said it? But I heard that person say the newspaper printed that Leon was killed execution style. I instantly got angry. Uh, got in my car. My aunt Sally and my mom went with me to the Brownwood bulletin. I walked in and told the receptionist. I'm Leon's family. And we didn't know any of this information. How dare you print that without talking to anyone? I was yelling, crying. And I saw everyone looking at me strangely. Then my aunt took my arm to get me out of there. I went out and found a newspaper box outside the doors. Uh, frantically searched for change. I don't remember someone gave me change or if I found some in my purse. But I opened the door and grabbed several copies of the newspaper. And sat in the passenger seat of my car to read it. I heard my mom and aunt saying I didn't pay for all of the copies I took and I needed to pay for them. I don't care. I yelled. I was so angry, hurt. Confused. And devastated that couldn't even read the words in front of me. I just stared at the photo on the front page. I couldn't make sense of anything at that point. But I remember this happening. As if it happened yesterday. At times it does feel like it just happened. And I am on this endless loop, reliving this nightmare every day for the rest of my life. I remember. Crying and feeling the pain that there are no words to describe. It heartache that will never go away. A pain that never heals. The mind is a remarkable thing. My mind was trying to protect me. The pain was just too much. And because of that, There were so much, I cannot remember. I don't remember the funeral. Who was there? What I did during that time. I've seen pictures of myself and my sons at the funeral. And I have no recollection of how we got there. But what I do remember is being at the funeral home when it was time to spend time with Leon before his burial. I was there with my uncle George. Uncle Frank. And Sally. At Lilly. And my mom. We were around his coffin. George told us that the funeral director. And ranger grubs told him we should not view Leon face. Because it was swollen from ants where his head landed in an ant bed. My mom said to me, don't look at him. You don't want to remember him like this. I put my hands on his chest and cried. I remember his hand being so cold. I still was having a hard time comprehending. What was happening? I wanted to see him one last time. But I also didn't want to remember him any different than the sweet face I had always seen. The only other thing I remember about that day is holding onto his casket at the grave side. I didn't want to leave him alone. I felt so much guilt for not being there for him. I could feel his fear. Of being hurt and alone. And my heart and mind just couldn't take it. I just kept saying I can't leave him. In between sobs over and over and over. Everyone had walked away. I was just, it was just me holding on tightly and not wanting to leave him. My mom walked out with my dad and she told my dad to get me. He put his hands on my arms. Trying to pull me away. But I just couldn't leave. I felt so much guilt that he was alone when this was happening. And I couldn't bear to let him feel alone again. My dad had to pry my hands off the casket. Again, the pain was too much for me. And I don't remember what I did after that. I don't remember anyone around or what happened the rest of the day. Or the next day. The next few weeks were a complete blur because I was lost. I felt dead inside. It took everything in me just to get up. Get dressed, go to work. And feed my kids. It was incredibly hard to do everyday basic things. Every single day before work. After work. At night, I would lock myself in my bathroom and cry. As quietly as I could. So my kids could not hear me. I didn't think the heartache would ever leave me. And I was right. It hasn't. I didn't eat. Didn't sleep. I didn't do anything more than what was required of me for a long time. Life was going on around me. And I hated it because I felt that it was so wrong for anyone to live on as if everything was normal. When it wasn't in my world. Other things I remember. In the weeks after. A female news reporter came to my home to interview George. My aunt Sally and my mom were there also. I remember where everyone sat. I remember being frustrated that I wasn't asked anything at all. I remember George was being so shy and timid. And not nearly as angry as I thought he should be. I was hurt and I wanted everyone to know that. I wanted everyone to know how special Leon was to us. The world needed to know unfair and unjust. It was that the murderers could just be walking around free to live their lives. But Leon wasn't. The reporter never asked the rest of us a single thing. Nor does she speak to us directly? It confuses me to this day to understand how a journalist could come into my home. And not be interested in anything I had to say. Or any information that I may have had. I remember a day, George came to my house to discuss hiring API. He told me that the Texas ranger I mentioned earlier, grubs. Was not doing much of an investigation and Leon didn't seem to be a priority at all. I didn't learn until years later, why he felt this way. He didn't go into detail. But now I understand what the problem was with grubs. It was the good old boys network. The Texas Rangers have days gone by. The dark history of corruption and crudeness still present in day to day operations. George found a private investigator named William deer from Dallas, Texas. Who came highly recommended. It would cost us$4,000. We would split it. My mom and aunt Lily didn't have money. So I paid their part, which was nearly my entire savings. I never met Mr. Deer. And he wasn't in town very long at all. Next thing I know. George told me William deer was threatened. So he left town without getting any real answers. The only thing George said to me is the law enforcement was corrupt. And William deer feared for his life. That was all I knew of that situation. I now have more details, but at the time, What George told me was all the information I had. Here's where I'd like to apologize to William dear. For 27 years, I have thought that he never provided any information from his short investigation. Well, I was wrong. He did. And I will discuss some of the findings in his brief investigation in a future episode. My family and I put our trust in law enforcement. In the system. Put our faith in God that he would not let the person or persons that were responsible for doing this to Leon to keep walking free. We prayed and prayed and prayed alone. Together, always praying. George. And I would read the Bible every Sunday. Prayed some more. No answers came. No prayers were answered. Being brought up in a very small conservative town and Catholic. We didn't feel we could confront. Or question law enforcement. I was so naive and shy. I had no clue what to do or ask. This is something no one prepares you for. And how can you make logical decisions when your heart is broken into a million pieces? In your brain is barely functioning. I just went through the days as best I could. The one-year anniversary of his death cane. And law enforcement had made exactly zero progress on Leon's case. I felt just as devastated as I did the day it happened. But the lack of progress and communication made me feel more alone than ever. I held a vigil at the site on the first anniversary of his death. I had a preacher say some prayers. We lit our candles. Cried. Shared memories with each other. But honestly, I don't remember much else because I couldn't stop crying. Couldn't hold it together. I did yearly vigils for awhile. But eventually. I quit since very few family members attended. I could always count on my cousin Selena to be there at every Memorial, though. Years past, and nothing seemed to be happening in the investigation. It just felt too frustrating and it gutted me every year. I would ask the newspaper to do articles about the anniversary. To see if someone would come forward. But no one ever did. And the newspapers eventually stopped being interested in the story. Since there were no leads or even any theories be. You shared with the public. It got harder and harder to live in Brownwood. And I rarely left the house. The pain just consumed me. It was endless. Eventually I moved away and I tried to move on. To start over, rebuild something, anything to get away from the dark cloud hung over me constantly. The pain. I am here to tell you. That time does not heal all wounds because the pain never goes away. Time nor distance heals the heart of this type of pain. But when you move away, it's no longer constantly staring you in the face. So you can go about life a little more each day. There will be times when you're actually having fun. Celebrating. Living life. And then the guilt hits you out of nowhere. I can't be having fun because Leon is not here to have fun with me or enjoy his life. So how dare I be enjoying anything? To this day, that guilt creeps in when you least expect it. It could be a song, Leon light celebrity. He admired. A gesture. Someone makes like he did. His sweet smile. The enjoyment that fills him when he was cooking or listening to music and spending time with his family. Holidays are never the same. Mother's day no longer has the scene. Meaning. In 2009. I moved back to the area to be close to my first granddaughter. The thought of Leon being forgotten and not a single ounce of progress in the last 12 years. May the devastation all come back in full force. I was constantly thinking about Leon. What happened? And why no answers have come. So. I started doing yearly vigils again. I did foyer request. Reached out to the sheriff. The da. The judge. Requesting the autopsy report again and again. I of course didn't get any common courtesy. Answers. Or even a partial report. Instead. I received disrespect. Lies or no answers at all. After a few more years of that treatment, I knew I needed to try different approach. I took to writing to podcasters and asking for help. In bringing awareness to Leon and his case. Surprisingly. They were all so very kind, compassionate and helped me in so many ways. I will always be eternally grateful to all of them. I was also able to obtain a grant to have a billboard go up in Brownwood for a whole year. I participated in two news articles. I had Leon's case featured in an uncovered. Project cold case and season of justice. I finally started to feel like Leon was starting to receive some attention. I still have a long way to go. But I am not stopping, even though it's incredibly hard, so much at the time. If there's anything positive that came from this situation. It's that I've changed as a person. My empathy for others is so great that my heart aches so much for those going through tough things. Down on their luck. The unhoused. The hungry. The sick. I want to help them all. They all pull at my heart strings. I take on other's pain and put it right next to the pain I have in my heart of losing Leon. I am now field with determination to make sure no one forgets Leon. The beautiful. So with a huge presence. Not to forget that he matters. He deserves justice, just as much as anyone else. He may not fit the criteria of the typical high profile victim. But he deserves justice. Just the same. I will be Leon voiced. I will fight for justice for Leon until my end. I will tell his story for as long as I'm able to. I will not let him be forgotten. I will share his love and kindness to as many as I can. I am also determined to make sure no one forgets about all the other countless victims known and unknown to us. Who have been victims of crimes and their stories buried. Forgotten and lost a time in the stack of other unsolved cases. Their lives had meaning. They loved or were loved by someone. And they mattered. As we remember those who have passed. Let us also remember the lessons they taught us. They have taught us that life is precious and fragile. And that we must embrace those moments. In times of darkness. It is easy to lose hope. It is even in these moments that we miss come together as a community to support one another. To lift each other up. And to shine a light on the darkness. Those of you who are still fighting. We stand with you. You were not alone. We will fight alongside you and we will never give up hope. We will continue to support you to uplift you and to be a source of strength for you. Please help me fight for justice for Leon. If you know anything. Please speak up. For those that have spoken to law enforcement with what they've seen and heard. Thank you for speaking up. What we need now is anyone with evidence to please come forward? Leon's family, friends and members of brown county deserve answers. This podcast has a bigger purpose than Just providing information and the entertainment. The homicide victims, families rights act is a bipartisan bill that was signed into law by Congress in 2021. And we want to see it put into action. This law establishes a systematic process for reviewing case files. Related to cold case murders. The focus is on providing a mechanism for the families and friends of murder victims. To request a formal review of such cases. We need an attorney or teams of attorneys and legal professionals To take on the bold and brave fight against the system around the country. In our case, we need someone to fight for Leon to help not only put fresh eyes on the case. But to get his body zoomed, to search for evidence that was not collected the first time around. We and other families and friends need assistance with getting foyer requests. It blows our minds that so many murders occurred from 1976 to 1997. In Brownwood, Texas under the watch of the same investigators, responsible for handling Leon's case. We're going to look at all the unsolved murders in Brownwood. And maybe even if you solved ones, if it helps uncover what was happening in that era that left so many families devastated. And a community living in fear. If you want to hear more about victim focused. Unsolved cases. And get updates about what we know. Please subscribe, like and share our podcast. Also visit our website. Justice for leon.com to donate to our cause to hire an attorney. Plus you can submit a tip anonymously You can also join our email list to stay current on developments on Leon's case and other cases. We cover as they happen. Thank you so much for listening. Please be kind. Later Gators. Outro