I want you to close your eyes for a second. Imagine,
if you will, a piece of land. It's vast, it's
muddy, and it smells. It smells of manure, of
damp earth, of rusting metal, and of rot. A sweet,
cloying rot that hangs in the heavy Pacific air.
This isn't a farm in the middle of nowhere, miles
from civilization. This is 953 Dominion Avenue
in Port Coquitlam, British Columbia. We are talking
about a location that sits just 27 kilometers
east of Vancouver. That's right. And it's that
geography that makes this story so incredibly
jarring. You have the shadow of a gleaning cosmopolitan,
major city glass towers, ocean views, five -star
sushi restaurants, you know, some of the most
expensive real estate in North America. Right.
And then, less than a half -hour drive away,
you have this squalid, chaotic pig farm. that
became the epicenter of a nightmare. We are diving
deep today into the story of Robert William Pickton.
And I know, I know, you've probably seen the
headlines. You know the name. He's the pig farmer
killer. He is one of, if not the most notorious
serial killer in Canadian history. The numbers
alone are just, they're enough to make your stomach
turn. He was convicted of six murders. He was
charged with 27. But, and here's where it gets
truly chilling. He confessed to 49. And he didn't
just confess to 49. He explicitly stated, you
know, that he wanted to make it an even 50. He
viewed it as a quota he failed to meet. It's
just incredible. Exactly. It's like a project
he didn't finish. But today, our mission isn't
just to recount the gore. We aren't here to just
read a list of crimes or, you know, turn this
into a horror movie script. We want to understand
how. How does a man kill that many women over
that many years while operating a farm that was,
I mean, it was frequently visited by the public,
by biker gangs, and even by the police? That
is a central question. This isn't just a biography
of a monster. It is a case study in systemic
failure. It's about missed opportunities. It's
about legal loopholes. And a society that decided
certain victims, specifically women from Vancouver's
downtown Eastside, were, for all intents and
purposes, invisible. We need to unpack the forensic
nightmare of that farm, the complex legal conclusion
that left so many families feeling cheated, and
really... the background that created robert
picton in the first place we are pulling all
of this from a stack of legal records inquiry
reports and detailed biographical entries we're
going to walk through his life the investigation
the trial and his eventual death in prison just
recently in 2024 so buckle up this is going to
be a heavy one but it's a story that demands
to be understood let's start at the beginning
because monsters aren't usually born they're
made Or at least they're cultivated in specific
soil. Robert William Picton was born in October
1949. His parents were Leonard and Louise. And
by all accounts, this was not a happy home. The
farm environment itself was just harsh. But it
seems like the mother, Louise, was the dominant
force here. Oh, very much so. The sources paint
a picture of a woman who was incredibly demanding.
She was the iron hand of that farm. She prioritized
the livestock over her own children. And I don't
mean that metaphorically. We have reports that
she would force Robert and his brother David
to work these long hours in the muck. And she
simply didn't care about their personal hygiene.
They were tools for the farm, first and foremost.
This is where we get that detail that kind of
sticks with you. You know, the kind of detail
that defines a childhood. Picton and his brother
would be sent to school literally reeking of
manure. They were dirty. And kids, being kids,
were cruel. Of course. He wasn't just the quiet
kid in the back of the class. He was the kid
everyone avoided. He was nicknamed Stinky Piggy.
And that kind of isolation is so critical. If
you are ostracized from your peer group from
the moment you enter the school system, you just...
You retreat. You stop socializing normally. You
don't learn the nuances of human interaction,
of empathy, of friendship. You bond with the
only things that accept you. Which in his case
was the animals. In Picton's case, that was the
animals. But even that bond was betrayed. This
is the story about the calf, isn't it? This feels
like a major psychological turning point. Yes.
This is what psychologists might call the pivot
point. When Picton was 12 years old, he started
raising a calf. He loved this thing. He was a
pet. He bottle fed it. He spent his time with
it. It was likely the only living creature that
he felt a genuine reciprocal connection with.
Right. A real bond. He took care of it for two
weeks. Then he comes home from school one day,
goes to the barn to find his friend, and it's
gone. His parents had slaughtered it. That is
devastating for a 12 -year -old. Just absolutely
brutal. It is. He was distraught. But... If you
look at it through the lens of his future crimes,
it teaches a brutal foundational lesson. Emotional
attachment is dangerous. It gets you hurt. And
it teaches you something else too, right? It
teaches you that living things, things that breathe
and look at you, are ultimately just meat. It
desensitizes you to death. It just completely
blurs the line between a living being and a commodity.
I mean, if the thing you love most can be turned
into dinner by your own parents, what value does
a stranger have? That's a terrifying perspective.
So, OK, he's isolated. He's traumatized. He drops
out of school in 1963. He's essentially functionally
illiterate or close to it. And he goes to work
as a meat cutter. A skill set that becomes horrific
later on. He learns how to dismantle a body.
He learns the anatomy of muscle and bone. He's
literally training for his future crimes without
even knowing it. Right. So he does that for about
seven years, then goes back to the farm full
time. Now let's fast forward to the late 70s.
His parents pass away and suddenly Stinky Piggy
and his brother are sitting on a gold mine. The
real estate boom. This is the irony of the location
we talked about. They inherited the farm, and
as Vancouver expanded, that land became incredibly
valuable. They sold off parts of it to developers
for townhouses and subdivisions. And they made
a fortune. They made about 5 .16 million Canadian
dollars. So these aren't poor, struggling farmers
scratching a living from the dirt anymore. They
are wealthy, land -rich eccentrics. And this
is where the story takes a turn toward the surreal.
They didn't just quietly farm pigs and count
their money. They decided to turn a slaughterhouse
on the property into an ad hoc nightclub. Piggy's
Palace. It sounds like a bad joke, doesn't it?
But it was real. They actually converted a literal
slaughterhouse into a venue. They threw these
huge rave -style parties. We're talking events
attracting up to 2 ,000 people. You had members
of the Hells Angels. You had local business figures.
You had people from the city coming out to this
farm to party in a converted slaughterhouse.
Imagery is just, it's insane. The irony is almost
too much to handle. You have this intersection
of, you know, high society and low society, of
legal and illegal, all happening on a property
soaked in blood. And in 1996, they even registered
a nonprofit charity called the Piggy Palace Good
Time Society. A charity? You're kidding me. A
registered nonprofit. They claimed they were
organizing events for worthy groups, raising
money for charity. But the reality was what?
The reality was unregulated raves. It was a tax
dodge and a way to legitimize the chaos. In fact,
the only reason they got in trouble initially
wasn't because of violence or anything sinister.
It was zoning violations. Right, right. Bureaucracy.
Exactly. The city of Port Coquitlam sued them
because, legally speaking, you can't hold a rave
in a slaughterhouse on agricultural land. They
were flouting the rules, holding these massive
New Year's Eve parties, and eventually... The
charity status was stripped because they couldn't
produce any financial statements. So the government
was watching them, but for all the wrong reasons.
Precisely. They were on the radar for taxes and
zoning, not for murder. But while the music is
playing and the bikers were drinking at Piggy's
Palace, something much darker was already happening
in the background. And this brings us to what
you've called the critical missed opportunity.
This is the moment where history could have been
different. If you were listening to this and
asking, why wasn't he stopped? This is the year
you need to look at. 1997. March 23, 1997. Picton
is 47 years old. A woman named Wendy Lynn Eistetter
is at the farm. She is a sex worker Picton had
picked up in Vancouver. And an altercation occurs.
A violent one. Eistetter told police that Picton
handcuffed her. He pulled a knife. He stabbed
her. But Wendy Lynn Eistetter was a fighter.
She was. She managed to disarm him. She took
his own knife and stabbed him with it. She fought
for her life. That is incredible. She saved her
own life. She did. They both ended up in the
hospital. Picton went to Eagle Ridge Hospital.
She went to a nearby emergency room. And the
police got involved. This wasn't a secret. Picton
was charged with attempted murder. Okay, so let's
pause and look at the board here. We have a woman
with stabbed wounds. We have handcuffs dangling
from her wrist. And a stabbing victim who is
also the perpetrator in the hospital. This seems
like an open and shut case to get this guy off
the streets. He was charged. He was. He was released
on a $2 ,000 bond. But he was facing serious
time. I mean, attempted murder is a major charge.
But then, in January 1998, the charges were stayed.
They were dropped. They were dropped. Why? How
on earth does that happen? Because Wendy Lynn
Eistetter struggled with drug addiction. The
prosecutors looked at her and decided that she
was too unstable to secure a conviction. They
didn't think a jury would believe her or they
didn't think she could hold up on the stand under
a tough cross -examination. So they didn't think
she was a credible witness. They looked at her
history, her lifestyle, and they decided she
wasn't a credible witness. They thought Pickton's
lawyer would tear her apart and he'd walk anyway,
so he just dropped it. So because she was an
addict, they let a man who handcuffed and stabbed
her walk free. Precisely. And this is the systemic
bias we talked about. The legal system looked
at the perfect victim profile, saw that Eyesteader
didn't fit it, and decided it wasn't worth the
risk of a trial. And just think about the timeline.
This is early 1998, Pickton's most active period
of killing, the time when the vast majority of
women disappeared, was between the late 90s and
2001. That is just heartbreaking. If they had
prosecuted him in 1997, even if he got a few
years, a plea deal, anything. Dozens of women
might still be alive. It is the single most tragic
what if in this entire case. And just to add
a layer of forensic frustration to this. Oh,
there's more. When they arrested him in 1997,
after that attack, they seized the clothes and
the rubber boots he was wearing. They put them
in an RCMP storage locker. Standard procedure.
And they just sat there. They sat there. For
years. In 2004, when the full investigation was
finally underway, they went back and tested those
items. They found the DNA of two later victims,
Andrea Borhaven and Kara Ellis, on those boots
and clothes. Wait, wait. Unpack that timeline
for me. The DNA of victims was on the clothes
he wore during the 1997 attack. Well, let's look
at the dates. Borhaven was last seen in March
1997. Ellis was reported missing in January 1997.
So these women were likely already dead or had
been attacked right around the same time as the
Ice Center incident. So the evidence linking
him to at least two murders was literally in
the police's possession. It was in a box in an
evidence locker. It was right there. But because
they dropped the Eisstetter case, nobody ever
looked at it. The file was closed. The evidence
was forgotten. That is infuriating. It really
highlights how the system failed on every single
level. The evidence was right there. So, OK,
Pickton is free. He's back at the farm. And the
disappearances start ramping up. We are moving
into the late 90s now. Women are vanishing from
the downtown east side of Vancouver. Now, for
listeners who don't know the DTES or downtown
east side, it's a very specific neighborhood.
It has historically struggled with high poverty,
high rates of drug use, and a large population
of sex workers. It's a vulnerable community.
A deeply vulnerable community, often described
as one of the poorest postal codes in the country,
a place where people can fall through the cracks
very easily. And rumors started flying, didn't
they? The women on the street, they knew something
was wrong. They always know first. The community
on the street talks. There was talk of a serial
killer. There was talk of a pig farm. There was
talk of a man named Willie. But the police were
incredibly slow to connect the dots. Why, though,
were they just not listening? They treated these
as individual runaway cases. Or they assumed
the women had just moved on or gone back home
to their families or maybe overdosed somewhere
and hadn't been found yet. There was this prevailing
attitude that this was just the lifestyle. That
this was normal for those people. That's the
ugly truth of it, yes. But there were tips. It's
not like no one was saying anything to the authorities.
No, this wasn't just vague rumor. Not at all.
An employee at the farm actually found purses
belonging to missing women and reported it. Purses?
That's a trophy. And the police did what? They
conducted searches, but initially found no evidence.
They'd go out, look around, picked and would
give them some story, and they'd leave. Then
in 1999, they received a tip that Pickton had
a freezer full of human flesh. A freezer full
of human flesh. That is not a subtle tip. That
is a neon sign flashing murder. It was ignored,
or at least not acted upon with the urgency it
required. They interviewed him again. They looked
around, but they didn't have that smoking gun
or perhaps the will to tear the place apart.
And he was good at playing dumb, wasn't he? He
was. I'm just dinky piggy. He leaned into that
persona. He played the dumb farmer card very
well. He acted like this simpleton who wouldn't
hurt a fly, just a guy trying to run a farm and
help people out. And it seems the police bought
it. So how did it finally break? Because eventually
they did catch him, but my understanding is that
it wasn't a brilliant homicide detective finally
cracking the toad. It wasn't some Sherlock Holmes
moment. No. It was a fluke. Or rather, it was
a completely different department looking for
something else entirely. February 6, 2002. The
police execute a search warrant at the Picton
property. Okay. But they aren't looking for bodies.
They are looking for illegal firearms. Guns,
of course. Exactly. They had reliable info on
illegal weapons. So the tactical team goes in.
And while they are searching for guns, they start
seeing things in plain sight. Personal items.
IDs. Inhalers. Things that belonged to the women
who had been reported missing, whose faces were
in the news. It's almost like the universe finally
forced their hand. They trip over the evidence
while looking for something else. They did. This
triggered a second warrant, this time for the
B .C. missing women investigation. They sealed
off the farm. Pickton was arrested initially
on the weapons charges, then released under surveillance,
and then rearrested on February 22, 2002, charged
with two counts of murder. And that opened the
floodgates. It began what became the largest,
most complex, and most expensive crime scene
investigation in Canadian history. I want to
talk about the scale of this excavation. Because
when you say search the farm, people might picture
a few cops with shovels and maybe a sniffer dog.
That is not what happened here. No. This was
an industrial operation. A forensic archaeology
dig, basically. The cost ran to about 70 million
Canadian dollars by the end of 2003. 70 million?
Yeah. They had to bring in forensic anthropologists.
heavy equipment, and essentially dismantle the
entire property. They took the farm apart piece
by piece, soil by soil. They used conveyor belts,
right? I remember seeing pictures of that. Two
50 -foot conveyor belts. They were running soil
sifters 24 -7. They were literally sifting the
earth of the farm, bucket by bucket, looking
for bone fragments, teeth. jewelry, anything
that could identify a victim. They demolished
the buildings. The property was fenced off and
became this grim fortress of forensic science.
And the reason they had to go to such lengths
is because of the nature of the remains. We aren't
talking about intact bodies buried in shallow
graves where you can just dig them up. This is
the darkest part of the deep dive. And listeners
need to be prepared for this. The bodies were
rarely intact. They were dismembered. They were
decomposed. They had been ravaged by insects.
Horrific as it is to say, they had been eaten
by the pigs. He used the animals. He used the
farm animals as a method of disposal. It's an
ancient, brutal way to get rid of a body. There
was a public health warning issued about this,
wasn't there? This became a whole other level
of horror for the public. Yes. In March 2004,
the revelation came out. The government warned
that Picton may have ground up human remains
and mix them with the pork he sold to the public.
He sold the meat. To people. He had friends.
He had parties at Piggy's Palace. He sometimes
distributed meat to neighbors or associates.
The province's health authority had to issue
a warning that human remains might have entered
the food supply. My God. Just think about the
psychological impact of that on the community.
It's the stuff of nightmares. But it was real
life in British Columbia. People had to wonder
if they had unknowingly participated in cannibalism.
It's a level of violation that is hard to even
comprehend. It's absolute grotesquery. It really
shows the level of depravity we are dealing with.
And inside his trailer, the specific items they
found, it paints a picture of a man who was deeply,
deeply disturbed. It's a chaotic collection of
violence and bizarre fetish items. They found
a loaded .22 revolver. But on the barrel, he
had attached a dildo. Oh, dildo. He claimed it
was a makeshift silencer. That always won't work.
No. Experts, of course, said that's impossible.
It wouldn't work at all. The gas expansion would
just blow it apart. But the imagery, the sexual
object combined with the lethal weapon, it speaks
volumes about his pathology. It merges sex and
death in a very literal, visual way. What else?
Night vision goggles. Two pairs of faux fur -lined
handcuffs. A syringe containing blue liquid.
Blue liquid? What was that? Windshield washer
fluid. And there was a video linked to the investigation
where a friend of Picton's discussed killing
addicts by injecting them with washer fluid.
It's a cruel, painful way to die. It causes kidney
failure, blindness, agonizing pain. So this was
a murder weapon in waiting. It seems so. And
there was Spanish fly, which is a supposed aphrodisiac.
The whole trailer was just a toolkit for predation.
Exactly. He was equipped to hunt, to trap, and
to kill. It wasn't accidental. It was prepared.
So they have the farm. They have the DNA coming
in from the sifting. They have the weapons. But
they need him to talk. And Picton, despite playing
the fool, was cagey. How did they get the confession?
They used a classic technique, the cellmate stratagem.
In Canada, this is often associated with Mr.
Big Stings. But here it was a more direct cell
plant. They placed Picton in a cell with an undercover
RCMP officer posing as another detainee. The
old, I'm a criminal too, you can trust me routine.
And it worked perfectly. Picton started talking.
He wanted to impress this fellow criminal. He
started bragging. He confessed to 49 murders.
49. 49. And the detail that chills everyone to
the bone. The one that everyone remembers from
this case. He told the undercover officer that
he wanted to make it an even 50. He said he got
sloppy at the end. Sloppy. He felt that because
he was caught, he had failed his goal. Not that
he felt guilt. Not that he was sorry for the
lives he took. But that he was inefficient. He
was aiming for a round number. A milestone. It
shows a complete and total lack of humanity.
That brings us to the charges. With a confession
of 49, you'd expect 49 charges. But that's not
how it went down, is it? No, not at all. The
Crown eventually laid 27 charges of first -degree
murder. The victims fit a profile, sex workers,
many of them indigenous women. But the legal
process is slow and complex. They couldn't try
all 27 at once. Why not? I mean, if he killed
them, try him for them. It seems straightforward
to a layperson. It's about logistics and the
jury. The trial judge, Justice James Williams,
made a very controversial decision. He severed
the charges. He divided them into one group of
six and another group of 20. So they would have
two separate trials. That was the plan. The logic
was that trying 27 murders in one go would take
years. It would completely overwhelm the jury.
There's a legal concept called cognitive load.
Right. The evidence would be so voluminous that
it might lead to a mistrial or a hung jury because
the jurors simply couldn't keep track of the
details of 27 separate cases, 27 different sets
of forensic evidence. So they picked six cases
that they felt were the strongest and most representative
to proceed with first. Who were the six? I think
it's important we say their names. These were
the women whose cases went to court in 2006.
So the trial happens. The jury hears about the
wood chipper, the pig rendering, the DNA. They
hear that Tate confession. And in December 2007,
they come back with a verdict. And it wasn't
exactly what people expected. No, they found
him not guilty of first degree murder. Wait,
unpack that. Not guilty of first degree after
all of that. But guilty of second degree murder
on all six counts. OK, so what's the difference
here for the listener, legally speaking? First
degree implies premeditation and planning for
the specific act of murder. So planning and deliberate.
Second degree is still intentional murder. But
the jury perhaps wasn't convinced beyond a reasonable
doubt that every single act was preplanned to
the degree the law requires for first degree.
Or maybe something else. Or, and this is a theory
legal scholars discuss, they might have believed
he had help. If he was an accomplice or if the
specific mechanics of the killing were unclear,
they might have landed on second degree as the
safer conviction to ensure he didn't walk free
on a technicality. But the sentence, what did
that mean for his prison time? The sentence was
effectively the same. Life in prison with no
possibility of parole for 25 years. That is the
maximum penalty under Canadian law for murder,
whether it's first or second degree. So in terms
of time served, it didn't matter. He was going
away forever. But it mattered to the families
and it mattered a great deal for their other
20 charges. Huge implications. Because he was
now serving the maximum sentence, the Crown made
a decision in 2010. They stayed the remaining
20 charges. They just dropped them after all
that. Essentially. Their reasoning was pragmatic,
if cold. He is already in prison for life. A
second trial would cost millions of dollars,
drag on for another year or more. And even if
he was convicted on all 20 counts, he couldn't
serve any more time. You can't serve consecutive
life sentences in Canada in a way that extends
the parole ineligibility indefinitely beyond
a Hughton point. I can just hear the listeners
right now screaming at their speakers. What about
justice for those 20 families? That was exactly
the reaction. It was very mixed. Some families
were relieved they didn't have to sit through
a gruesome trial and hear how their daughters
were butchered. But many others felt denied.
They felt their loved ones became a footnote.
They didn't get their day in court. They didn't
get their day in court. They didn't get a verdict
for their specific daughter or sister. It reinforced
that feeling that these women, even in death,
didn't matter as much to the system. Precisely.
And that brings us to the aftermath. Because
you can't have a disaster of this magnitude,
a failure this complete, without someone eventually
saying sorry. Right, the police apology. In 2010,
Vancouver Police Deputy Chief Doug Leppard issued
an apology. It was surprisingly candid for a
police statement. He said, I wish we would have
caught him sooner. I would say to the families
how sorry we all are because we did not catch
this monster sooner. It's a powerful quote, admitting
that they failed to catch a monster. Words are
wind, as they say. We needed an inquiry to really
dig into the why. And we got one. The Missing
Women Commission of Inquiry, led by a former
judge, Wally Opal. This is established to answer
the question we started with, how? How did this
happen? And what did Opal find? Was it just incompetence?
He confirmed what everyone in the downtown Eastside
already knew. It wasn't just incompetence. There
was a distinct systemic police bias. He found
that the police failed to pursue the case despite
overwhelming evidence because of who the victims
were. Drug addicts, sex workers, indigenous women.
Yes. The lesser dead, as criminologists sometimes
call it. A horrible term. A horrible but accurate
term for how they were treated. The inquiry highlighted
that these crimes were treated as low priority.
If women were disappearing from a wealthy suburb
like West Vancouver, or if university students
were vanishing, the response would have been
instantaneous and massive. But because it was
the DTES, it was slow, it was disjointed, it
was prejudiced. There were civil lawsuits too,
right? The children of the victims sued? They
did. They sued the police and the Crown for negligence.
They settled in 2014. Each child received $50
,000 Canadian dollars. $50 ,000 for the loss
of a mother and the systemic failure to protect
her. It feels like a token amount. It acknowledges
the wrong, but it hardly compensates for the
loss. It's a bureaucratic apology written on
a check. Pickton is in prison. He's serving his
life sentence. He's the pig farmer killer in
the history books. But the story didn't end in
2010. It actually had a very recent and very
violent conclusion. Yes. We have to fast forward
to 2024. February 2024 specifically, Robert Pickton
became eligible for day parole. That must have
been terrifying for the families, just seeing
that in the news. It caused immense distress.
Now, it's important to note, eligible doesn't
mean getting out. Given his crimes, no parole
board in the country would have released him.
No hearing was even scheduled. He likely never
would have seen the light of day. But just the
fact that the date arrived on the calendar was
a re -traumatization. It reminded everyone that
he was still there. Still breathing. But he didn't
make it much past that date. No. In May 2024,
Pickton was at the Port Cartier Institution in
Quebec, a maximum security prison. He was attacked.
By another inmate? By another inmate, a man named
Martin Cherist, a man with a history of assaulting
other prisoners. And the details of the attack
are, well, they're grimly ironic in their brutality.
Yeah. Cherist used a broken broomstick handle.
He shoved it into Pickton's face, specifically
up his nose. That is visceral, a very specific
kind of violence. It caused massive internal
damage to his brain. Pickton was airlifted to
a hospital, but he died on May 31, 2024, from
complications of the injury. And the assailant,
Cherist, what happened to him? He was charged
with first -degree murder. He pleaded guilty.
And his statement was simple. He said he did
it for the victims. A kind of vigilante justice
ending to a saga of legal failures. In a way,
yes. It brings a definitive end to the life of
Robert Pickton. There is a sense of finality
now. He can no longer hurt anyone. But it doesn't
close the wound of the systemic issues that let
him get away with it for so long. So let's wrap
this up. We have six convictions, 27 charges,
49 confessed murders, a $70 million crime scene,
a farm that became a graveyard. And a legacy
that really helped fuel the missing and murdered
Indigenous women movement in Canada. That is
the one positive legacy, if we can call it that.
It forced Canada to look in the mirror. It forced
the government and the public to acknowledge
that there is a crisis of violence against Indigenous
women that goes ignored. It started conversations
that were long, long overdue. I want to leave
the listener with a thought. We talked about
1997. We talked about Wendy Lynn Eistetter. The
charges were dropped because the witness was
an addict. She was unstable. If the system had
listened to her. If they had valued her testimony
despite her addiction. If they had seen her as
a human being who was attacked, not just a label.
Pickton would have been behind bars before the
vast majority of those 49 murders happened. The
system chose to ignore a flawed witness and in
doing so condemned dozens of women to the most
horrible fate imaginable. It's a harsh lesson.
Credibility shouldn't be based on social standing
or your bank account or whether you're sober.
Truth is truth. regardless of who speaks it.
So here's the question for you to mull over as
you go about your day. In today's world right
now, who are the people whose disappearances
might still go unnoticed? Who are the unstable
witnesses we are ignoring today? Because history
has a nasty habit of repeating itself if we don't
watch the shadows. It certainly does. Yeah. We
have to keep watching. Thank you for joining
us on this difficult deep dive. It wasn't easy,
but it was necessary. Thank you. Stay safe out
there.