Great Smoky Mountains National Park welcomes more than 12 million visitors a year.

It is the most visited national park in the United States.

More than the Grand Canyon, more than Yellowstone, more than Yoseite.

People come here to see ancient mountains covered in misty haze, to walk hundreds of miles of trails to enjoy pristine nature.

They believe that it is safe here, that rangers in green uniforms will protect them, that a person in uniform with the National Park Service emblem is a guarantor of order and safety.

But sometimes the uniform hides a monster.

In October 2012, workers dismantling an old ranger hut in a remote corner of the park discovered a metal hatch under the floor.

Behind the hatch was a room.

In the room were two skeletons chained to the wall.

The skulls wore iron masks with steel plates welded shut to completely cover their eyes and mouths.

For 10 years, these women were considered missing.

For 10 years, their families hoped they were alive.

All this time, they were in the basement of a man who was paid to protect park visitors.

This is a story about two friends who went hiking and never returned.

It is a story about a system that failed to protect them.

And it is a story about evil that hid behind the mask of a law enforcement officer for years.

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And in the comments, write, “Do you trust people in uniform unconditionally, or do you think that anyone can turn out to be not who they seem to be?” Alicia Reed was born on March 14th, 1979 in the town of Westerville, Ohio.

Westerville is a suburb of Columbus with a population of about 40,000 people.

A typical Midwestern American town with neat houses, well-kept lawns, and a reputation as one of the best places to raise children.

Otterbine College is located here.

Church communities are actively involved in the life of the city, and on Sundays, families gather for barbecues in their yards.

Alicia grew up in a family of a school teacher and an accountant.

She was the youngest of three children, the only girl among two older brothers, and had an independent streak from childhood.

At school, she was interested in photography and journalism, was the editor of the school newspaper, and dreamed of becoming a documentary filmmaker.

After graduating from high school, she enrolled at Ohio University in the department of mass communication where she met Megan Hol in her freshman year.

Megan was a year older than Alicia and came from the neighboring town of Gahana.

Her father owned a small auto repair shop and her mother worked as a nurse at a local hospital.

Megan studied ecology and biology and dreamed of working in nature conservation, perhaps in one of the national parks.

She had been an avid hiker since childhood.

Her family spent every summer vacation camping.

And by the age of 20, Megan had already visited a dozen national parks across the country.

Alicia and Megan met in the university hiking club and quickly became best friends.

They complimented each other.

Alicia was more outgoing and impulsive, while Megan was calm and organized.

Together they went on dozens of hikes in Ohio and neighboring states.

After graduating from university, they both stayed in Columbus.

Alicia worked as a junior editor at a local newspaper and Megan worked as a lab assistant at an environmental company.

They rented an apartment together in the city center and continued to go hiking whenever they could.

In the summer of 2002, the friends planned a big trip.

Their destination was Great Smoky Mountains National Park on the border of Tennessee and North Carolina.

Megan had long dreamed of visiting there.

It was one of the few large parks in the eastern part of the country that she had not yet seen.

They chose a route from Clingman’s Dome, the highest point on the Appalachian Trail to Andrews Bald, a picturesque mountain meadow with views of the surrounding peaks.

The hike was to take six or seven days and follow one of the most beautiful, but also most remote trails in the park.

The girls left Columbus on the morning of August 9th, 2002 in Megan’s silver 1998 Honda Accord.

It was about a 5-hour drive to the park.

They planned to arrive in the evening, spend the night at a campground near the entrance, and start hiking the next morning.

They were last seen alive on Monday, August 12th, 2002 at around a.m.

The weather that day was changeable, typical for August in the Smoky Mountains.

The sun was shining in the morning, but thunderstorms were expected by noon.

The temperature hovered around 25° C.

The humidity was high, and the first clouds were already gathering over the mountains.

Alicia and Megan stopped in the parking lot at the trail head leading to Andrew’s Bald to check their equipment and study the root map.

There, a park ranger spotted them.

His name was Ronald Harper.

He was 48 years old and had been working in the park for 12 years.

He was a tall, thin man with shortcropped graying hair and a neatly trimmed mustache.

His colleagues described him as a quiet, reserved man who preferred to work alone in remote areas of the park.

He lived in a staff cabin in a closed service area inaccessible to tourists and rarely appeared at the main office.

That morning, Harper was driving past the parking lot in his work pickup truck and stopped when he saw two young women pouring over a map.

He approached them, introduced himself, and offered to help.

According to other tourists who were in the parking lot at the time, the conversation seemed friendly and relaxed.

Harper pointed to the map, explained something, and the girls nodded and smiled.

A few minutes later, he returned to his pickup truck and drove away.

Alicia and Megan put on their backpacks and set off on their hike.

That was the last time they were seen.

The girls were supposed to return to the car on Friday, August 16th.

Megan promised to call her mother as soon as they left the park and had cell phone reception.

There was no call on Friday or Saturday.

On Sunday, August 18th, Megan’s worried mom called the police.

At first, her report wasn’t taken seriously.

Adult women who were experienced hikers could be delayed for many reasons.

Bad weather, a change of route, an injury that required a slow return.

The police advised waiting another day or two.

But Megan’s mother insisted she knew her daughter.

Megan never missed scheduled calls.

If she promised to call on Friday, she called on Friday.

On Monday, August 19th, a week after the girls were last seen, the park administration began a search.

The first thing they did was check the parking lot.

The silver Honda Accord was where they had left it, covered in a layer of dust and pine needles.

The doors were locked and inside were personal belongings.

Alicia’s bag with her wallet and documents, a change of clothes, and several books.

They took the keys to the girl’s car with them.

They were found later in Megan’s backpack pocket.

The search party set off along the route that Alicia and Megan were supposed to take.

The trail led through a dense forest, climbing the mountain slopes to the high alitude meadows.

In some places, the trail was clearly marked.

In others, it was almost lost among the trees and bushes.

Experienced rangers led the way, followed by volunteers from local search and rescue teams.

On the second day of the search, they found the camp.

It was located about 5 mi from the start of the trail in a small clearing by a stream.

The place was ideal for camping, a flat area, access to water, protection from the wind.

The tent, a green Celty twoperson tourist tent, stood neatly folded at the base of a large oak tree.

It was not dismantled or damaged.

It was folded as if its owners were about to leave.

Near the tent were traces of a campfire, stones laid out in a circle, ashes, and unburned branches.

The fire had been extinguished, but not covered with earth, as is usually done when breaking camp.

A few meters from the tent lay two backpacks containing sleeping bags, food supplies, a water filter, a first aid kit, and flashlights.

Everything was in place.

Everything except the girls themselves.

Forensic experts examined the site.

There were no signs of a struggle, no traces of blood.

There were no signs that anything violent had happened here.

The traces on the ground had been smudged.

There had been several rains over the week and the soil was soggy, but the experts were able to distinguish the prints of two pairs of hiking boots and possibly another pair larger with a different tread pattern.

The search continued for 3 weeks.

Helicopters, search dogs, and hundreds of volunteers were brought in.

They combed the area within a 20 m radius of the camp.

They searched every trail, every ravine, every cave.

They checked all the streams and rivers downstream in case the girls had drowned and their bodies had been carried away by the water.

Nothing.

Alicia Reed and Megan Hol had vanished into thin air.

The investigation was conducted by the FBI in conjunction with the Tennessee State Police and the National Park Service.

The case was given federal status because the disappearance occurred within a national park.

Special Agent Daniel Morris, a veteran with 20 years of experience specializing in missing person’s cases, was appointed lead investigator.

Morris began by checking the victim’s surroundings.

Friends, relatives, colleagues, former partners.

Everyone was interviewed and everyone’s alibis were checked.

Alicia had an ex-boyfriend whom she had broken up with 6 months before her disappearance.

The breakup had been painful.

He had tried for a long time to get her back, showing up at her apartment several times uninvited, but at the time of her disappearance, he was in California at a friend’s wedding, as confirmed by dozens of witnesses.

Megan had no recent relationships.

She was focused on work and study.

She was considering applying for a master’s degree in ecology.

Her social circle was small, family, a few close friends, and colleagues.

None of them aroused suspicion.

The investigation turned its attention to other people who were in the park during that period.

The list of tourists who had registered their roots included several hundred names.

Each one was checked.

Several people attracted attention, single men traveling alone, but all of them had clean backgrounds and confirmed alibis for the following days.

One tourist from Florida named Kevin Burns was of particular interest.

He was 35 years old and traveling alone.

Several witnesses saw him in the same parking lot where Alicia and Megan were last seen.

Moreover, one witness claimed that Burns had spoken to the girls shortly before they set off on the trail.

Burns was found and questioned.

He admitted that he had seen the girls and even exchanged a few words with them, asking which route they had chosen, but he insisted that he then went in the opposite direction and did not see them again.

His alibi for the following days was weak.

He was traveling alone and could not confirm his whereabouts, but the investigation had no evidence of his involvement.

There was no evidence linking him to the disappearance.

There were no signs of violence that could be attributed to him.

Burns remained under surveillance for several months, but was never arrested.

Another lead was a forest ranger who spoke to the girls on the morning of August 12th.

Ronald Harper was interviewed as part of standard procedure.

The investigation talked to all park employees who might have seen or heard something.

Harper said that he did stop in the parking lot and talked to the two tourists.

He gave them some advice on the route, warned them about possible thunderstorms, and wished them luck.

After that, he drove on to do his job, checking the condition of the trails in the northern part of the park.

His testimony was calm, consistent, and without contradictions.

Investigator Morris noted in his notes that Harper made the impression of a reliable, professional employee.

His personal file was clean.

No complaints, no disciplinary actions in 12 years of service.

His colleagues spoke positively of him, although they noted his reserved nature.

But being reserved is not a crime.

Many people who work in remote locations prefer solitude.

Harper was not considered a suspect.

His name was recorded in the case file as the name of the witness who last saw the victims alive.

And that was all.

The investigation lasted 2 years.

During that time, hundreds of theories were tested.

Thousands of witnesses were interviewed and thousands of hours of surveillance camera footage from the park’s surroundings were studied.

Nothing yielded any results.

The bodies were not found.

The perpetrator, if he existed, was not identified.

In 2004, the active phase of the investigation was curtailed.

The case was not closed.

Formally, it remained open, but resources were redirected to other cases.

Investigator Morris handed the case over to a colleague and resigned from the FBI to work as a private consultant.

He later admitted to reporters that the Reed and Holt case had haunted him for years, that he thought about it every day, that he couldn’t forgive himself for his failure.

In 2006, the case was officially classified as cold, an unsolved crime without an active investigation.

Alicia and Megan’s families did not give up.

They created a fund to help find missing persons, organized annual memorial marches, and gave interviews to the media.

Every year, Alicia’s mother came to the park and left flowers at the beginning of the trail where her daughter was last seen.

She told reporters that she felt Alysia’s presence in these mountains, that she did not believe in her death.

That one day the truth would come out.

She was right.

But when the truth came out, it was worse than any nightmare.

On October 7th, 2012, Ronald Harper did not show up for the morning staff meeting at the park administration office.

This was unusual.

Despite his reserved nature, Harper was known for his punctuality.

A colleague drove to his cabin to check if everything was okay.

The cabin was located in a restricted service area about 15 mi from the nearest tourist trail.

It was an old building from the 1950s, a one-story wooden house with a porch built to house staff in remote areas of the park.

Harper had lived there alone for 10 years.

His colleague found him on the living room floor.

Harper was dead.

He appeared to have died of a heart attack.

His face was contorted in pain, his hand pressed against his chest.

Doctors were called, pronounced him dead, and took the body to the morg.

Ronald Harper was 58 years old.

After Harper’s death, his cabin had to be vacated and prepared for the next employee.

But upon inspection, it was found that the building was in disrepair.

The foundation had sunk, the roof was leaking, and the wiring did not meet standards.

It was decided to demolish the cabin and build a new one in its place.

On October 23rd, 2012, a crew of workers arrived on site to prepare for demolition.

They began by inspecting the building to determine what equipment would be needed.

One of the workers examining the floor in the back room noticed something strange.

The floorboards in one spot were not as tightly fitted as the rest.

They bent slightly underweight, as if there was a void underneath.

The worker called his colleagues.

Together, they lifted several floorboards and discovered a metal hatch measuring approximately 1 m by 1 meter.

The hatch was locked with a heavy padlock.

There was no key anywhere.

The foreman contacted the park administration.

They in turn called the police.

No one knew there was a basement under the cabin.

It wasn’t listed in the technical documentation.

Perhaps Harper had built it himself during his years living in this secluded place.

The police arrived 2 hours later.

They cut the lock with bolt cutters.

The hatch was opened.

Under the hatch was a staircase leading down into the darkness.

The police officers descended with flashlights.

What they saw caused one of them to run outside and bend over in a fit of vomiting.

The basement was about 4×5 m in size.

The walls were covered with plywood and on top of the plywood was a layer of soundproofing material.

The ceiling was low, about 2 m high.

The only light came from a single light bulb hanging from a wire.

In the corner stood an old wooden table with some objects on it.

Metal rings were hammered into the wall opposite the entrance through which thick chains were threaded.

And two skeletons were chained to these chains.

They sat on the floor with their backs to the wall about a meter apart.

Their hands were shackled to the chains.

But the most terrifying thing was not the chains.

Metal masks were placed over the skulls of both skeletons.

The masks were homemade, welded from steel plates shaped to fit the human face.

They completely covered the faces, leaving only small holes for the nose.

The eyes and mouths were welded shut with solid plates.

The masks were attached to the heads with straps and bolts passing through holes in the metal.

The police called in forensic experts.

The area was cordoned off and detailed work began to collect evidence.

The examination of the basement took several days.

What the investigators discovered allowed them to reconstruct what had happened within those walls.

Several items lay on a table in the corner.

An old Polaroid camera, a stack of photographs, a leatherbound notebook, a bunch of keys, and medical supplies.

syringes, ampules of painkillers, bandages.

Next to it stood a metal box welded shut.

They opened it and found scraps of women’s clothing inside.

T-shirts, shorts, underwear, and several personal items: a watch, earrings, a bracelet.

The Polaroid photos were dated on the back.

The earliest ones were from August 2002.

The latest ones were from March 2006.

The photos showed two young women, alive but clearly emaciated with pale skin and sunken eyes.

In some pictures, they were chained to the wall.

In others, they were sitting on the floor.

And in others, they were lying on a dirty mattress, which was later found rolled up in a corner of the basement.

In the most recent photos, the women were already wearing masks.

The notebook contained Harper’s notes.

The handwriting was neat, the notes methodical.

He called his victims silent guests and described their progress day by day.

He wrote about how they were learning to obey, how they were accepting their new lives, how they were becoming perfect.

He wrote about the masks as a gift that frees them from the need to see and speak.

The notes were frighteningly calm, devoid of any emotion, as if he were describing the care of house plants rather than the torture of living people.

DNA analysis of the remains took several weeks.

The results confirmed what investigators already suspected.

They were Alicia Reed and Megan Holt.

Forensic examination determined that death occurred presumably in 2006, around the time the last photographs were taken.

The exact cause of death was difficult to determine due to the condition of the remains, but experts suggested exhaustion and infection.

Traces of multiple fractures were found on the bones, some healed, some not.

Traces of restraint on the wrists and ankles indicated that the victims had been chained for a long time.

The examination also showed that the women had been sexually assaulted.

Harper’s notebook confirmed this in the most disgusting detail.

They spent almost 4 years in that basement.

4 years in chains, in darkness, completely isolated from the world.

four years of torture, humiliation, and abuse at the hands of a man who presented himself as a defender of the law.

An investigation into Harper’s background revealed information that explained a lot and raised serious questions about the system that allowed him to work in the park.

Ronald Harper was born in 1954 in a small town in West Virginia.

He had a difficult childhood.

His father was an alcoholic and his mother left the family when he was 6 years old.

He grew up with a father who regularly beat him and a grandmother who was too old and sick to intervene.

At 18, Harper joined the army.

He served in the military police and according to official records was a good soldier, disciplined and efficient.

But in 1982, he was discharged from the army on grounds related to mental disorders and abuse.

The details of his discharge were classified, but journalists later discovered that Harper had been accused of beating a prisoner in the guard house.

The prisoner suffered serious injuries, but the case was hushed up and Harper was simply dismissed.

After the army, Harper scraped by on odd jobs for several years until he got a job with the National Park Service in 1990.

How he managed to do this remains a mystery.

When he was hired, a background check was required, which should have revealed his dismissal from the army.

But according to the investigation, Harper provided fake letters of recommendation and distorted information about his past.

Either the check was carried out carelessly or someone deliberately turned a blind eye to the warning signs.

Harper worked in the park for 12 years and during that time no one suspected anything was wrong.

He was quiet, hardworking, and reliable.

He chose the most remote areas where he could work alone.

He rarely socialized with colleagues and almost never invited anyone to his home.

He was considered simply an introvert who loved nature and solitude.

No one guessed that a monster was hiding behind this mask.

The investigation also established that Alicia and Megan were not Harper’s first victims.

During a search of his cabin and basement, items belonging to other women were found.

Jewelry, documents, photographs.

The police identified at least three other possible victims.

Women who disappeared in or around the park in the 1990s and whose bodies were never found.

However, without remains, it was impossible to prove Harper’s involvement.

The Reed and Hol case was officially closed in December 2012.

The criminal was dead, his guilt proven.

Justice, however belated, had prevailed.

But for the victim’s families, this was little consolation.

Alicia’s mother, upon learning of the discovery, was hospitalized with a heart attack.

She survived, but never fully recovered.

In an interview she gave a year after the case was solved, she said, “For 10 years, I hoped my daughter was alive, that she was lost somewhere, that she had amnesia, that she had started a new life.

I came up with a thousand explanations just so I wouldn’t have to think about the worst.

And now I know that the worst was reality, that she spent four years in hell and I couldn’t do anything about it.” Megan’s mother died of cancer in 2010, 2 years before her daughter was found.

She died without ever knowing the truth.

Perhaps it was for the best.

The Reed and Hol case sparked a wave of criticism of the National Park Service.

How could someone with such a past get a job related to visitor safety? How could he keep women in the basement for years without anyone noticing? Why wasn’t his cabin checked, inspected, or monitored? The service conducted an internal investigation and acknowledged a number of serious violations.

Hiring procedures were tightened.

Monitoring of employees working in remote areas was increased.

Regular psychological testing of staff was introduced, but it was too late for Alicia and Megan.

This story raises questions that have no easy answers.

How can we protect people from those who are supposed to protect them? How can we recognize a monster hiding behind the mask of an ordinary person? How can we live with the knowledge that evil can lurk in the most unexpected places? Great Smoky Mountains National Park remains the most visited national park in the country.

Millions of people come here every year to enjoy nature, hike the trails, and see the mountains.

Most of them know nothing about what happened in a remote cabin 20 years ago.

And perhaps that’s for the best, but some remember.

Every year on August 12th, flowers and photographs of two smiling young women appear at the trail head leading to Andrew’s bald.

Alicia was 23.

Megan was 24.

They had dreams, plans, a future.

All of that was taken away by the person they trusted.

If this story teaches us anything, it’s this.

Evil doesn’t always look like evil.

Sometimes it wears a uniform.

Sometimes it smiles and offers help.

And sometimes the only way to protect yourself is to remember that not everyone in uniform is trustworthy.

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In the next video, we’ll talk about another case involving disappearances in national parks.

a case that remains unsolved to this day.

In the meantime, be careful and remember the most dangerous predators sometimes walk on two legs.