Episode 1: What We Know

The first time most people heard about Lime Town was on the night of February 8th 2004. 17 minutes later, the first responders arrived to the outside gate, followed shortly thereafter by local news station WVPK, where they uncovered the troubling reality. No one was allowed access into Lime Town. "Samantha, can you tell us what's going on?" "Thanks Ron, we're standing at the outer security gates of Lime Town and as you can see, there is a large gathering of police officers and firefighters here, but they're not being allowed into the facility." "Not being allowed, what do you mean they're not being allowed, who's not allowing them, Samantha?" "Well we can't get anyone to speak to us right now, but we can't see that they're as a sizeable security presence on the other side of the fence. And there seems to be an ongoing conversation." "Can someone tell us what's happening?" "We have two people there." "Sorry we're being told to clear the area now, there seems to be a lot of confusion." The reason or reasons for their denied access remains a point of contention. The next morning, there was no visible activity within the community. "There is no one on the grounds that I can see, but there does appear to be a large, movering bonfire, how it gets, there's one large snake in the ground hard to make out from here what I'm looking at." For the next two days, Lime Town was dormant, all attempts at contact failed, and on the morning of February 11th, the security team left their post, police officers on the scene were prevented, presumably by their superiors, from stopping the security team for questioning. "The security at the front gate is now driving away from the facility." The gate to Lime Town was left open. What the world discovered was the complete disappearance of every man, woman, and child in Lime Town, 327 people. "All of a sudden, what can you tell us about the investigation?" "Where is everyone?" "I think we asked you a day. What is here?" "Nobody's here. What do you mean by that?" "The story exploded, gaining international attention." "I'll talk story from the United States this evening." "You just been listening to an indecipherable Lime-11 call, you have Lime Town to call. And then just as suddenly as the story of Lime Town landed, it evaporated back into the 24-hour news cycle, swallowed by the first legal same-sex marriage in San Francisco. The announcement of successful human cloning in South Korea, war in Iraq, or in Afghanistan marriages, scandals, weathered drugs. The story of Lime Town became a tragedy, among countless other tragedies. A ghost story you can barely remember. My name is Leah Haddock, and I am an investigative reporter with APR. I was 17 years old as the events of Lime Town unfolded, and I became somewhat of a Lime Town news junkie. In the spirit of full disclosure, it is also a personal story to me, as an uncle on my father's side, granted, when I only ever heard stories about and never met beyond infancy, Dr. Emil Haddock is counted as one of the missing. All things considered it's fair to say that Lime Town and the questions it left in my family played a large part in why I became a reporter in the first place. The infamous photo of the devastated father collapsed to his knees outside the gates of Lime Town. His hands pulling his hair and outrage and confusion hangs on the wall above my desk. Seems I was always supposed to tell the story. So without any further delay, the following report is the first of seven. That's right, seven part series on Lime Town, starting with everything we know up to this point, then quickly moving to the people it most affected, and what it means to them today. Our aim, simply, to remember, to honor, and to attempt to give a voice to the missing through the ones who love the most, and who cannot, who will not, forget them. Ladies, stay tuned. What makes the Lime Town tragedy unique? What makes it worth a continuing discussion in spite of the collective moving on is the complete lack of context. In the ten-year sense, no one group or individual has taken responsibility. No explanations have been uncovered or given with any credibility and, most tragically, no survivors have been found. Lime Town was established in June of 2002 in an undeveloped region of White County in Middle Tennessee. The township was owned by Rialore, which we now know was a private corporation, owned entirely by. We're not from Villard or R.B. Villard, as he's bothered up to him for the sake of the efficiency. That's Hunter Garrett, Mr. Villard's biographer. Hello. Hi, how are you? We'll get back to him in a bit. Ground was broken on a corporate campus in the fall of 2002. This is Terry Hylkins. I'm a reporter for the Spartan Sentinel in Spartan Tennessee, and I have been loosely covering the Lime Town story on and off for the past 10 years or so. And Terry told me that Lime Town was originally built to house up to 1,000 researchers and their families. It's estimated to have cost somewhere between 1.7 and $2 billion for the construction alone. Whoa. Yeah, well, like I said before, nothing about this construction was secret or hidden. Those numbers are public record. There were the necessary permits and forms filled out as well as the token acknowledgments to the public. So what was the publicly stated purpose then? Well, that was always a little vague, but I think their PR director, if they bothered to have one, would tell you that their intent was to gain a full understanding of the human brain. What? A full understanding of the. I have no idea. None of us did. This was from the beginning RB Villards Passion Play. Here's Hunter Garrett again. He privately revealed to his friends that he felt that this is a quote, mind you, that this could change the destiny of the species, which explains the confidence he had in his investment and the confidence he had in Oscar Totem, all of which ultimately makes him somewhat of a tragic figure. He's Don Quixote. Yes, that's quite right. When Villard's relationship with Dr. Oscar Totem started remains unclear, but we do know that Dr. Totem was named the lead researcher of the facility before construction even began back to Terry. The idea of an actual town that is a community with restaurants, bars, hardware store, even that ridiculous movie theater seems to have come from Dr. Totem who felt he needed the touches of home to get the brightest minds in his field to flock to the wilds of White County Tennessee, I guess. It is rather remote. That's not exactly South Beach. What did his press release say? You have that, right? We want this town to be a place that researchers and their families want to live, a place where work, family, and fun come together for the betterment of the world. Wow. So he made it sound like Disneyland or something. So, together with Dr. Totem's vision and RB Villard's investment, it was built and they did in fact come, researchers and technicians at every level of the neuroscience field, including my uncle, came from each corner of the globe, most leaving their current jobs, with others even coming out of retirement. There was a buzz as it was described to me by those familiar with that initial recruitment, but the cause went undefined to everyone on the outside. It should be made clear here that while the greatest mystery surrounding Lime Town remains its final days, an almost equally frustrating question surrounds the town's real purpose, why did it require such a massive undertaking? What about this particular research justified the amount of workers Dr. Totem felt was necessary to execute it? Speculation ranges from the basic curing of disease to the almost impossible task of brain mapping. Truth in the circumstance, however, remains uncertain. The facility was opened on June 3rd, 2003, 327 people were housed there, not only those in the neuroscience fields in their families, but other personnel to actually run a town. Cooks, janitors, landscapeers, plumbers, electricians… A lot of people pulled double duty. So brain researcher by day, barber or janitor by night? Well, they'd alternate days, but yeah, basically, it was Mayberry, only it was run by some of the smartest people on the planet. For a little over eight months, things, as undefined as those things are for our purposes, appear to have run smoothly. Initially, there was mild regional interest in Lime Town, but outside of some anonymous chatter in the smaller corners of the internet, things proceeded without any substantial public scrutiny. And then, very suddenly… In the end, these were the facts. 327 men, women and children have vanished. In the 10 years since, not one survivor has been located. In 2007, nighttime prime time scored an interview with Kyle Wolinski, a contractor who stated he worked on security detail at Lime Town. So you say you have no idea what happened in those three days? We were just told to keep everyone out and shoot anyone who didn't listen. We rotated shifts at the perimeter barracks, day shift, night shift, day shift, night shift. That morning, we were just told to leave the gates. Was there no security detail in the town itself? No, not from our group. Who told you to leave them? I don't know. You don't know. We never knew. I've always on a phone. Then, how were you paid? In cash. Mr. Wolinski also revealed in the interview that he and his fellow contractors had been held in detention for 18 months at Guatuanamo Bay for questioning. An accusation later confirmed by the State Department. Mr. Wolinski could not be reached for comment for this story. His current whereabouts are unknown. And then there's the aforementioned RB Villard, the former telecommunications titan and one of Forbes magazine's most wealthy men on the planet. The man who personally bankrolled the entire Lime Town project, the man who should know more than anyone, revealed almost the least, when called before Congress in May of 2004. Replayed here is the most infamous exchange with minority leader Pitney. Mr. Villard, you've yet to provide a single, useful piece of information about the purposes of this institution. Are you honestly going to sit here and act like you don't know anything? Congresswoman, I couldn't expect you to understand the invective and the hysteria I've endured over the previous three months. I suppose it's not so different from the vitriol of endured throughout my entire career. I still believe that one day the work of rail law will be assigned its rightful place in the annals of history. And you, Congresswoman, you and the rest of the inept one await who go down to the annals nothing. Mr. Villard, what do you mean still believe? My client refrains from any further testimony. RB Villard also could not be reached for comment as he has hidden from public view since the hearing. Then there's Dr. Oscar Totem, the relatively young neuroscientist in whom RB Villard invested. I could find no one to speak on record about his life, but this is what we know. Oscar Totem worked in a private lab based out of Sydney, Australia, before being named the head researcher at Lime Town. He has been universally described as brilliant, but also volatile and difficult to work with. What cannot be denied is it's almost childlike optimism. Plate here is a clip from a speech he gave in 2002, the International Neuroscience Winter Conference in Soldan, Australia. Because I am an optimist when it comes to my fellow man, I do not think we are as limited or as powerless as we sometimes feel. We shouldn't look to the stars and feel smaller, we should look to the stars in defiance and be able to reveal the power, the magnitude of a uniquely gifted human mind. The human mind, there is a mystery there we must live in, must thrive in. It is there in the darkness where we will find the light that unites us all. By all accounts, Dr. Oscar Totem was a remarkable man, revered by some, feared by many, but respected by all within his field. But as stated earlier, no one would go unrecord for any part of the story, perhaps out of fear of a potential link of their name to his. Despite his fall from grace, Dr. Totem remains remarkable for another reason. These were the only human remains found in the town on the day of the disappearance. His teeth were recovered from the charred remnants, the base of the stake on the execution site. It is presumed he was burned alive. Why is the question no one can answer? The question no one can answer at nearly every turn of Limetown. The only meaning of Limetown remains subjective. Something each individual must piece together from the chaos and project back onto its blank canvas. It is a tragedy, like any real tragedy, that forces us to confront our worst fears and exposes an underlying hope that there is a larger narrative to everything, that there must be meaning at all. The moment it hits you, the same moment you attempt to rebuild again for better or worse, is where I started when I spoke with the families of the victims. While I did have a family member living in Limetown, because of familial disputes and distance, he was never much more than a man who had to be pointed out to me in photographs. Out of respect for their wishes, neither the family members I spoke with or the victims will be identified in this montage of voices. My sister called me in my car. I was sitting right here, where I'm talking to you. I was at the grocery store. I still see her face everywhere. I don't want to, and then I worry if I don't. It's like someone just, I don't know, took my arm from me. How do you live without an arm? You keep living, but everything else is just that much worse. I've had issues since his disappearance. I can't feel. I'm sorry. That car was hers. It's sitting out in the backyard. We covered it with a tarp about a year after she was gone. I like to go inside and just sit. She said, "Dad, I'm scared. That's all. That's the last thing she ever said to me. I'm haunted by the ghost of another present." He told me he was sorry. He didn't say why. I think they knew something. No one can convince me different. I couldn't understand her. Bad reception. My last conversation with my daughter had bad cell reception. A dream about him. He talks to me. We talk about everything, nothing. He says he's doing well. When I wake up, that's the reason I'll fight to do it all over again. I know one day I'll see him. When each family member was asked, "Do you think your loved one is still alive?" There was a surprisingly unanimous response. Yes, absolutely. Yes she is. I know. She's alive still. I can feel it. That's the only thing that keeps me going. He's not gone. I know they're coming back. When I spoke with now retired federal agent, Ron Calhoun, and I worked with the Federal Bureau of Investigation during the Lime Town Incidents. Ron told me that the sense of optimism shared by the victims was pretty standard in an unresolved case like this. Yes, ma'am. When people don't see a body and have no reason to think that their loved one has been harmed, it is pretty standard for the grieving party to hold out hope, at least in my experience. As they should, specifically to this case. As they should. You personally believe that they are still alive? Yes, ma'am. Why do you believe that? I worked for the FBI for nearly 32 years, and in 32 years time you can see some pretty troubling things to put it delicately. You grow a pretty thick skinned and most stuff, and I have worked many crime scenes involving disappearances or kidnappings or other events of that nature, but nothing. Nothing sticks with me like Lime Town. There was nothing left behind. We dusted for prints, combed every surface for hairs, fingernails, hell, even some spits somewhere in a toothbrush. And look, look, we have visual proof that there was a large population on that site, February 8th. And on February 11th, it's like no one ever was. What do you make of that? That this was purposeful. It was following a plan, and it was done masterfully. I have never seen anything like it. I'm sorry. I don't understand how -- how could 327 people be moved under complete surveillance without anyone noticing? Well, now you've hit my cutoff of understanding. No ideas or theories? As far as I'm concerned, those Yahoo-selling plastic alien ships and Raptured trinkets out next to Lime Town have as good an idea as any. Another day goes by, I don't think of it. Did we miss something? Did we all miss something? I don't know. I don't know. My first view of Lime Town, what remains of it, was on a bright autumn day last October. I was with Terry Hylkins again, this time in the field. Let's just over the ridge here. You can see the top of the Central Research Facility. My first impression of Lime Town. That's it? Wow, yeah. I see it. It's a lot smaller than I imagined it would be. Yeah, it's pretty common for people on camera ads, ten pounds, I think. This electrified, bored, wired fence is new, the original perimeter was about a mile back, but otherwise, take away the decade of unchecked wildlife and the youthful vandalism and you're seeing it. That is Lime Town. The houses literally all have white-picked fences. Yeah, the dream within the dream. Can we get closer? Oh, absolutely. We walk through the abandoned streets towards the Central Research Facility, past the beautiful homes with their fenced in yards now turned against them, past the shops, the restaurants, all of them empty, hollow. So where did the name Lime Town actually come from? From the caves, all these houses are connected, the caves are built over for temperature control. The facility itself was built deep into the earth, presumably using the caves as a way to cheaply keep their mass of electronic constructs, things from overeating. So Lime Stone caves, town built sort of into the caves. Of course, the rumors go that the caves might have been used for other reasons, but. What other reasons? Well, anything you can think of. There's an entire conspiracy industry built on the main road, it weighs back if you're looking for campfire spook stories. They have shirts, tree ornaments, all kinds of stuff. There's actually a problem with people getting lost in the surrounding cave systems because they fancy themselves belongkers, I guess. They actually had to seal several cave entrances to keep people out. The domed research facility is at the far end of town, built directly into the hill, with only its front end visible. It almost feels dynamic, as if the structure is actively crawling from the earth, or being dragged back down into it again. Everything about it says, "Keep out." Anyways, you can see this has been closed down to the public, well, it's been really open to the public, but now. I have to say this is a pretty eerie place. Well, as soon as this facility could have been boarded up and locked away, it was. The only reason it hadn't been destroyed outright is to give the illusion of hope, which is to say you are not alone in feeling spooked. Hope is the last thing I feel standing here. Yeah, it's not much to look at, that's for sure. You want to check out one of the houses? Standing in one of the homes, I was struck with how normal everything was. Not just furniture, arrangement, or other aesthetic touches of domesticity, but the overwhelming feeling of being a voyeur and someone else's home while they quickly ran to the grocery store. Photos on the walls, clothes in the closets, even junk mail sitting on the kitchen table. They got mail? Sure, yeah. I guess I'd just assume they didn't get mail. Ah, why do you say that? I don't know, it just seems very. It gets the idea of the entire venture as you know it. Yes. Like, these people were supposed to be off the grid. And nothing says grid, quite like a Cedar's catalogue. The mail would come in one very large delivery to the guard shack. We walked past by the fence, and then they would distribute it within the town themselves. No one was hiding. That gets lost in time a bit, and this town was not hidden from the world. It was built in plain sight, it operated in plain sight. We knew something unique was happening, but no one really cared, not until after, of course. Why would they? It's hard to think about now, but these were real people. Sorry, I'm an optimist. To say these houses were pristine images of the past would not be accurate, however. Animals and intruders alike had certainly taken their shots before the lockdown of the site. But the most noticeable thing, and the most difficult thing to ignore. The smell, right? What is that? It's dry rot. All the living quarterhouses have them. Is that due to the abandonment or.? That's part of it, yeah. But the full answer is actually pretty silly. The designer of this city was given a pretty healthy budget to work with. That man constructing this town of beautiful well-built homes made of the best materials, however, in doing all this, or whatever reason, they forgot to put kick out flashing on the gutters. It's simple oversight, but every time it rains, water would feed right into the walls. The dry rot is a misnomer. It comes from wet conditions, and then if left untreated, it spreads like cancer. All the people lived here, I'm not sure many of them even noticed, not enough time to. But over the years, since all these houses have become just riddles with it, these beautiful shrines to the American Dream just rotting from the inside out. All these brilliant minds, all these jazes of industry, you know, the future of this, the future of that, and they didn't plan for the rain. When we arrived at the site of the execution, all that remained was a stake buried in the ground, the dark memorial to the madness of that night. Seemingly out of reverence, no plants surround the base. The only reminder of tragedy can be found in the darkened wood of this stake from the flames. Terry remained silent as we got closer. His demeanor, changing from tour guide to reverent observer. What do you feel standing here? I feel exactly how I feel about all of this. Which is how? Like I've stared at something too long, and I don't know what damn thing. And that was supposed to conclude part one of my report, then something happened. Hello? Sorry. I'm just pounding. It's okay. Just take your time. How do I start? Okay. I have someone you need to talk to. What do you mean? She's only a little one. Who? I have to survive her. She wants to speak to you, and only you. I'm going to put her on now. But, Terry, I don't understand. Why does she want to talk to me at? I feel like we should tell somebody. No. Excuse me? Miss Haddock, you and I, we are the only ones to speak. No one else. I'm sorry it has to be this way. How can I believe you? I'll leave the details with Mr. Hawkins. Terry? Is this real? Are you still recording? Okay. Stop recording. [Music] [Music] [BLANK_AUDIO]