Indianapolis Monthly

“Any serious doubts Don might have had about Teri didn’t creep in until after he received her out-of-the-blue breakup text. But the doubts turned to bewilderment six days later, on September 26, when Don’s old girlfriend showed up at his house in Lafayette to check on him, and instead ended up informing him of a devastating turn of events she had seen in the local news.”

One of the hottest podcasts in the country has built a seven-figure business telling stories about true crime. Too bad the tales aren’t its own.

Don Huckstep thought he’d found love. But when his fiancee Teri Deneka vanished after a mysterious text, her disappearance led him, police, and another family down a strange path of discoveries.

Mark Nicholson was convicted of manslaughter, served his time, and became a lawyer. He’s now one of Indianapolis’s top public defenders, defending the city’s poorest citizens.

The author reflects on his experiences attending an all-male college in the early ’90s.

On paper, Joannah Bierzychudek’s new boyfriend—a successful surgeon and world-traveling mountain climber—seemed like Mr. Right. But then he started describing his detailed plans to kill his ex-wife.

How basketball great Larry Bird almost walked away from the game.

A parent’s lessons on living with grief, 10 years after her daughter died.

Jeff and Tiernae Buttars made a difficult decision to have a portion of their son’s brain surgically removed to eliminate his seizures. The decision changed all of their lives.

A group of volunteers helps make sure people are not alone when they are dying:

I sat in the room with the volunteers. Every three hours one of them would leave, and someone else would appear in the doorway. Amanda, Denise, Martha, and others. Noon, midnight, 2 a.m., 6 p.m., a rhythm.

They had found NODA in various ways. Amanda Egler read about it in a news app on her phone. Her grandmother had died the previous year, and it was fresh in Amanda’s mind that the death had been something of beauty, that her grandmother had been conscious until the very end, thankful that a constant flow of people were in her presence, sitting with her, the room never empty. Amanda read about NODA and considered what it might be like to die alone. “This is something very simple, but so important,” she said. “Because everyone is going to die, and to give three hours of your life, at the end of someone else’s, seems like the right thing to do.” She went to the first NODA volunteer meeting, just to listen.