Terrifying & True | The Good Hart Murders Of The Robison Family

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On an idyllic vacation in northern Michigan, A family meets a truly untimely and

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grizzly end, leaving echoes of shock, terror, and disgust among all the

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people there. But what really happened
and who was to blame? All that

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and so much more, as we
dive in tonight, what you were about

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to beat? You burn you?
Based on witness accounts, testimonies, and

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public record, this is terrifying and
treat Usually when a story hits me close

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to home, it's because it takes
place in the state of Ohio, and

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Ohio has no shortage of strange tales. But this one hit me in a

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different way. It takes place in
our neighbor to the north Michigan, and

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in particular Northern Michigan, a part
of the country that I like to go

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to unwind, relax and feel care
free. It's a peaceful place, a

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place full of kind hearted people.
But this story shows that anywhere, no

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matter how beautiful, no matter how
picturesque, can be the site of murder

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and all that entails. So we'll
tell that story tonight. After you make

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sure you're subscribed and listen to these
quick messages an unsettling series of events occurred

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in the sleepy Misionchigan hamlet of Good
Heart in the summer of nineteen sixty eight,

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shocking the residence and leaving an indelible
mark on their lives. An unspeakable

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crime haunts a tiny community and a
family vacation takes a deadly turn. In

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this mystery. The Robinson family,
consisting of a couple and their four children,

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were enjoying their summer at the lakeside
cottage when a horrifying event occurred.

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One by one, each member of
the family was mercilessly shot, with some

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also being bludgeoned, in an act
of violence that shook the foundations of Good

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Heart. Among the victims was the
family's youngest, a seven year old girl,

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bringing the brutality of the incident into
stark reality. Following the gruesome discovery

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of their bodies, an extensive police
investigation unfolded, spanning the quiet shores of

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northern Michigan to the bustling streets of
southeast Michigan. Dick Robison, the father,

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ran his publishing company there for most
of the year. The investigation involved

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autopsies, burials, and even the
exhumation of bodies for further examination. Despite

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a lengthy list of witnesses and a
prime suspect, no one was ever arrested,

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and the case files were eventually marked
as inactive and unsolved. Yet fifty

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years later, there was a ripple
in the calm waters of Good Heart.

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Retired investigators, a local historian and
author Marty Link, teamed up to bring

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this case back to the community's attention. They organized forums presenting the facts of

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the investigation to packed rooms in Harbor
Springs, Pataski, and planned one for

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Charlevoi. Their message was, despite
the rumors and myths that have swirled around

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this case for decades, they believed
there was no mystery here. The prime

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suspect, a man who tragically ended
his own life in nineteen seventy three just

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as police were closing in, was
indeed the one responsible. This series of

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presentations aimed to set the record straight, challenging the rumors that suggested local involvement

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or criticize the police's work. It
was an unprecedented move to clear the air,

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protect reputations long marred by gossip,
and most importantly, to pay respect

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to a family that had suffered unimaginably
The Robson family murders are more than just

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a cold case or a sensational tale. They represent a deep wound in the

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community of northern Michigan, a reminder
of the fragility of peace and the faceless

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nature of evil. The efforts by
those who lived through the aftermath to bring

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clarity and closure after fifty years show
a community's resilience and its commitment to remembering

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the victims not as characters in a
tragic story, but as real people who

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lived, loved, and were loved. Once a peaceful summer hideaway, nineteen

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sixty eight became the year of a
terrible revelation at Blisswood Resort. The season

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began as usual, with plenty of
sunshine, but suddenly the pines began to

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emit a chilly aroma, far from
the pleasant, earthy perfume that one would

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anticipate in such a verdant haven.
This sinister odor led to whispers among the

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neighbors, discussions laced with worry about
the Robeson family's quiet cottage Somerset, a

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charming retreat where the family hadn't been
seen for some time. The Robisins were

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known as the family from Lathrop village. Dick Robison, the father, was

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a man who juggled the responsibilities of
advertising and an art magazine publisher. Just

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outside of Detroit, Somerset, their
log and stone sanctuary, nestled just a

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little journey north of Harbor Springs,
was where they had been eagerly expected to

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spend their summer. The cottage was
a stone's throw from the caressing waves of

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Lake Michigan, an idyllic setting for
any family looking to escape the hustle and

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bustle of city life. The alarm
was raised when a neighbor couldn't ignore the

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disturbing smell any longer. Something was
wrong. The air told a morose tale,

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and the neighbor felt it deep in
their bones. The Robison's residents,

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usually alive with the sound of a
bustling family preparing for another joyous summer,

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was eerily silent. Prompted by the
neighbour's concerns, a caretaker decided to investigate.

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Upon reaching the cottage on that fateful
July day, the unsettling odour grew

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stronger and more intolerable. The doors
firmly shut gave nothing away, so with

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a mix of caution and dread,
the caretaker forced his way in breaking the

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molding to unlock the door. The
sight that met his eyes was a harrowing

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pause in time, the first glimpse
of a scene that would be etched into

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the town's memory forever. It was
Shirley Robeson, only forty years old,

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motionless on the floor, her body
hidden beneath a plaid blanket. The quiet

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of the cottage was a stark contrast
to the storm of emotions that the caretaker

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must have felt at that moment as
he stumbled backwards and her to call the

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authorities. The peaceful image of Somerset
had been irrevocably shattered. What was once

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a place of family memories and laughter
had become the stage for a grim and

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heart wrenching story, a tale that
would continue to be whispered in the woods

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of bliss Wood for years to come. In the modest living room, Shirley

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Robeson, merely forty years old and
a mother of four, lay still on

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the ground. A blanket with a
pattern of plaid covered her, but her

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feet peeked out, untouched by the
fabric. One heartbreaking shot to her head

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ended her story there with the proof
found during the first examination of her body.

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Her husband Dick, aged forty two, the family's provider and protector,

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had met a similar gruesome fate.
He was on the hallway floor, collapsed

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over the furnace vent as if trying
to rise, before succumbing to his wounds.

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His body told a grim story of
violence. One shot to the head

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and another wound discovered later hinted at
a desperate struggle with both a gun and

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a blunt object. Their eldest son, Richard, a nineteen year old college

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student with his future ahead of him, was found at the threshold between life

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and dreams. Legs sprawled out from
the bedroom to the hallway. Multiple shots

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to his head took away his chance
to make a mark in the world,

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all linked to the same fatal bullets
as his mother's. Gary, only sixteen

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years old, a high school student
with the spark of youth still in his

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eyes, lay against the bedroom's wall. He too suffered from the cruelty of

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multiple gunshots. Later, an additional
discovery was made a sh shot from behind

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in a different sort of bullet,
adding layers to this chilling puzzle. The

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youngest son, Randal, at the
tender age of twelve, was found atop

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his father, a makeshift shroud from
a lavender rug, concealing half of him.

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A single shot had taken his innocence
away. Too young to meet such

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a fate, with no bullet left
to tell the tale, and little Susan,

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just seven years old, found near
her father's side in the hallway,

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faced the harshest of goodbyes with a
shot that not only silenced her laughter,

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but fractured the very frame of her
delicate being. The proof was in the

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remnants lodged in her dress, a
brutal exclamation point to her stolen youth.

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The bodies had been left long enough
for nature to obscure evidence, and for

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the gentle breeze to turn sharp with
a scent that spoke of unspeakable things.

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The Emmett County Fairgrounds became an impromptu
stage for the grim task of autopsies,

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as the morgue could not house the
echoes of tragedy that accompanied the Robison family.

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Months later, under the gray November
sky, the family was called back

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from their resting place in Southfield Cemetery. The search for truth demanded more,

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and so they were examined again in
hopes of uncovering what darkness had visited Somerset

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cottage. On that fateful day,
the community reeled on edge from a nightmare

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that walked in broad daylight, as
the once invisible threads of their lives became

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entangled in a mystery that seemed to
never resolve itself. A family lost,

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peace shattered, and countless questions left
lingering like ghosts in the summer air.

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Authorities concluded that the tragic events began
when someone fired riflesh through a window of

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the cottage, taking the lives of
Dick Robison and his son. The assailant

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pursued the remaining family members, shooting
them individually. After the killings, the

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murderer drew the curtains, locked the
door, turned the heat up inside the

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building, and attempted to conceal the
bullet holes in the window using cardboard.

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With the Robison family tragedy already a
month old, police started their investigation with

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neighbors and those who worked on the
property. Clues were scarce. A local

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man and a teen the last to
see the family, shared nothing unusual.

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Other locals mistook gunshots and shouting as
trivial beachside disturbances. The focus narrowed to

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Joseph Scalaro, the third, an
employee of Dick Robison. His stories didn't

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match the evidence, and under scrutiny
began to unravel. Scalaro, who positioned

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himself near the core of Robison's business, had given himself a secret raise by

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forging checks just before the family was
found lifeless. Yet when it came time

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to press charges, the county's financial
caution took precedence. Facing a costly trial,

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the prosecutor, with support from the
county board, chose frugality over justice.

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Even with the mounting evidence, the
case was left to gather dust,

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a story of unchecked secrets and unsought
justice, echoing the silent screams of a

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serene summer turned sorrowful. In their
hunt for the truth, detectives stumbled upon

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a critical lead two guns with links
to the crime, a twenty five caliber

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Beretta pistol and a rare twenty two
caliber ArmaLite Arcis rifle. Although Scalaro,

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the suspect, claimed to have given
these guns away, a discovery at his

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father in law's shooting range turned the
tide. Shell casings from an AR seven

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found there matched those from the crime
scene, pointing directly to Scolaro's involvement.

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This evidence breathed new life into the
investigation. The tireless efforts of the detectives

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to trace every lead, coupled with
the pioneering forensic work of the time,

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brought a sense of awe to all
of those involved. It showed how even

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the smallest piece of evidence could be
the key to unlocking the mystery of a

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crime. Ron Covalt, witnessing the
unfolding of these events, admired the meticulous

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approach of the investigators. Their dedication
not only showcased the growing capabilities of forensic

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science, but also highlighted the breakthrough
moment in the case. This discovery,

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connecting Scalaro to the crime through the
shell casings emerged as the critical clue that

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would eventually help navigate the twists and
turns of this complex and morbid case.

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As time slipped by without progress,
the Robison murder case shifted focus to Oakland

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County, home to the heart of
the investigation. The new prosecutor, L.

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Brooks Patterson, instructed Covalt to review
the case files thoroughly. Covalt quickly

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pieced together a troubling picture that pointed
to Joseph Scalaro as the murderer. They

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were ready to act on this lead, but before they could, the case

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took an abrupt and final turn.
Scallero ended his own life, leaving only

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a note proclaiming his innocence. Despite
his claim, the mystery and questions lingered,

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sealing the fate of the case.
With his untimely death. Half a

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century had slipped through the calendar's pages
since the Robison family tragedy. Yet Covalt,

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Wiles, and Link felt a compelling
duty to share the story with the

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local community, still haunted by the
events. They traveled with their presentation shining

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alight on the dark mystery that loomed
over northern Michigan. Covalt knew the people

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needed closure. He understood there yearning
for reassurance that the shadow of the killer

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no longer lurked among them. For
decades, in the absence of a trial

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or verdict, whispers and speculation had
woven a heavy blanket of unease over the

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community. Whiles, too, recognized
the weight of the unresolved past. He

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saw how fear had clung to the
young hearts back in nineteen sixty eight,

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never really loosening its grip even as
those children grew up Diving into police archives,

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he sought the unvarnished truth behind the
rumors, arming himself with facts via

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the Freedom of Information Act. His
goal was simple, fere with knowledge and

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silence the gossip with truth. The
abrupt halt of the investigation after Scalarro's death

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had left a gaping hole where answers
should have been. Authorities didn't push further.

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The case grew cold and was placed
on a shelf labeled inactive. But

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to Wiles and to those who remembered, it wasn't a mystery at all.

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Official indifference toward public opinion had let
theories fester and multiply, like shadows at

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dusk. Now, as elderly men
and women, witnesses to those dark days

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sought solace in understanding Covalt, Wiles
and Link hoped by speaking the truth they

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could dispel the ghosts of speculation.
Their storytelling aim to lay rest to the

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curious whispers that had echoed for fifty
years, a grievous shade over good heart

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that just wouldn't fade into the light
of day. Verifying and True is narrated

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by Enrique Kuto. It's executive produced
by Rob Fields and Mark Shields produced by

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Daniel Wilder with the original theme music
by Ray Maddis. If you have a

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Spooky and Terrifying and True