Welcome to Shades Of Humanity - investigations - interfaith Harmony efforts

Welcome to Shades Of Humanity - investigations - interfaith Harmony efforts

Welcome to Shades Of Humanity - investigations - interfaith Harmony effortsWelcome to Shades Of Humanity - investigations - interfaith Harmony effortsWelcome to Shades Of Humanity - investigations - interfaith Harmony efforts



On the night of May 27th, Charnice Milton, a twenty-seven-year-old journalist, was heading home from an assignment. She’d stopped to transfer buses in Anacostia, in Washington, D.C., after covering a neighborhood meeting for a Capitol Hill paper called the Hill Rag. According to police, Milton took a bullet aimed at another passerby, in a neighborhood that’s seen much of the twenty-per-cent increase in homicides in D.C. from this time last year. Her killing remains unsolved.

At Syracuse University, where Milton received a master’s degree in journalism in 2011, one professor remembered her unusual response to his question of where each student hoped to land in the next ten years. “Some said the New York Times, some said Esquire or Rolling Stone,” he told Syracuse.com. “Charnice said she wanted to be writing stories that mattered in the community where she grew up.” After graduating, she churned out copy as a stringer for the Hill Rag and its hyper-local sister paper, East of the River, covering her native southeast D.C., including Anacostia.

The most basic instinct of a local reporter is to take the importance of her neighbors as a given. In a community like Anacostia—where more than ninety per cent of residents are African-American, one in two kids lives below the poverty line, and incarceration and unemployment rates are among the nation’s highest—this is another way of saying that black lives matter. Sometimes, for Milton, that meant writing up community meetings, where neighbors protested shoddy development projects or called out the predations of banks. Other times, it meant documenting the impact of mass incarceration block by block. Milton covered the “Ban the Box” campaign to keep employers from freezing out applicants with criminal records, and the launch of a support group to help people leaving prison. She laid out local battles over funding for city fire and emergency medical services and plans to build the city’s first Wal-Mart, on the block where she was later shot.

Milton’s best work didn’t focus on the neighborhood's problems, at least not directly. It dipped, instead, into the lives of what her dad called “the geeks of Anacostia.” Milton wrote a profile of a high-school student named Jabari Jefferson, who won a scholarship to study in Beijing. He’d previously been harassed by police, and was mistaken on one occasion for a person suspected of breaking someone’s window. Now, Milton wrote, he’d made a name for himself as someone who could “continue changing others’ perceptions of African-American men in Ward 8.” She covered the ninetieth birthday of Erman Clay, a Second World War veteran who ranked among the first African-American Command Sergeant Majors in the National Guard. And she gave page space to Auntie Oye, a Liberian immigrant who taught Anacostia school-kids to cook healthier meals, dressing them up in little white chef’s coats and employing her best storytelling tricks. Twice in recent years, Milton interviewed the late Marion Barry; his wife told the crowd at Milton’s funeral that her husband had said of Charnice, “This young lady, she’s so different, she’s so thorough.”

Community papers can do this stuff: they can grill or gild local power, make space for voices outside it, and tell you where to find the chili-pepper festival or the soup kitchen or the voting booth. Milton didn’t romanticize the genre, but she believed in its value and worried about the economic forces stripping it down. On Pinterest, Milton asked her followers, “Traditional Journalism: Is it Old News?,” sharing an infographic full of grim statistics: “Between 2006 and 2011, daily newspaper staffs shrank 25%,” “Between 2005 and 2009, newspaper ad revenue dropped 47 percent.” But from the moment she graduated, she found a way to enlist in what she saw as a cultural movement to keep up grassroots news. She was young enough to speak social media as a second language—she posted her stories on LinkedIn and photos on Facebook. But her mother told me that the work in which she put her faith was shoe-leather, in-the-flesh reporting, bound for print.

Not long after Milton’s death, I drove to the Living Word Church, in southwest D.C., to talk with her mother, Francine Milton, a schoolteacher, and her stepfather, Ken McClenton, a local radio personality who hosts “The Exceptional Conservative Show.” Charnice lived at home with the couple. (Milton’s father, Charles Gross, died several years ago.) We met in the nave of the church; Ken flicked on the lights to reveal a sea of black chairs, with one near the front draped in a pale sheet to mark the absence of Charnice.

The couple spoke about their daughter’s unlikely path to journalism. As a child, she was unable to speak. Later, she had a severe stutter and symptoms akin to those of Asperger’s. “Growing up, she was teased a lot, because she was chubby and she didn’t speak like anyone else,” Ken told me. “She’d come home crying, and she’d just go into her little shell.” To learn basic social skills, she relied on Disney movies. “She watched and studied ‘Alice in Wonderland’ over and over and over, to learn how to speak—kind of like the way an alien would study TV to find out what to do,” he said.

“If you want to know how her voice sounded, it sounded like Alice,” Francine said.

Video From The New Yorker
Unearthing Black History at the Freedom Lots

All these pieces of her childhood never really went away—the acute shyness, the severe speech troubles, the desire to hole up in her room and burrow into some bookish Wonderland. But Milton honed her craft as an inoculation. Early each morning, she woke to an alarm playing gospel music, made a cup of chai tea, and began cold calls for her latest article: “I’m doing a story. I need to talk to you. When can we meet?”

Often, she’d go out reporting during the day, then type up her notes until three or four in the morning, sending off copy to her editor at the Hill Rag and East of the River, Andrew Lightman. When I spoke to him, Lightman recalled the day that Milton showed up at his office and asked for a job. “I remember thinking, Why on earth does this woman want to be a reporter?” Lightman told me. “Here’s this woman who’s very, very painfully shy, with a pronounced speech impediment.… But I just had a feeling about her.” (Lightman wrote a memorial for the Hill Rag, calling Milton a reporter of rare “tenacity, work ethic, and grit.”) She soon became one of Lightman’s most reliable stringers, showing up to local meetings that others might consider too dull or too small.

On May 27th, Milton was covering a community meeting near Eastern Market. “I’m on my way,” she’d texted her mom as she headed home. Francine thought she’d likely have to pick her daughter up from the bus stop. At 11:15 P.M., there was a banging on Francine and Ken’s front door. It was a D.C. cop asking, “Do you have a daughter named Charnice Milton?”

Francine said that she did.



The next day, D.C.’s chief of police, Cathy Lanier, publicly lamented Milton’s murder as a case of “wrong place, wrong time.” Ken McClenton still chafes at the phrase. On Father’s Day, he nailed forty-four white crosses into the grass of a local park, each representing an unsolved homicide in D.C. The parents of other murder victims joined him. “It’s unfathomable that a city of this size won’t count these lives as important, as all the other lives in the city,” Ken told a local news crew. By the time Ken, Francine, and others finished with their hammers, word arrived that another homicide had occurred. Tonight, Milton's family is organizing an event, beside where she was shot, to call for reducing the number of unresolved homicides in Washington, D.C.

In his new book, “Between the World and Me,” Ta-Nehisi Coates observes that “in America, it is traditional to destroy the black body—it is heritage.” It’s traditional, too, for community journalists to cover the contours of that violent project—think of Ida B. Wells and her dispatches on the barbarities of the Jim Crow age—as well as to save ink for the parts of people’s lives that exist outside and beyond it. Milton found her place in that latter tradition. “She took on topics that other people didn’t think were important,” Francine told me. “And they just became important, because she wrote about them.” She might have covered a vigil like her parents’. Or she might have been busy with public hearings, and with local geeks and students and growers of things.

  • Sarah Stillman is a staff writer at The New Yorker.




One of a number of cases Ken McClenton and I hope to review on Shadesofhumanity.tv


Right now there are 20 people missing from the District alone. 

Including Relisha Rudd. She was only 8 when she went missing on March 1, 2014.



Saturday, October 9, 2010   The Metropolitan Police Department is seeking the public’s assistance in locating a missing person identified as 24-year-old Unique Harris who was last seen on Saturday, October 9, 2010 in the 2400 block of Hartford Street, SE. Ms. Harris is described as a black female, 5’7” tall, weighing approximately 123–130 pounds, with brown eyes, short brown hair, and light complexion. She has tattoos on her lower back and left arm. She was last seen wearing a white shirt and gray pants. Ms. Harris was also wearing a silver chain, approximately 16-20 inches in length. The chain had a broken clasp and was secured with a safety pin.



(CBS/AP) NASHVILLE, Tenn. - Tennessee investigators are trying to locate two children who were initially believed to be dead but their bodies were not found at the scene of a weekend fire at a farmhouse that killed their step-grandparents. The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation issued an endangered child alert on Wednesday for 9-year-old Chloie Leverette and 7-year-old Gage Daniel under "under an abundance of caution." "As time moves on, we don't want to miss our opportunity to locate them if they were not in the house," said TBI spokeswoman Kristin Helm. Bedford County Sheriff Randall Boyce said investigators did find the bodies of 72-year-old Leon McClaran and his 70-year-old wife, Molli McClaran, as well as the remains of a dog. The two children who lived at the house were initially believed to have perished in the intense fire, which firefighters battled overnight Sunday and early Monday. But their remains were not found in the rubble. Investigators said neighbors last saw the children Sunday evening, hours before a fire destroyed the home in Bedford County, about 40 miles southeast of Nashville. Helm said there is no evidence yet that the children were not in the house, but investigators are speaking with family members, friends and people at the children's school. The State Fire Marshal's Office said in a statement "that there are no remains of the two children in the structure. The children's location at this time is unknown." Its investigators will determine a cause. Forensic anthropologists and cadaver dogs searched through the rubble for the bodies and the Tennessee Highway Patrol used a helicopter to search the surrounding area. Family members told The Associated Press that the McClarans were raising their step-grandchildren because the kids needed a home and described the McClarans as generous people who loved their family. Relatives of the McClarans said the girl also used the last name Pope. The state Department of Children's Services investigated the mother of the two children and Daniel's father between 2006 and 2010, said spokesman Brandon Gee. Gee would not release the names of the parents nor say why the parents were investigated. He confirmed that the McClarans had custody of the two children, but he said DCS never took custody of the children nor placed them in a home. First published on September 27, 2012 / 1:35 PM © 2012 CBS Interactive Inc. All Rights Reserved.



Does Mike Chapel deserve a new trial? By: Roger Bredow - Editor Gwinnett Online On September 10,1995, Michael Chapel was sentenced to two life terms plus 5 years for the April 15, 1993 murder of Emogene Thompson. Over the last year no attempt has been made to appeal this verdict by his defense. During this time, an alternate juror on his case, Phil Sullivan of Tucker, GA, waited patiently 6 months, hoping for such appeal to arise. After sitting on the jury 5 1/2 weeks listening to all the testimony he had concluded that Mike must be innocent, only to find out when the jury was sent to chambers he was not one of the jurors who would decide his fate. After six months of waiting he went to work. He prepared an analysis of the defense, then delivered copies to the media, the judge, defense, and prosecution. Still very little response. Then something clicked, he found someone who would listen to his pleas. The National Police Defense Foundation agreed to investigate. They put Boris Korczak on the case, acting as chief investigator he visited Gwinnett County and ran into road block after roadblock. Finally after an exhausting efforts he came to the conclusion Mr. Chapel must be innocent and as a matter of fact the county had willingly covered what evidence that would prove this. I became acquainted with the case when Mr. Korczak and I met on the Gwinnett Online CHAT. At the very least I was skeptical, someone claiming to be a Ex-CIA agent just didn't seem realistic on of all places a CHAT page on the internet let alone on a site so scantly publicized nationally as Gwinnett Online. So I did a bit of investigation myself, and to my utter astonishment this man truly existed. After reviewing Phil and Boris's documents, conducting interviews and researching county records, the only conclusion I have came to is that the public has the right to know the truth, whatever that may be, and if Mr. Korczak findings are accurate Mr. Chapel deserves another trial at the very least. I have compiled a number of documents pertaining to the case. Please feel free to leaf (click) through them. Coverage Index DAILY EVENTS and Discussion Areas: OPEN Discussion Forum - Put your opinions HERE!! Chapel CHAT Related Stories: NEW! August 12, 1997 New Trial Hearing Date Set Chapel Gets Approval For New Defense Team PURSE FOUND, NO BLOOD, NO PRINTS GUN FOUND!, but where is it now? Jan 1,1997 D.A. Danny Porter's Quote Front page Gwinnett Daily Post Jan 1.1997 Personal pleas by the family and friends of Michael Chapel: Open Letter from Eren Chapel to the NPDF Articles from other publications: Reprints from Gwinnett Daily Post: 12/19/96 Editorial Group seeks new trial for convicted cop. By Stacey Kelley Staff Writer Reprints from Atlanta Journal Constitution: "Chapel gains ground in fight for new trial" Gwinnett Extra - Leads sought..... 12/13/96 Sun Dec 01 12:50:07 1996 --The following 20 point banner headline across the entire top of the second page of the Gwinnett "Weeks in Review" section of the Atlanta Journal and Constitution reads as follows: "FOUNDATION LOOKING INTO CHAPEL MURDER CASE" Court TV Casefile Georgia vs. Chapel Gwinnett Loaf - 1/18/97 - "An Innocent Man? National Police Defence Foundation related documents: 8/13/97 Statement of Attorney Randy Mott Rebuttal to Gwinnett Loaf - 1/18/97 - "An Innocent Man?" STATEMENT OF RANDY M. MOTT, ESQ. ATTORNEY FOR MICHAEL CHAPEL Rebuttal to Gwinnett Daily Post Dec. 19, 1996 Editorial Who's Who in America Phil Sullivan's "An Analysis of the Defense of Michael Chapel" Court documents compiled by GOL: Opening Statements from original trial. Gwinnett Online investigative results.




ST. LOUIS, MO (KTVI) - Right now there are hundreds of missing kids all around the St. Louis area. Children are disappearing at an alarming rate, especially in one area – North St. Louis County. In the small community of Berkeley, MO alone, 33 kids have disappeared since 2000. In this report, we`re going to tell you why they're forgotten, what may have happened to them, and what you can do about it. An astounding 219 boys and girls have disappeared from the St. Louis Metro area since 2000 according to our investigation. We compiled names from the Missouri Highway Patrol. We began running names during the search for Monica Sykes, who disappeared from Berkeley. While her name was on the news, many other names have not brought the same attention. Those that have are now faded into the background behind other news events. Phoenix Coldon`s parents still search without the same community support as when she first disappeared December 2011. Lawrence Coldon said, “It`s a terrible, crying, deplorable shame that so many people can come up missing in this country with a country with the type of resources that we have.” Phoenix was recently attending the University of Missouri-Columbia and living in North County. Her dad believes she may have been taken to be sold for sex and that she's alive. 📷 Related Story Police departments are accounting for ‘missing’ kids after Fox Files investigation "I found out where my daughter went missing -- there were three other girls that went missing in the same area where we were living," he said. Advocate Kimberly Ritter said, "There`s a demand for child sex unfortunately." We rode with Ritter who now looks at abandoned buildings as potential hiding places for people who want to enslave children for sex. She said, "You have to be aware because if you pay attention you may be able to save a child." She learned about sex slaves by accident when working as a travel agent for nuns. The Sisters of St. Joseph asked her to train hotel employees how to spot it. A judge this month sentenced Kyle Parks for selling girls out of a St. Charles motel. One was a missing teen from Ohio. Detectives traced her phone to the Red Roof Inn at Zumbehl and I-70. If traffickers and kidnappers are brazen enough to use hotels, Ritter thinks it's likely they're also working in abandoned buildings. "No one comes to a location like this. It is hidden in plain sight," she said. Like an abandoned North St. Louis house that reportedly hid a 12-year-old girl for days. She'd been reported missing after failing to show up at her school bus stop. A suspect now faces charges of kidnapping and sex assault. The backyard shows signs of people hanging out -- food containers and mattresses. Next door you can see another abandoned house. Ritter said, “You never know what's going on in those houses.” We check an abandoned building in North County. We spot kids toys in the debris and another mattress. Ritter talked about the mattress as she said, “This is one of the things I would expect to find in an abandoned house where kids who were homeless, who are taken, kids who are on drugs, laying for the night.” It’s right inside the iconic Lewis and Clark Tower in Moline Acres. It`s condemned. The elevators don't work, but kids walk by and tell us people are upstairs. I asked Ritter, “Why don`t you think police go in these places?” She answered, “Everybody asks me that question. I don`t know.” Hayes followed up, “Because we could find people inside.” Ritter added, “Apparently on the top floor from what they were saying.” You can see the tower from the Moline Acres police station blocks away, but the police chief has no comment about checking inside for people who may need help. Meanwhile, the St. Louis County Police Department has a special investigations unit trained to rescue sex slaves. Sgt. Adam Kavanaugh told me, “We talk to a lot of the girls and a lot of them were just walking down the street, skip school, they're running away, they're walking down the street and then somebody will pull up and say ‘hey where are you headed to?’” During a traffic stop, County officers now know they have to look for more than just signs someone is selling drugs. They're looking for people who may be selling other people. They never know when they might find someone who's been missing. Sgt. Kavanaugh said, “That`s one of those things that my unit pays attention to. We get all of the flyers of the missing girls and then we pay attention to our typical areas (as well as the website) Backpage, internet adds, to see if pictures show up in any of those advertisements.” State Senator Maria Chapelle-Nadal has been one of the few politicians trying to get the public's attention about it. She recently posted on Facebook asking parents to make sure their kids "have a tracking device on their phones. Instruct them to keep it on when they leave the house. This is serious. Over 20 girls have gone missing in a very small local zone." Chapelle-Nadal told me in person, “There are people zeroing in on our young girls -- and men as well -- because they want to capture them and make them part of the sex trade.”

There are 41 children missing right now in Upstate NY



Dozens of children and teens are missing right now from homes across Upstate New York. The New York State Division of Criminal Justice Services' Missing Persons Clearinghouse publishes names and information about those children, in an effort to help investigating police agencies locate them and bring them to safety. The 41 children missing in Upstate New York in March include runaways, kidnapping victims and even the subjects of cold case investigations. If you believe you have seen one of these individuals, you can contact the Missing Persons Clearinghouse at 1-800-346-3543, or submit a lead on their website.



Detail your services


Last seen alive:  December 22, 1990

Circumstances:  Richard was last seen on 12/22/90 leaving the Riverfront Lounge in Allegan City. His vehicle was impounded a few days later from a nearby parking lot. He was reported missing on 12/28/90. To date Richard has not been located. He was 21 years old at the time of her disappearance and would be 40 years old today.

Anyone with information is asked to contact Allegan County Cold Case member, Det. Pat Oreilly at 269-673-0500 ext. 4263 or D/Tpr. Scott Ernstes at 269-792-2213 ext. 346 or via email at silentobserver@allegancounty.org or sheriff@allegancounty.org.

Original Agency: Allegan City Police Department
Original Agency Number: 4336-90
Assisting Agency: Allegan County Sheriff’s Department
Assisting Agency Number: 240-00
NIC # M534712649

First Name:  Richard Eugene Dale  
Middle Name:  Eugene Dale
Last Name:  Hitchcock


Age When Last Known Alive:   21
Race:  White
Sex:  Male
Height:  72.0
Weight:  135.0


City:  Allegan
State:  Michigan
Zip:  49010
County:  Allegan


 Hair:  Red/Auburn
Head Hair:  Bushy read hair.
Eye:  Brown
Scars And Marks:  Possible scars on one of his hands-fingertips from being cut. Possible scar on nose from sinus surgery. Possible scar on one of legs (shin area) from injury as child.
Scar on right hip from a skin graft (hip skin to hand).

Clothing and Accessories

 Clothing:  Last seen wearing: Union Bay white jeans, black t-shirt (Dangerous Toys on it) and a brown leather bomber jacket. Or possibly a blue-striped shirt with white t-shirt underneath.
Footwear:  Last seen wearing: white Nike shoes with purple swoosh on them.
Eyewear:  None.
Accessories:  Keys never found. Key chain was clear epoxy with a scorpion molded within.


His vehicle was recovered from a nearby parking lot a few days after he went missing.
Airline:  None
Bus:  None



George Payton Jr., a well-known black attorney with a reputation for challenging the status quo, was shot to death in his Spring Street office while talking on the telephone about 2 p.m. March 18, 1975. Some said he was killed by a professional hit man because he was representing Hilton Head landowners who were standing in the way of developers from Washington, D.C. Others said he was probably killed by a disgruntled former client. Angel Payton-Harmon was 4 years old when her father was killed. She has spent her life wondering why. “I just want to know the truth,” she said. “If I ever was to come face to face with the person who killed my dad, I would not want them punished. I just want to find out why.” She convinced the Charleston Police Department to assign longtime homicide detective Mike Gordon to the case, as it will be nearly 40 years since her father was killed. “We will simply go out and give it our best effort and hope something comes our way that will move us in the direction to resolve it,” he said. “That’s my big hope, that something new would come up.” The boldness of Payton’s killer was the most striking thing about his murder. His secretary told investigators at the time that a young black man came into the office at 65 Spring St. about 2 p.m., identified himself as James Walker and asked to speak with Payton. While he was sitting in the reception area, he said he had to use the bathroom and walked down a hall that went past Payton’s office. There are conflicting accounts whether the secretary heard gunshots, leading some to speculate the killer used a silencer. The man who called himself Walker walked past the secretary with a gun at his side on his way out the door. Police said Payton died of a single gunshot to his right eye. A .38-caliber slug was imbedded in a cinderblock wall behind the desk. He was dead when he arrived at a hospital emergency room. Payton still had his wallet with $27 cash, a school class ring and a key case with eight keys. Eugene Frazier, a retired Charleston County Police detective who helped investigate Payton’s murder, championed the theory that Payton was killed because of his dealings in Hilton Head. He included the Payton investigation in a book he wrote in 2001, called “From Segregation to Integration: The Making of Black Policemen: A True Story.” Frazier wrote that he was in Payton’s office a few months before his death when he heard the attorney talking on the phone to somebody who seemed to be threatening him. Frazier said he heard Payton say, “You don’t scare me.” Frazier asked him what that was about. Payton said the caller was somebody from Washington, D.C., involved in a land-transaction deal in Hilton Head Island. Frazier wrote that nobody took his theory seriously at the time, and that’s why the case was never solved. Gordon said he initially leaned toward the theory that Payton was killed by a hit man from out of state but has come to believe the killer had local connections. “The Hilton Head angle was investigated pretty thoroughly in 1975 with no conclusions drawn,” Gordon said. “Some additional information obtained in the early 1990s points toward it being more of a local issue, but with no specifics as to names or locations. The 1990s information is very consistent with how the crime occurred, so I have to attach some credibility to the source of the information. I can’t completely rule out Hilton Head, but I believe it’s more local.” Payton-Harmon, a caseworker at Medical University Hospital, said she’s not ruling out other theories for her father’s death. “Apparently my dad was quite the lady’s man,” she said. After he died without a will, his first wife sued the estate, saying they had never been legally divorced. Payton had four children from his first wife. Three of them live in the Tampa area, Payton-Harmon said. The one who lives in Charleston did not respond to requests to talk. Payton-Harmon said she’s not sure if Payton’s other children have any interest in reopening the case. She was born Rivers and changed her name to Payton when she turned 18. She has Payton on her license plate. She has photos and a newspaper article of her dad’s death on her Facebook page. “His name was important to me,” she said. “I just want people to think of my dad.” Reach Dave Munday at 937-5553.



GREENVILLE CO., S.C. (FOX CAROLINA) For several years Candace Brewer has walked Club Road in Greenville County looking for answers. She's knocked on doors and handed out fliers. "It's been 15 years- long and painful years. My brother was my best friend and it's so hard living without him," Brewer said. The house on Club Road is now demolished, but on Monday, she stood in the same space as she did 15 years ago in shock and in tears. She remembers the call she got from her nephew. "He walked in the house and he saw Raja laying on the couch." "Someone went in the home- no sign of forced entry. Someone went in the home and murdered Raja and murdered Andra," Brewer said. Through the years America's Most Wanted featured the victims Andra Rosemond and Rahja Louris on billboards throughout Greenville County. Brewer says early on investigators got some calls, but she says when the billboards went down the phone stopped ringing. "They're not here and it's like a big hole is missing," Brewer said. She says she hasn't learned much about that rainy 2 a.m. deadly shooting that took her loved ones. "The neighbors heard what she thought was a tree falling on the car. But at that time, that's when they actually heard the gunshots," she said. Lt. Ryan Flood is a spokesperson with the Greenville County Sheriff's Office. "We're dealing with two individuals that lost their lives. We're dealing with a homicide right now and that's not fair Flood said. He says investigators need information from the public to heat up the cold case. "It's a case file that's still active with exhausted leads, all we need is one lead," Flood said."We need the whole message to spread to hopefully lay on someone's heart to come forward." For now, Brewer's heart is still broken. "I owe it him and any family to seek justice and I'm going to continue to do that until the day," she said. Those with information in the case can call Crimestoppers at 23-CRIME or at 1-888-CRIME-SC. If the information provided leads to an arrest the tipster could get $2,000. Copyright 2018 FOX Carolina (Meredith Corporation). All rights reserved.