So here are my thoughts on the passing of Clyde Hedrick. Some of you already know my story, but for those who don’t—when genetic genealogy was still in its early days, I discovered the identity of my biological father. That discovery opened the door to a much darker truth about my conception and who my father really was.
I ended up writing a book about it. In the book, I mentioned Clyde briefly. During my search for answers, I spoke with several investigators who hinted there might be a connection between him and my story—but I was never told exactly what that connection was. I reached out to Clyde several times, hoping for an interview or at least a conversation to fill in the blanks. I never got a response—no returned calls, no emails.
Since the release of my book, I’ve teamed up with Crude Acts, a Texas-based true crime podcast, to take a fresh look at the entire story. I conducted extensive research while writing, but now that the book is out, people have come forward—and I’m learning twice as much as before.
All I can offer are theories based on what I’ve uncovered. As one investigator once told me, “There were a lot of bad guys in the 1970s.” We’re now digging deeper into the people who surrounded them—their attorneys, their employers, and the networks they may have shared.
I don’t know if we’ll uncover anything earth-shattering, but some evidence does suggest there was organized activity—possibly even a network tied to organized crime, especially throughout the 1970s.
My theory is that there were multiple serial killers operating back then. Some acted on their own, driven purely by their own pathology. But others, like Clyde—or possibly my father—may have been connected through a broader criminal network, maybe even the Dixie Mafia.
We may never know the full truth. But I do know this—I’ll never stop digging.