August 10, 2025 • 39 mins
Born into a tumultuous marriage between Emory and Elva Moad in the midst of the Great Depression, Neota Green’s childhood was marked by physical and emotional abuse. The shocking violence that Elva endured at the hands of her husband set the stage for the unraveling of the Moad family—and for the tragedy that would unfold years later.
The episode dives deep into the harrowing details of Neota’s death on March 24, 1963, a night that began with a social outing and ended in a devastating house fire. As investigators uncovered grisly evidence, including blunt-force trauma to Neota’s head and a suspicious blaze that may have been set to cover up a murder, all signs pointed to Neota's companion that night—Ronnie Blankenship, a married man with deep connections to Fort Worth’s elite circles.
Despite the mounting evidence, Blankenship was acquitted, leaving questions about Neota’s death unanswered. Was it a crime of passion, a tragic accident, or something darker, buried in mafia connections and buried secrets?
If you have any information about the death of Neota Moad Green, please contact the Tarrant County Sheriff’s Office at 817-884-1213.
You can support gone cold and listen to the show ad-free at patreon.com/gonecoldpodcast
Find us at https://www.gonecold.com
For Gone Cold merch, visit https://gonecold.dashery.com
Follow gone cold on Facebook, Instagram, Threads, TikTok, YouTube, and X.
Search @gonecoldpodcast at all or just click linknbio.com/gonecoldpodcast
Sources: The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, The Dallas Morning News, and The Tyler Morning Telegraph.
#JusticeForNeotaGreen #Benbrook #FortWorth #TX #Texas #TrueCrime #TexasTrueCrime #ColdCase #TrueCrimePodcast #Podcast #ColdCase #Unsolved #Murder #UnsolvedMurder #UnsolvedMysteries #Homicide #CrimeStories #PodcastRecommendations #CrimeJunkie #MysteryPodcast #TrueCrimeObsessed #CrimeDocs #InvestigationDiscovery #PodcastAddict #TrueCrimeFan #CriminalJustice #ForensicFiles
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/gone-cold-texas-true-crime--3203003/support.
The episode dives deep into the harrowing details of Neota’s death on March 24, 1963, a night that began with a social outing and ended in a devastating house fire. As investigators uncovered grisly evidence, including blunt-force trauma to Neota’s head and a suspicious blaze that may have been set to cover up a murder, all signs pointed to Neota's companion that night—Ronnie Blankenship, a married man with deep connections to Fort Worth’s elite circles.
Despite the mounting evidence, Blankenship was acquitted, leaving questions about Neota’s death unanswered. Was it a crime of passion, a tragic accident, or something darker, buried in mafia connections and buried secrets?
If you have any information about the death of Neota Moad Green, please contact the Tarrant County Sheriff’s Office at 817-884-1213.
You can support gone cold and listen to the show ad-free at patreon.com/gonecoldpodcast
Find us at https://www.gonecold.com
For Gone Cold merch, visit https://gonecold.dashery.com
Follow gone cold on Facebook, Instagram, Threads, TikTok, YouTube, and X.
Search @gonecoldpodcast at all or just click linknbio.com/gonecoldpodcast
Sources: The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, The Dallas Morning News, and The Tyler Morning Telegraph.
#JusticeForNeotaGreen #Benbrook #FortWorth #TX #Texas #TrueCrime #TexasTrueCrime #ColdCase #TrueCrimePodcast #Podcast #ColdCase #Unsolved #Murder #UnsolvedMurder #UnsolvedMysteries #Homicide #CrimeStories #PodcastRecommendations #CrimeJunkie #MysteryPodcast #TrueCrimeObsessed #CrimeDocs #InvestigationDiscovery #PodcastAddict #TrueCrimeFan #CriminalJustice #ForensicFiles
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/gone-cold-texas-true-crime--3203003/support.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
Gone Cold podcasts may contain violent or graphic subject matter.
Listener discretion is advised before the murder of Neoda Green,
before the headlines, the flames, the courtroom drama, and the
long silence that settled in afterward. We need to go back.
Neioda came into this world in nineteen thirty five, the
(00:23):
daughter of Emery and Elva Mode, a young couple married
during the Great Depression, in a time and place that
did not recognize a wife's right to safety, to dignity,
or even to ownership of her own pain. Nioda wasn't
born into a home. She was born into a battlefield
disguised as a household. She was born in violence, and
(00:46):
decades later she would die in it too. You're listening
to Gone Cold, Texas True Crime. I'm vincent and this
(01:07):
is born into violence, the case of Neoda Green. In
nineteen thirty one, Elva Shearer, a young woman from the
unincorporated community of Chisholmville, Arkansas, married Emery Earl Mode in Greery, Oklahoma.
She was eighteen, he was twenty and the son of
(01:29):
Reverend Charles Samuel Mode, a local minister. From the outside,
their union might have looked ordinary for its time, but
inside the walls of their home it was something else entirely.
Elva would later testify under oath to a packed courtroom
that the abuse started almost immediately. Within five days of
(01:52):
their wedding. She said, Emery became angry with her in bed,
began hitting her, choking her, and refusing to let her leave.
I cried and cried, she would tell a jury. More
than a decade later, when she became pregnant with her
first child, Ilova, Emory slapped her, choked her, and knocked
(02:14):
her to the floor. The first time she proudly took
her baby daughter to meet Emory's parents, she came home
to a beating. Emory told her she had made a
fool of herself over the baby, that it wasn't something
to be proud of because it was a girl. He
wanted a boy. By the time Neota was born in
(02:35):
nineteen thirty five, Elva had already endured multiple beatings and
even a miscarriage due to the abuse. The family had
moved to Cisco, Texas in the spring of nineteen thirty two,
a small oil and railroad town steeped in traditional values.
In Cisco, what went on behind closed doors, stayed there,
(02:59):
and what a man to do his wife in private
wasn't considered criminal. It was considered a part of marriage.
Police didn't often intervene in domestic disputes. There were no shelters,
no restraining orders, no safe exits for women like Elva,
and Emery knew it. Standing over Elva with her face
(03:21):
swollen and eyes red from crying, he once told police
that she was his wife, this was his house. He
could fight her if he wanted, and nobody, not neighbors,
not the law, was going to stop him. Multiple witnesses
later described horrifying assaults. Emory's sister in law watched him
(03:41):
knock a coffee cup from Elva's hands, hit her with
his fist, breaking her teeth in the process, and then
shout that he didn't give a damn if he broke
her head. Once he dragged her naked across the sun porch,
then threw her into the bathtub and out again like
a rubber ball, and still Elva stayed. What else could
(04:03):
she do? This was a time when women had no
legal autonomy, not really, abuse wasn't a legal reason for divorce.
Women couldn't even open a bank account without their husband's approval,
Elva had nowhere to go. By the mid nineteen forties,
Emery and Elva Mode's marriage was unraveling. In nineteen forty four,
(04:28):
Emory deeded a piece of property to Elva, likely during
divorce proceedings, but the couple reconciled. If Elva thought that
meant the violence would end, she was wrong. It continued
and finally culminated, perhaps in the only way it could
have a death. On August thirty first, nineteen forty nine,
(04:51):
she was treated by a doctor for a gash above
her eye, a swollen cheek, and a badly bruised shoulder.
The couple separate again. Then came Sunday, September fourth. In
the early morning hours of that day, Irene Mode testified
that she and her husband, Emory's brother Roy, had just
(05:13):
closed their restaurant around two thirty am when they spotted
Elva driving through Cisco with Joe Lee Moore, the town pharmacist.
They began to follow her and picked up Emory along
the way. The pursuit lasted nearly five hours, with Irene
and Roy claiming to spot Elva's car at least four times.
(05:35):
Around five am, Emory appeared on Elva's porch and told her,
you've been caught. I've got witnesses. Not long after, Elva
reportedly threw a rock at Roy and Irene's car. She
was at her wits end. At five thirty am, Elva
went to Roy and Irene's house and spoke with her
(05:55):
mother in law. She said Emory's relatives had been harassing
her all night, that she threw a rock at them
and was only sorry she missed. Elva told the woman
to pass along a message that Roy and Irene should
keep their noses out of her business and that she
could whip all three of them with one hand. Roy
(06:16):
said he and Emory returned home around seven am and
went to sleep. At twelve thirty pm, Emory woke Roy,
claiming he had spoken with Elva and that she was
coming to kill them. Emory left the house shortly after.
According to Elva, he drove up over a neighbor's sidewalk,
(06:36):
parked near her house and threatened her again. Emory, for
God's sake, leave me alone, she told him, but he
replied he'd get out of the car and beat her
to death. Elva didn't take the threat lightly. She knew
what he was capable of. She with her face already
bruised and her arm in a sling, said that as
(06:59):
Emory reached the door, she shot him. Emory drove back
to Roy's house within eight minutes of the shooting, yelling
from his car that Elva had got him three or
four times and that he was dying. His sister in law, Irene,
drove him to the hospital, arriving at around one point
fifteen pm. Neighbors would later tell police they had overheard
(07:22):
Elva yelling on the phone earlier saying that she had
gotten a gun. Emory was shot twice, and one bullet
went through his lung, diaphragm, and liver. He lived just
long enough to talk. In a deathbed interview with the
Cisco Justice of the Piece W. E. Brown, Emory gave
(07:44):
his version of events. He said he told Elva over
the phone that he wanted to talk with her about
a divorce and property settlement, and told her he'd give
her the divorce as soon as he could get the money.
Emory said he later saw Elva on the street and
she told him, come on over here. I can whip
you with this one hand. He said he told her
(08:06):
he loved her and always had that he had taken
good care of her. I still love you, he said,
he proclaimed, But he continued, Elva replied, I hate you.
I hate you. Then she drew a pistol from her
arm sling and shot him from the first time just
as Pece Brown spoke to Elva, He said he thought
(08:29):
the shooting was justified. Brown told Elva he did not
intend to file charges against her and instructed her to
go home. He reportedly told her she should have shot
him a long time ago. That evening, however, Judge Floyd
Jones charged her with assault with intent to murder. Elva
(08:51):
was released from the Eastland County Jail under a one
thousand dollars bond on the assault charge. On Tuesday, September sixth,
nineteen forty nine. Elva returned to the hospital and stayed
there until the night of the ninth. She complained of
the same pain and injuries she had suffered at the
hands of Emery Mode on August thirty. First. The pain
(09:14):
in her right wrist. Her fingers were also badly bruised.
Emery died at eleven ten am that morning. The charges
against Elva changed from assault with intent to murder to
plane murder. Elva was indicted on September fourteenth, nineteen forty nine.
(09:47):
The trial of Elva Mode for the murder of her
estranged husband, Emery Mode, was a local spectacle. The courtroom
was packed mostly with women over forty five, many sitting
through the lunch breaks to avoid missing a single word,
and what they heard was shocking. Elva took the stand
(10:08):
for a total of eight hours. She detailed thirty five
separate instances of abuse across eighteen years of marriage. She
told of beatings during pregnancy, emotional humiliation, control, and isolation.
Elva admitted she wasn't perfect. Once she said she had
(10:29):
hit Emery with a baseball bat and once threw a
chair at him, but those things were done in self
defense instead of instigation. She said she was never responsible
for any of the trouble with her husband. It always
started with Emery. During the trial, the prosecutor asked, you
(10:50):
still loved him after thirty five beatings. Yes, she responded,
you can't kill love. The case went to the defense.
They built it on self defense. The jury heard Emery's
dying words, saw the bruises on Elva's body, and understood
if not legally, then morally that the woman had little choice.
(11:14):
After ten minutes of deliberation, they acquitted Elva Mode of
the charges. Defense attorneys called it the quickest verdict in
Eastland County history. Elva Mode would go on to own
and run a restaurant in Cisco. She never remarried. Her
name faded from the headlines, but her story never really
(11:37):
went away, not for Elva's daughter, Neoda, and decades later,
in nineteen sixty three, Neoda would die violently, nude, beaten,
and left to burn in her own home. An accused
man walked free. When it was all said and done,
and the fire still burns cold. Let's go back to
(11:59):
the beginning. Neoda Mode was born on July twentieth, nineteen
thirty five, in Cisco, Texas. She was the youngest daughter
of Emery and Elva Mode, and she grew up with
one sister, Elova. Cisco was a small Eastland County town
where faith, family, and reputation held significant weight. By all accounts,
(12:24):
Nioda was a talented and spirited young woman at Cisco
High School. She played the coronet in the band and
was a majorrette. Those who knew her described her as
vivacious and proud, a young woman with a commanding presence
and strong will. In nineteen fifty four, she graduated from
(12:45):
Cisco High and earned a Twirling scholarship to Texas Christian University.
During the nineteen fifty four nineteen fifty five school year,
she became a purple majorette with the Horned Frog Band.
College life wouldn't last long. Sometime after her junior year,
Neoda left college and married William Henry dude Green, a
(13:10):
man who would later be described in media accounts as
a fort Worth gambler. The couple would go on to
have two children, Cynthia Lee and Bartley Allen. By the
late nineteen fifties, Niota and dude Green had settled in Benbrook,
a quiet suburb just southwest of Fort Worth. They moved
(13:32):
into a modern brick home at eight thousand and one
Chapin Road, valued at thirty five thousand dollars equal to
about four hundred thousand dollars in twenty twenty five. At
the time, the house was a symbol of stability and
a fresh start, if not a foot in the door
of a comfortable middle class life, but behind the idyllic
(13:54):
suburban image change was coming. In late October nineteen sixty
Nyoda filed for divorce from Dude. The split was finalized
on January thirteenth, nineteen sixty three. Afterward, Neoda began working
as a barmaid at the Tempo Club, a private member's
(14:15):
only spot on Camp Bouie Boulevard. It was there through
her job that she met Ronnie Blankenship, a man from
a prominent fort Worth family with deep ties to race horses,
real estate, construction, trucking, and lumber. A new chapter in
Nioda's life was unfolding, but it wouldn't lead where anyone expected.
(14:40):
After her shift, on the night of Saturday, March twenty third,
nineteen sixty three, twenty seven year old Neeoda Green went
out with Ronnie Blankenship, a tall, thirty year old, dark
haired building contractor. Ronnie was married at the time to
a woman named Jane. The couple had a young sol
(15:00):
and while he would later claim they were separated, one
thing is clear. He and Niota had spent time together
socially for several days leading up to that night. According
to later testimony, the two joined at times by others,
including Helen Shaver and Helen Rickey visited several bars on
the west side of Fort Worth. These included the Tempo
(15:23):
Club where Neoda worked, the Town Pump on University Drive,
and the Key Room at the Western Hills Hotel. Witnesses
later described the mood as social but awkward. Helen Shaver
later testified that Blankenship made multiple sexual suggestions to Neoda
throughout that evening. He reportedly told her she needed a
(15:46):
relationship with a man to calm her down, and even
nicknamed her frigid Missus. Ricky also said that Ronnie at
one point wanted to go home with her, but Nyoda refused. Used.
She described Neoda as intoxicated when she left them at
the Key Club about closing time, Neoda left the nightclub
(16:10):
with Ronnie. They returned to her home on Shape and
Road sometime around one thirty am. At around four thirty
am on Sunday, March twenty fourth, nineteen sixty three, a
teenage newspaper carrier named James Hargrove noticed flames shooting from
the back of Neeoda Green's house. He was preparing to
(16:33):
start his morning paper route when he spotted the blaze. Alarmed,
he woke his father, Jay Gordon Hargrove, and the two
rushed over. James broke a window in an attempt to
get inside, but was overwhelmed by the thick smoke. Firefighters
soon arrived and began battling the intense fire. Ben Brooke
(16:55):
Assistant fire Chief H. E. Brown described the heat and
smoke as unbearable. Inside the house, firefighters found a shocking scene.
In the dining area of the three bedroom home. They
discovered Neoda Green's nude body, face up on the floor.
She had been badly burned. Nearby, in one of the
(17:18):
front bedrooms, they found Ronnie Blankenship, also nude, lying face down.
He was initially believed to be dead, but was revived
with oxygen and taken to White Settlement Hospital. Ronnie had
suffered smoke inhalation and minor burns. An autopsy on Neeoda's
(17:39):
body revealed grim details. She had suffered three blows to
the head. One blow caused a three inch fracture to
the back of her skull. There were also injuries to
her face and mouth. Though Neoda had inhaled smoke, the
medical examiner concluded that the head trauma had rendered her
(17:59):
on conscious before the fire, which she likely would have escaped. Otherwise,
the pathologist ruled her death a homicide. At the scene,
police found a heavy glass ash tray chipped and broken
into three pieces. Investigators believed it might be the weapon
used in the attack. Also recovered was a frying pan
(18:23):
with the handle burned off, though its role in the crime,
if any, was unclear. Luckily, Neota's children were not at home.
They had been left with a babysitter earlier that evening.
The investigation into Neoda Greene's death began immediately, led by
ben Brook Police Chief J. E. Prince, with support from
(18:46):
the Tarrant County Sheriff's Office and the District Attorney's office.
From the outset, one thing was clear. This wasn't just
a tragic accidental house fire. Some authorities suspected the blame
may have been intentionally set to cover up a murder.
Inside the house, only two people were found, Neoda naked,
(19:09):
beaten and dead, and Ronnie Blankenship, who was found unconscious
from smoke inhalation in one of the front bedrooms. He
claimed to have no memory of what happened that night.
His doctor, doctor Jack Hardwick, confirmed that Blankenship suffered from
severe memory loss due to the smoke and may never
(19:30):
fully recover the details of that night, but the evidence
at the scene raised far more questions than answers. How
did Neoda suffer those brutal and fatal blows to the head,
what or who started the fire? And why were Blankenship's
pants found outside the front door. Though answers to these
(19:53):
questions were difficult to come by, as there were no
witnesses nor telltale evidence left behind. A suspect in the
murder of Neoda Green wasn't hard to come by despite
(20:17):
being the only other person in the house. Ronnie Blankenship
wasn't arrested, not right away, but the scrutiny around him
grew quickly. He initially agreed to take a polygraph, but
later refused on the advice of his lawyers. By March
twenty ninth, nineteen sixty three, five days after Neoda's murder,
(20:40):
he had retained high powered legal counsel, the law firm
Mays and Mays, led by Clyde Mays, a seasoned and
aggressive defense attorney, stepped in. So did Frank Coffee, a
former assistant district attorney and future judge, who advised Blankenship
to haul cooperation with investigators entirely, including backing out of
(21:04):
the polygraph. Meanwhile, fire officials debated the cause of the blaze.
Assistant fort Worth Fire Marshal Bill Dixon and County fire
Marshall Mason Lankford both concluded the fire started in the attic,
likely due to defective wiring. Benbrook Assistant Fire Chief H. E.
(21:26):
Brown agreed, stating, I'm pretty sure it wasn't set, but
Terrant County Sheriff Lawn Evans wasn't convinced. He pushed for
a deeper investigation, suggesting the fire could have started during
a physical struggle, possibly when a cigarette was knocked out
of an ash tray onto a couch. Benbrooke Fire Chief H. S.
(21:48):
Duncan went further, saying the cause remained unknown, but it
was either arson or what he called a hot accident.
Arson seemed more likely, since Neoda's body was found with
a spotted burn pattern, as if the killer, while tossing
an accelerant such as gasoline, around the house, had splashed
(22:10):
some on her. Adding to the mystery were the broken
glass ash tray and cooking pan found at the scene.
Both were considered potential weapons. Whether the fire was a
cover up or a chaotic accident sparked in the middle
of violence. No one could say for sure, but with
(22:31):
a dead woman, a memory impaired survivor, and two potential
weapons at the scene, investigators knew this case was far
from closed. As detectives struggled to make sense of Neoda
Greene's death, the Tarrant County District Attorney's office made an
unusual move. They called for a formal inquest, a rare
(22:54):
public hearing where witnesses and suspects were legally required to
testify under a or invoke their right to the Fifth Amendment.
The hearing opened on April third, nineteen sixty three, presided
over by Peace Justice TM Sheffield of White Settlement. Seventeen
witnesses were subpoenaed, including the man found unconscious inside Neeoda's
(23:19):
burning home, Ronnie Blankenship. Helen Ricky, a woman who had
been with Neota and Ronnie the night she died, was
perhaps the most damning to speak. Ricky testified that while
the group drank whiskey at the town Pump and later
at the Key Room inside the Western Hills Hotel, Ronnie
(23:39):
Blankenship propositioned Neoda multiple times. According to Helen, it was
obvious he wanted to make love to her, but Niota
refused repeatedly. Helen Ricky said that at one point Ronnie
leaned in and said, let's have an orgy. Neeoda asked
what he meant. He never answered. I assumed it was
(24:02):
sex relations and that was all Helen Ricky testified. Then
came the medical testimony. Doctor Jack Hardwick, Blankenship's physician, testified
that his patient was suffering from severe memory loss due
to smoke inholation. According to doctor Hardwick, Ronnie only remembered
(24:23):
the smell of smoke, trying to get out of bed,
and Neoda yelling at him to get the children. He
replied that they weren't in the house, and after that
he claimed his memory went blank. But the state wasn't
buying it. Assistant District Attorney J. L. Wood dutch Winters
requested a second medical opinion. Justice Sheffield approved the motion,
(24:49):
but Blankenship's defense attorney, Frank Coffee blocked the exam, accusing
the State of trying to trap his client. Still, Blankenship
was compelled to testify. When asked the questions that mattered most,
such as what did you use when you hit Neoda
in the head, how did the house catch fire? And
(25:11):
why were your pants outside the front door? Blankenship invoked
the Fifth Amendment every time, with no answers and suspicion growing.
The inquest concluded with a formal murder charge filed against
Ronnie Blankenship on April sixteenth, nineteen sixty three. Afterward, he
(25:32):
gave a statement to reporters denying everything. I didn't hit her,
I didn't set the fire. I have no idea what happened.
As for his trousers, it baffles me too, he said.
But with Neoda gone and the evidence smoldering in ash,
Blankenship was the only person left who might have known
(25:54):
the truth, and he either knew nothing or he wasn't talking.
After his arrest, Ronnie Blankenship was released on a fifteen
thousand dollars bond and spoke to the press again denying
all wrongdoing. The grand jury returned an indictment in May
nineteen sixty three, stating that Blankenship either caused the fire
(26:17):
or could have reasonably anticipated it. His trial date was
postponed several times. In June nineteen sixty three, Jane Blankenship,
Ronnie's wife, filed for divorce. She charged Blankenship with cruel treatment,
requested full custody of their two year old son, Ronald,
(26:39):
and asked the court for three hundred and fifty dollars
a month in child support about three thousand, six hundred
and fifty bucks today. While the case was pending, Jane
also petitioned for an additional five hundred dollars a month,
likely spousal support. That's roughly fifty two hundred dollars in
today's money. It wasn't just the charges stacking up against Blankenship,
(27:04):
it was his life unraveling. The murder trial of Ronnie
Blankenship began on February tenth, nineteen sixty four, in Criminal
District Court before Judge Byron Matthews. Jury selection was slow
and deliberate. This was a circumstantial case. There re no
(27:25):
eye witnesses and the evidence was entirely indirect. From the start,
the prosecution laid out a chilling timeline. Nioda and Ronnie
had been out drinking the night she died. Witnesses testified
that Ronnie had made repeated sexual advances and Niota repeatedly refused.
(27:46):
The state argued that Blankenship frustrated and possibly drunk, struck
Neoda in a violent outburst, then set fire to the
house in a panic, and passed out. The defense countered
with a different story that Neoda's death was a tragic accident.
They suggested she had fallen during the chaos of the
(28:07):
fire and struck her head on a planter box or debris,
causing the fatal skull fracture. Two drastically different stories, one
brutal and one convenient, and no one left to speak
for Neoda, but the evidence itself. Doctor John and Douar,
the pathologist, testified that Neoda suffered a blunt force trauma
(28:31):
from an object with a pointed end. The shape and
depth of the injury suggested an object not sharp like
a knife, but pointed and doll. Doctor John Rhodes, another physician,
testified that it was plausible the injury came from a
fall against a planter box that was not far from
where Neoda's body was found. Testimony about the fire was
(28:56):
also divided. Some fire officials said it was likely set intentionally,
while others speculated that a cigarette fell out of the
ashtray and ignited the sofa during a scuffle. Blankenship took
the stand in his own defense. He said he and
Nyoda had been on several dates following her shifts at
(29:16):
the Tempo Club where he was a member, and had
visited Neoda's home together ten times. Leading to that night.
They visited three clubs and had consumed two to three
drinks at each one. Blankenship said he and Nyoda mixed
drinks in the kitchen, and then he went to bed
immediately after finishing his drink. They went to bed separately,
(29:40):
not together. He testified that there had been no argument
and that Neoda was clothed and drinking coffee when he
went to bed. The last thing he remembers is taking
off his shirt and going to sleep. The next thing
he knew, she screamed something about her children, and he
disc covered the room was all smoky. Blankenship said he
(30:04):
then crawled on his hands and knees in the direction
he believed Neoda had gone. He tried to find a
window and thought he'd gotten out on the ground. It
was a lot to recall for a man who had
previously said he didn't remember anything. Blankenship denied setting the
fire or striking Neoda. One of the more surprising defense
(30:37):
witnesses at the trial of Ronnie Blankinship was the defendant's wife, Jane. Jane,
who was visibly pregnant at the time, told the jury
that although the couple had been separated on March twenty fourth,
the day Neoda Green was killed, they had reconciled in July,
just a few weeks after she had filed for divorce.
(31:00):
Jane said she'd instructed her attorney to dismiss the divorce
petition two days after getting back together with Ronnie. She
assured the court that the suit was no longer pending.
A check of sixty seventh District Court filings revealed the
divorce case had not been dismissed. In fact, a clerk
confirmed it was still on the books, scheduled to be
(31:22):
dismissed for lack of prosecution on March twenty third, exactly
one year after Neoda's death. While Jane may have stood
by her man in court on paper, she hadn't quite
let go of the divorce. On February twentieth, nineteen sixty four,
the jury deliberated for less than two hours before returning
(31:45):
a verdict not guilty. Blankenship's wife wept. His attorneys shook
hands with jurors. The state's case, built entirely on circumstantial evidence,
had not convinced them beyond a rea reasonable doubt. Blankenship
was free, free to resume his life. He loved selling
(32:06):
property and playing the stock market. He made his career
in real estate. Football and the beach were also two
of Ronnie's passions, in addition to farming and ranching in
Montana and Minnesota, where he had properties. There's little doubt
he lived his life to its fullest. Neoda's mother, Elva Mode,
(32:29):
was devastated by the verdict. Two days after the trial,
she told prosecutors she would not rest until she knew
the truth about her daughter's death. She refused to let
the case go cold. Elva met with Assistant District Attorney
Fred Fick for the first time. She told him directly
(32:49):
that she couldn't accept Neioda's death as an unsolved murder.
Elva made her position clear someone killed her daughter and
she was determined to find out who who. She told
Fick she planned to hire a private detective and had
already consulted a Cisco attorney for advice. Elva also questioned
(33:10):
the official story if Neoda had struggled. She said the
delicate clasp on her necklace would have snapped, but it hadn't.
Elva Mode wasn't a lawyer, she wasn't a detective. She
was a mother, and she knew her daughter hadn't just
died in a fire. She had been silenced. Elva wasn't
(33:33):
going to let her memory be buried with her. To
be clear, no one ever proved that organized crime had
anything to do with Neoda Green's murder. But once you
start looking at the puzzle pieces, you begin to notice
a pattern. Not a clean, well lit picture, but something darker,
(33:55):
something just beneath the surface. Let's start with William Dude Green,
Neoda's ex husband in Fort Worth. He was well known
as a gambler. After their divorce, he later turned up
as a pit boss in Las Vegas, which in the
early nineteen sixties wasn't just a gambling capital, it was
(34:16):
mob central, a place where cash flowed, secrets stayed buried,
and people like Dude Green could disappear into the smoke.
He died in two thousand, long after the headlines had faded.
Then there's the Tempo Club, where Neoda worked after the divorce.
It was a private member's only establishment, the kind of
(34:40):
place that often skirted the edges of legality. These clubs
were known for high stakes gambling, under the table, liquor,
and the kind of deals that never made it into
the paper. And then there's Ronnie Blankenship, a contractor from
a well connected Texas family. His pe people were involved
(35:01):
in race horses, real estate, construction, trucking, and lumber industries
historically favored by organized crime for laundering money and conducting
off the book's business. If you were looking for classic
mob fronts, that list checks out. Blankenship died in twenty twelve,
(35:21):
and despite being the only other person found in the house,
he wasn't arrested right away because he too was injured.
He was taken to the hospital unconscious from smoke inhalation,
and then quickly lawyered up. Blankenship brought in Charles Mays,
a defense attorney known for playing hardball, and Frank Coffee,
(35:42):
a former assistant DA and future judge. These were powerhouse
names in Fort Worth legal circles. And then it got strange.
Blankenship claimed he couldn't remember anything. His doctor confirmed severe
memory loss, but when the DA office requested a second
medical exam. His lawyers flatly refused. He was subpoenaed to
(36:07):
testify and pleaded the fifth again and again. What did
you use to hit Neoda? How did the house catch fire?
Why were your pants outside the front door? Silence? The fifth, silence,
and here's something else. Fire officials said the blaze started
in the attic, possibly caused by faulty wiring. Others suggested
(36:32):
it may have been sparked by a cigarette during a struggle,
but some couldn't ignore the possibility of arson. There were
strange burn patterns on Nyoda's body, as if an accelerant
had been splashed on her. Arson is a tactic long
used to destroy evidence, and if you're keeping score, arson
(36:52):
happens to be a mob signature NIODA. Green's name appears
on an FBI dead list released in two thousand and nine.
She's marked LCN lecosa nostra, meaning mafia. That designation wasn't
used lightly. It meant someone believed she was connected, whether
(37:13):
as a witness, an associate, or simply someone who got
too close to something she shouldn't have. Perhaps it was
simply her marriage to William Dude Green. Whatever the case,
it only further shrouds Neoda's murder in mystery. To this day,
no one else has ever been charged in the murder
(37:35):
of Neoda mode Green let alone tried and convicted. No
other suspects were named, No physical evidence was preserved for
modern testing. Neither the Benbrook Police Department nor Terrant County
Sheriff's Office has an existing case file. All that remains
are scattered newspaper clippings, fading headlines, and questions that were
(37:58):
never answered. Nyoda was laid to rest in Oakwood Cemetery
in Cisco, Texas. Her children grew up without a mother.
Her story slipped quietly into history, but it shouldn't fade
from memory. Nyoda was only twenty seven years old. She
was born into violence but managed to thrive. Niota deserved peace,
(38:23):
She deserves justice. If you have any information about the
death of Nioda Green, please contact the Tarrant County Sheriff's
Office at eight one seven eight eight four one two
one three. If you'd like to join gon Cold's mission
(38:44):
to shine a light on unsolved homicides and missing persons cases,
get the show at free and have access to bonus content.
You can at patreon dot com. Slash Gone Cold podcast.
You can also support the show by leaving a five
star rating and written review on Apple Podcasts or wherever
else you listen. However you choose to support Gone Cold,
(39:08):
we appreciate you. Thanks for listening, y'all,
Gone Cold podcasts may contain violent or graphic subject matter.
Listener discretion is advised before the murder of Neoda Green,
before the headlines, the flames, the courtroom drama, and the
long silence that settled in afterward. We need to go back.
Neioda came into this world in nineteen thirty five, the
(00:23):
daughter of Emery and Elva Mode, a young couple married
during the Great Depression, in a time and place that
did not recognize a wife's right to safety, to dignity,
or even to ownership of her own pain. Nioda wasn't
born into a home. She was born into a battlefield
disguised as a household. She was born in violence, and
(00:46):
decades later she would die in it too. You're listening
to Gone Cold, Texas True Crime. I'm vincent and this
(01:07):
is born into violence, the case of Neoda Green. In
nineteen thirty one, Elva Shearer, a young woman from the
unincorporated community of Chisholmville, Arkansas, married Emery Earl Mode in Greery, Oklahoma.
She was eighteen, he was twenty and the son of
(01:29):
Reverend Charles Samuel Mode, a local minister. From the outside,
their union might have looked ordinary for its time, but
inside the walls of their home it was something else entirely.
Elva would later testify under oath to a packed courtroom
that the abuse started almost immediately. Within five days of
(01:52):
their wedding. She said, Emery became angry with her in bed,
began hitting her, choking her, and refusing to let her leave.
I cried and cried, she would tell a jury. More
than a decade later, when she became pregnant with her
first child, Ilova, Emory slapped her, choked her, and knocked
(02:14):
her to the floor. The first time she proudly took
her baby daughter to meet Emory's parents, she came home
to a beating. Emory told her she had made a
fool of herself over the baby, that it wasn't something
to be proud of because it was a girl. He
wanted a boy. By the time Neota was born in
(02:35):
nineteen thirty five, Elva had already endured multiple beatings and
even a miscarriage due to the abuse. The family had
moved to Cisco, Texas in the spring of nineteen thirty two,
a small oil and railroad town steeped in traditional values.
In Cisco, what went on behind closed doors, stayed there,
(02:59):
and what a man to do his wife in private
wasn't considered criminal. It was considered a part of marriage.
Police didn't often intervene in domestic disputes. There were no shelters,
no restraining orders, no safe exits for women like Elva,
and Emery knew it. Standing over Elva with her face
(03:21):
swollen and eyes red from crying, he once told police
that she was his wife, this was his house. He
could fight her if he wanted, and nobody, not neighbors,
not the law, was going to stop him. Multiple witnesses
later described horrifying assaults. Emory's sister in law watched him
(03:41):
knock a coffee cup from Elva's hands, hit her with
his fist, breaking her teeth in the process, and then
shout that he didn't give a damn if he broke
her head. Once he dragged her naked across the sun porch,
then threw her into the bathtub and out again like
a rubber ball, and still Elva stayed. What else could
(04:03):
she do? This was a time when women had no
legal autonomy, not really, abuse wasn't a legal reason for divorce.
Women couldn't even open a bank account without their husband's approval,
Elva had nowhere to go. By the mid nineteen forties,
Emery and Elva Mode's marriage was unraveling. In nineteen forty four,
(04:28):
Emory deeded a piece of property to Elva, likely during
divorce proceedings, but the couple reconciled. If Elva thought that
meant the violence would end, she was wrong. It continued
and finally culminated, perhaps in the only way it could
have a death. On August thirty first, nineteen forty nine,
(04:51):
she was treated by a doctor for a gash above
her eye, a swollen cheek, and a badly bruised shoulder.
The couple separate again. Then came Sunday, September fourth. In
the early morning hours of that day, Irene Mode testified
that she and her husband, Emory's brother Roy, had just
(05:13):
closed their restaurant around two thirty am when they spotted
Elva driving through Cisco with Joe Lee Moore, the town pharmacist.
They began to follow her and picked up Emory along
the way. The pursuit lasted nearly five hours, with Irene
and Roy claiming to spot Elva's car at least four times.
(05:35):
Around five am, Emory appeared on Elva's porch and told her,
you've been caught. I've got witnesses. Not long after, Elva
reportedly threw a rock at Roy and Irene's car. She
was at her wits end. At five thirty am, Elva
went to Roy and Irene's house and spoke with her
(05:55):
mother in law. She said Emory's relatives had been harassing
her all night, that she threw a rock at them
and was only sorry she missed. Elva told the woman
to pass along a message that Roy and Irene should
keep their noses out of her business and that she
could whip all three of them with one hand. Roy
(06:16):
said he and Emory returned home around seven am and
went to sleep. At twelve thirty pm, Emory woke Roy,
claiming he had spoken with Elva and that she was
coming to kill them. Emory left the house shortly after.
According to Elva, he drove up over a neighbor's sidewalk,
(06:36):
parked near her house and threatened her again. Emory, for
God's sake, leave me alone, she told him, but he
replied he'd get out of the car and beat her
to death. Elva didn't take the threat lightly. She knew
what he was capable of. She with her face already
bruised and her arm in a sling, said that as
(06:59):
Emory reached the door, she shot him. Emory drove back
to Roy's house within eight minutes of the shooting, yelling
from his car that Elva had got him three or
four times and that he was dying. His sister in law, Irene,
drove him to the hospital, arriving at around one point
fifteen pm. Neighbors would later tell police they had overheard
(07:22):
Elva yelling on the phone earlier saying that she had
gotten a gun. Emory was shot twice, and one bullet
went through his lung, diaphragm, and liver. He lived just
long enough to talk. In a deathbed interview with the
Cisco Justice of the Piece W. E. Brown, Emory gave
(07:44):
his version of events. He said he told Elva over
the phone that he wanted to talk with her about
a divorce and property settlement, and told her he'd give
her the divorce as soon as he could get the money.
Emory said he later saw Elva on the street and
she told him, come on over here. I can whip
you with this one hand. He said he told her
(08:06):
he loved her and always had that he had taken
good care of her. I still love you, he said,
he proclaimed, But he continued, Elva replied, I hate you.
I hate you. Then she drew a pistol from her
arm sling and shot him from the first time just
as Pece Brown spoke to Elva, He said he thought
(08:29):
the shooting was justified. Brown told Elva he did not
intend to file charges against her and instructed her to
go home. He reportedly told her she should have shot
him a long time ago. That evening, however, Judge Floyd
Jones charged her with assault with intent to murder. Elva
(08:51):
was released from the Eastland County Jail under a one
thousand dollars bond on the assault charge. On Tuesday, September sixth,
nineteen forty nine. Elva returned to the hospital and stayed
there until the night of the ninth. She complained of
the same pain and injuries she had suffered at the
hands of Emery Mode on August thirty. First. The pain
(09:14):
in her right wrist. Her fingers were also badly bruised.
Emery died at eleven ten am that morning. The charges
against Elva changed from assault with intent to murder to
plane murder. Elva was indicted on September fourteenth, nineteen forty nine.
(09:47):
The trial of Elva Mode for the murder of her
estranged husband, Emery Mode, was a local spectacle. The courtroom
was packed mostly with women over forty five, many sitting
through the lunch breaks to avoid missing a single word,
and what they heard was shocking. Elva took the stand
(10:08):
for a total of eight hours. She detailed thirty five
separate instances of abuse across eighteen years of marriage. She
told of beatings during pregnancy, emotional humiliation, control, and isolation.
Elva admitted she wasn't perfect. Once she said she had
(10:29):
hit Emery with a baseball bat and once threw a
chair at him, but those things were done in self
defense instead of instigation. She said she was never responsible
for any of the trouble with her husband. It always
started with Emery. During the trial, the prosecutor asked, you
(10:50):
still loved him after thirty five beatings. Yes, she responded,
you can't kill love. The case went to the defense.
They built it on self defense. The jury heard Emery's
dying words, saw the bruises on Elva's body, and understood
if not legally, then morally that the woman had little choice.
(11:14):
After ten minutes of deliberation, they acquitted Elva Mode of
the charges. Defense attorneys called it the quickest verdict in
Eastland County history. Elva Mode would go on to own
and run a restaurant in Cisco. She never remarried. Her
name faded from the headlines, but her story never really
(11:37):
went away, not for Elva's daughter, Neoda, and decades later,
in nineteen sixty three, Neoda would die violently, nude, beaten,
and left to burn in her own home. An accused
man walked free. When it was all said and done,
and the fire still burns cold. Let's go back to
(11:59):
the beginning. Neoda Mode was born on July twentieth, nineteen
thirty five, in Cisco, Texas. She was the youngest daughter
of Emery and Elva Mode, and she grew up with
one sister, Elova. Cisco was a small Eastland County town
where faith, family, and reputation held significant weight. By all accounts,
(12:24):
Nioda was a talented and spirited young woman at Cisco
High School. She played the coronet in the band and
was a majorrette. Those who knew her described her as
vivacious and proud, a young woman with a commanding presence
and strong will. In nineteen fifty four, she graduated from
(12:45):
Cisco High and earned a Twirling scholarship to Texas Christian University.
During the nineteen fifty four nineteen fifty five school year,
she became a purple majorette with the Horned Frog Band.
College life wouldn't last long. Sometime after her junior year,
Neoda left college and married William Henry dude Green, a
(13:10):
man who would later be described in media accounts as
a fort Worth gambler. The couple would go on to
have two children, Cynthia Lee and Bartley Allen. By the
late nineteen fifties, Niota and dude Green had settled in Benbrook,
a quiet suburb just southwest of Fort Worth. They moved
(13:32):
into a modern brick home at eight thousand and one
Chapin Road, valued at thirty five thousand dollars equal to
about four hundred thousand dollars in twenty twenty five. At
the time, the house was a symbol of stability and
a fresh start, if not a foot in the door
of a comfortable middle class life, but behind the idyllic
(13:54):
suburban image change was coming. In late October nineteen sixty
Nyoda filed for divorce from Dude. The split was finalized
on January thirteenth, nineteen sixty three. Afterward, Neoda began working
as a barmaid at the Tempo Club, a private member's
(14:15):
only spot on Camp Bouie Boulevard. It was there through
her job that she met Ronnie Blankenship, a man from
a prominent fort Worth family with deep ties to race horses,
real estate, construction, trucking, and lumber. A new chapter in
Nioda's life was unfolding, but it wouldn't lead where anyone expected.
(14:40):
After her shift, on the night of Saturday, March twenty third,
nineteen sixty three, twenty seven year old Neeoda Green went
out with Ronnie Blankenship, a tall, thirty year old, dark
haired building contractor. Ronnie was married at the time to
a woman named Jane. The couple had a young sol
(15:00):
and while he would later claim they were separated, one
thing is clear. He and Niota had spent time together
socially for several days leading up to that night. According
to later testimony, the two joined at times by others,
including Helen Shaver and Helen Rickey visited several bars on
the west side of Fort Worth. These included the Tempo
(15:23):
Club where Neoda worked, the Town Pump on University Drive,
and the Key Room at the Western Hills Hotel. Witnesses
later described the mood as social but awkward. Helen Shaver
later testified that Blankenship made multiple sexual suggestions to Neoda
throughout that evening. He reportedly told her she needed a
(15:46):
relationship with a man to calm her down, and even
nicknamed her frigid Missus. Ricky also said that Ronnie at
one point wanted to go home with her, but Nyoda refused. Used.
She described Neoda as intoxicated when she left them at
the Key Club about closing time, Neoda left the nightclub
(16:10):
with Ronnie. They returned to her home on Shape and
Road sometime around one thirty am. At around four thirty
am on Sunday, March twenty fourth, nineteen sixty three, a
teenage newspaper carrier named James Hargrove noticed flames shooting from
the back of Neeoda Green's house. He was preparing to
(16:33):
start his morning paper route when he spotted the blaze. Alarmed,
he woke his father, Jay Gordon Hargrove, and the two
rushed over. James broke a window in an attempt to
get inside, but was overwhelmed by the thick smoke. Firefighters
soon arrived and began battling the intense fire. Ben Brooke
(16:55):
Assistant fire Chief H. E. Brown described the heat and
smoke as unbearable. Inside the house, firefighters found a shocking scene.
In the dining area of the three bedroom home. They
discovered Neoda Green's nude body, face up on the floor.
She had been badly burned. Nearby, in one of the
(17:18):
front bedrooms, they found Ronnie Blankenship, also nude, lying face down.
He was initially believed to be dead, but was revived
with oxygen and taken to White Settlement Hospital. Ronnie had
suffered smoke inhalation and minor burns. An autopsy on Neeoda's
(17:39):
body revealed grim details. She had suffered three blows to
the head. One blow caused a three inch fracture to
the back of her skull. There were also injuries to
her face and mouth. Though Neoda had inhaled smoke, the
medical examiner concluded that the head trauma had rendered her
(17:59):
on conscious before the fire, which she likely would have escaped. Otherwise,
the pathologist ruled her death a homicide. At the scene,
police found a heavy glass ash tray chipped and broken
into three pieces. Investigators believed it might be the weapon
used in the attack. Also recovered was a frying pan
(18:23):
with the handle burned off, though its role in the crime,
if any, was unclear. Luckily, Neota's children were not at home.
They had been left with a babysitter earlier that evening.
The investigation into Neoda Greene's death began immediately, led by
ben Brook Police Chief J. E. Prince, with support from
(18:46):
the Tarrant County Sheriff's Office and the District Attorney's office.
From the outset, one thing was clear. This wasn't just
a tragic accidental house fire. Some authorities suspected the blame
may have been intentionally set to cover up a murder.
Inside the house, only two people were found, Neoda naked,
(19:09):
beaten and dead, and Ronnie Blankenship, who was found unconscious
from smoke inhalation in one of the front bedrooms. He
claimed to have no memory of what happened that night.
His doctor, doctor Jack Hardwick, confirmed that Blankenship suffered from
severe memory loss due to the smoke and may never
(19:30):
fully recover the details of that night, but the evidence
at the scene raised far more questions than answers. How
did Neoda suffer those brutal and fatal blows to the head,
what or who started the fire? And why were Blankenship's
pants found outside the front door. Though answers to these
(19:53):
questions were difficult to come by, as there were no
witnesses nor telltale evidence left behind. A suspect in the
murder of Neoda Green wasn't hard to come by despite
(20:17):
being the only other person in the house. Ronnie Blankenship
wasn't arrested, not right away, but the scrutiny around him
grew quickly. He initially agreed to take a polygraph, but
later refused on the advice of his lawyers. By March
twenty ninth, nineteen sixty three, five days after Neoda's murder,
(20:40):
he had retained high powered legal counsel, the law firm
Mays and Mays, led by Clyde Mays, a seasoned and
aggressive defense attorney, stepped in. So did Frank Coffee, a
former assistant district attorney and future judge, who advised Blankenship
to haul cooperation with investigators entirely, including backing out of
(21:04):
the polygraph. Meanwhile, fire officials debated the cause of the blaze.
Assistant fort Worth Fire Marshal Bill Dixon and County fire
Marshall Mason Lankford both concluded the fire started in the attic,
likely due to defective wiring. Benbrook Assistant Fire Chief H. E.
(21:26):
Brown agreed, stating, I'm pretty sure it wasn't set, but
Terrant County Sheriff Lawn Evans wasn't convinced. He pushed for
a deeper investigation, suggesting the fire could have started during
a physical struggle, possibly when a cigarette was knocked out
of an ash tray onto a couch. Benbrooke Fire Chief H. S.
(21:48):
Duncan went further, saying the cause remained unknown, but it
was either arson or what he called a hot accident.
Arson seemed more likely, since Neoda's body was found with
a spotted burn pattern, as if the killer, while tossing
an accelerant such as gasoline, around the house, had splashed
(22:10):
some on her. Adding to the mystery were the broken
glass ash tray and cooking pan found at the scene.
Both were considered potential weapons. Whether the fire was a
cover up or a chaotic accident sparked in the middle
of violence. No one could say for sure, but with
(22:31):
a dead woman, a memory impaired survivor, and two potential
weapons at the scene, investigators knew this case was far
from closed. As detectives struggled to make sense of Neoda
Greene's death, the Tarrant County District Attorney's office made an
unusual move. They called for a formal inquest, a rare
(22:54):
public hearing where witnesses and suspects were legally required to
testify under a or invoke their right to the Fifth Amendment.
The hearing opened on April third, nineteen sixty three, presided
over by Peace Justice TM Sheffield of White Settlement. Seventeen
witnesses were subpoenaed, including the man found unconscious inside Neeoda's
(23:19):
burning home, Ronnie Blankenship. Helen Ricky, a woman who had
been with Neota and Ronnie the night she died, was
perhaps the most damning to speak. Ricky testified that while
the group drank whiskey at the town Pump and later
at the Key Room inside the Western Hills Hotel, Ronnie
(23:39):
Blankenship propositioned Neoda multiple times. According to Helen, it was
obvious he wanted to make love to her, but Niota
refused repeatedly. Helen Ricky said that at one point Ronnie
leaned in and said, let's have an orgy. Neeoda asked
what he meant. He never answered. I assumed it was
(24:02):
sex relations and that was all Helen Ricky testified. Then
came the medical testimony. Doctor Jack Hardwick, Blankenship's physician, testified
that his patient was suffering from severe memory loss due
to smoke inholation. According to doctor Hardwick, Ronnie only remembered
(24:23):
the smell of smoke, trying to get out of bed,
and Neoda yelling at him to get the children. He
replied that they weren't in the house, and after that
he claimed his memory went blank. But the state wasn't
buying it. Assistant District Attorney J. L. Wood dutch Winters
requested a second medical opinion. Justice Sheffield approved the motion,
(24:49):
but Blankenship's defense attorney, Frank Coffee blocked the exam, accusing
the State of trying to trap his client. Still, Blankenship
was compelled to testify. When asked the questions that mattered most,
such as what did you use when you hit Neoda
in the head, how did the house catch fire? And
(25:11):
why were your pants outside the front door? Blankenship invoked
the Fifth Amendment every time, with no answers and suspicion growing.
The inquest concluded with a formal murder charge filed against
Ronnie Blankenship on April sixteenth, nineteen sixty three. Afterward, he
(25:32):
gave a statement to reporters denying everything. I didn't hit her,
I didn't set the fire. I have no idea what happened.
As for his trousers, it baffles me too, he said.
But with Neoda gone and the evidence smoldering in ash,
Blankenship was the only person left who might have known
(25:54):
the truth, and he either knew nothing or he wasn't talking.
After his arrest, Ronnie Blankenship was released on a fifteen
thousand dollars bond and spoke to the press again denying
all wrongdoing. The grand jury returned an indictment in May
nineteen sixty three, stating that Blankenship either caused the fire
(26:17):
or could have reasonably anticipated it. His trial date was
postponed several times. In June nineteen sixty three, Jane Blankenship,
Ronnie's wife, filed for divorce. She charged Blankenship with cruel treatment,
requested full custody of their two year old son, Ronald,
(26:39):
and asked the court for three hundred and fifty dollars
a month in child support about three thousand, six hundred
and fifty bucks today. While the case was pending, Jane
also petitioned for an additional five hundred dollars a month,
likely spousal support. That's roughly fifty two hundred dollars in
today's money. It wasn't just the charges stacking up against Blankenship,
(27:04):
it was his life unraveling. The murder trial of Ronnie
Blankenship began on February tenth, nineteen sixty four, in Criminal
District Court before Judge Byron Matthews. Jury selection was slow
and deliberate. This was a circumstantial case. There re no
(27:25):
eye witnesses and the evidence was entirely indirect. From the start,
the prosecution laid out a chilling timeline. Nioda and Ronnie
had been out drinking the night she died. Witnesses testified
that Ronnie had made repeated sexual advances and Niota repeatedly refused.
(27:46):
The state argued that Blankenship frustrated and possibly drunk, struck
Neoda in a violent outburst, then set fire to the
house in a panic, and passed out. The defense countered
with a different story that Neoda's death was a tragic accident.
They suggested she had fallen during the chaos of the
(28:07):
fire and struck her head on a planter box or debris,
causing the fatal skull fracture. Two drastically different stories, one
brutal and one convenient, and no one left to speak
for Neoda, but the evidence itself. Doctor John and Douar,
the pathologist, testified that Neoda suffered a blunt force trauma
(28:31):
from an object with a pointed end. The shape and
depth of the injury suggested an object not sharp like
a knife, but pointed and doll. Doctor John Rhodes, another physician,
testified that it was plausible the injury came from a
fall against a planter box that was not far from
where Neoda's body was found. Testimony about the fire was
(28:56):
also divided. Some fire officials said it was likely set intentionally,
while others speculated that a cigarette fell out of the
ashtray and ignited the sofa during a scuffle. Blankenship took
the stand in his own defense. He said he and
Nyoda had been on several dates following her shifts at
(29:16):
the Tempo Club where he was a member, and had
visited Neoda's home together ten times. Leading to that night.
They visited three clubs and had consumed two to three
drinks at each one. Blankenship said he and Nyoda mixed
drinks in the kitchen, and then he went to bed
immediately after finishing his drink. They went to bed separately,
(29:40):
not together. He testified that there had been no argument
and that Neoda was clothed and drinking coffee when he
went to bed. The last thing he remembers is taking
off his shirt and going to sleep. The next thing
he knew, she screamed something about her children, and he
disc covered the room was all smoky. Blankenship said he
(30:04):
then crawled on his hands and knees in the direction
he believed Neoda had gone. He tried to find a
window and thought he'd gotten out on the ground. It
was a lot to recall for a man who had
previously said he didn't remember anything. Blankenship denied setting the
fire or striking Neoda. One of the more surprising defense
(30:37):
witnesses at the trial of Ronnie Blankinship was the defendant's wife, Jane. Jane,
who was visibly pregnant at the time, told the jury
that although the couple had been separated on March twenty fourth,
the day Neoda Green was killed, they had reconciled in July,
just a few weeks after she had filed for divorce.
(31:00):
Jane said she'd instructed her attorney to dismiss the divorce
petition two days after getting back together with Ronnie. She
assured the court that the suit was no longer pending.
A check of sixty seventh District Court filings revealed the
divorce case had not been dismissed. In fact, a clerk
confirmed it was still on the books, scheduled to be
(31:22):
dismissed for lack of prosecution on March twenty third, exactly
one year after Neoda's death. While Jane may have stood
by her man in court on paper, she hadn't quite
let go of the divorce. On February twentieth, nineteen sixty four,
the jury deliberated for less than two hours before returning
(31:45):
a verdict not guilty. Blankenship's wife wept. His attorneys shook
hands with jurors. The state's case, built entirely on circumstantial evidence,
had not convinced them beyond a rea reasonable doubt. Blankenship
was free, free to resume his life. He loved selling
(32:06):
property and playing the stock market. He made his career
in real estate. Football and the beach were also two
of Ronnie's passions, in addition to farming and ranching in
Montana and Minnesota, where he had properties. There's little doubt
he lived his life to its fullest. Neoda's mother, Elva Mode,
(32:29):
was devastated by the verdict. Two days after the trial,
she told prosecutors she would not rest until she knew
the truth about her daughter's death. She refused to let
the case go cold. Elva met with Assistant District Attorney
Fred Fick for the first time. She told him directly
(32:49):
that she couldn't accept Neioda's death as an unsolved murder.
Elva made her position clear someone killed her daughter and
she was determined to find out who who. She told
Fick she planned to hire a private detective and had
already consulted a Cisco attorney for advice. Elva also questioned
(33:10):
the official story if Neoda had struggled. She said the
delicate clasp on her necklace would have snapped, but it hadn't.
Elva Mode wasn't a lawyer, she wasn't a detective. She
was a mother, and she knew her daughter hadn't just
died in a fire. She had been silenced. Elva wasn't
(33:33):
going to let her memory be buried with her. To
be clear, no one ever proved that organized crime had
anything to do with Neoda Green's murder. But once you
start looking at the puzzle pieces, you begin to notice
a pattern. Not a clean, well lit picture, but something darker,
(33:55):
something just beneath the surface. Let's start with William Dude Green,
Neoda's ex husband in Fort Worth. He was well known
as a gambler. After their divorce, he later turned up
as a pit boss in Las Vegas, which in the
early nineteen sixties wasn't just a gambling capital, it was
(34:16):
mob central, a place where cash flowed, secrets stayed buried,
and people like Dude Green could disappear into the smoke.
He died in two thousand, long after the headlines had faded.
Then there's the Tempo Club, where Neoda worked after the divorce.
It was a private member's only establishment, the kind of
(34:40):
place that often skirted the edges of legality. These clubs
were known for high stakes gambling, under the table, liquor,
and the kind of deals that never made it into
the paper. And then there's Ronnie Blankenship, a contractor from
a well connected Texas family. His pe people were involved
(35:01):
in race horses, real estate, construction, trucking, and lumber industries
historically favored by organized crime for laundering money and conducting
off the book's business. If you were looking for classic
mob fronts, that list checks out. Blankenship died in twenty twelve,
(35:21):
and despite being the only other person found in the house,
he wasn't arrested right away because he too was injured.
He was taken to the hospital unconscious from smoke inhalation,
and then quickly lawyered up. Blankenship brought in Charles Mays,
a defense attorney known for playing hardball, and Frank Coffee,
(35:42):
a former assistant DA and future judge. These were powerhouse
names in Fort Worth legal circles. And then it got strange.
Blankenship claimed he couldn't remember anything. His doctor confirmed severe
memory loss, but when the DA office requested a second
medical exam. His lawyers flatly refused. He was subpoenaed to
(36:07):
testify and pleaded the fifth again and again. What did
you use to hit Neoda? How did the house catch fire?
Why were your pants outside the front door? Silence? The fifth, silence,
and here's something else. Fire officials said the blaze started
in the attic, possibly caused by faulty wiring. Others suggested
(36:32):
it may have been sparked by a cigarette during a struggle,
but some couldn't ignore the possibility of arson. There were
strange burn patterns on Nyoda's body, as if an accelerant
had been splashed on her. Arson is a tactic long
used to destroy evidence, and if you're keeping score, arson
(36:52):
happens to be a mob signature NIODA. Green's name appears
on an FBI dead list released in two thousand and nine.
She's marked LCN lecosa nostra, meaning mafia. That designation wasn't
used lightly. It meant someone believed she was connected, whether
(37:13):
as a witness, an associate, or simply someone who got
too close to something she shouldn't have. Perhaps it was
simply her marriage to William Dude Green. Whatever the case,
it only further shrouds Neoda's murder in mystery. To this day,
no one else has ever been charged in the murder
(37:35):
of Neoda mode Green let alone tried and convicted. No
other suspects were named, No physical evidence was preserved for
modern testing. Neither the Benbrook Police Department nor Terrant County
Sheriff's Office has an existing case file. All that remains
are scattered newspaper clippings, fading headlines, and questions that were
(37:58):
never answered. Nyoda was laid to rest in Oakwood Cemetery
in Cisco, Texas. Her children grew up without a mother.
Her story slipped quietly into history, but it shouldn't fade
from memory. Nyoda was only twenty seven years old. She
was born into violence but managed to thrive. Niota deserved peace,
(38:23):
She deserves justice. If you have any information about the
death of Nioda Green, please contact the Tarrant County Sheriff's
Office at eight one seven eight eight four one two
one three. If you'd like to join gon Cold's mission
(38:44):
to shine a light on unsolved homicides and missing persons cases,
get the show at free and have access to bonus content.
You can at patreon dot com. Slash Gone Cold podcast.
You can also support the show by leaving a five
star rating and written review on Apple Podcasts or wherever
else you listen. However you choose to support Gone Cold,
(39:08):
we appreciate you. Thanks for listening, y'all,
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