Advertise on podcast: Dig

In 2023, 17-year-old Abbie Jones and her family accuse her high school football coach, Donnie Stoner, of child sex abuse. Another Louisville woman, Alexis Crook, says she was abused by Donnie too, and his twin brother Ronnie, when they were coaches at her private Christian school almost 20 years earlier. Hearing stories like this one can bring up painful feelings and memories, especially if you're a trauma survivor yourself. If you need to talk, you can reach the RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-HOPE, or visit RAINN.org and click get help now for free, 24/7 support. If you’re experiencing a mental health crisis, call or text 988. Learn more about preventing sexual misconduct and abuse by K-12 school employees (PDF) If you have information about this case, or you think there’s something we should know that we haven’t reported here, please contact Jess Clark at [email protected] or 502-814-6541. Our work is community funded. To help us keep digging, visit kydig.org and click donate.

Over the years, two girls and one young woman report Ronnie Stoner for sexual misconduct and rape in a public middle school and high school. But Child Protective Services declines to investigate, and the school district, Jefferson County Public Schools, continues to promote him. Hearing stories like this one can bring up painful feelings and memories, especially if you're a trauma survivor yourself. If you need to talk, you can reach the RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-HOPE, or visit RAINN.org and click get help now for free, 24/7 support. If you’re experiencing a mental health crisis, call or text 988. Learn more about preventing sexual misconduct and abuse by K-12 school employees (PDF) If you have information about this case, or you think there’s something we should know that we haven’t reported here, please contact Jess Clark at [email protected] or 502-814-6541. Our work is community funded. To help us keep digging, visit kydig.org and click donate.

17-year-old Aryalle Stoner runs away from home and tells the police that her father, Ronnie Stoner, has been sexually abusing her for years. The cursory investigation that follows is representative of a larger issue with child sex abuse investigations in Louisville. Hearing stories like this one can bring up painful feelings and memories, especially if you're a trauma survivor yourself. If you need to talk, you can reach the RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-HOPE, or visit RAINN.org and click get help now for free, 24/7 support. If you’re experiencing a mental health crisis, call or text 988. Learn more about preventing sexual misconduct and abuse by K-12 school employees (PDF) If you have information about this case, or you think there’s something we should know that we haven’t reported here, please contact Jess Clark at [email protected] or 502-814-6541. Our work is community funded. To help us keep digging, visit kydig.org and click donate.

Alleged victims of the Stoners find each other online and band together to demand justice. But they find themselves running up against police and prosecutors who want them to stay quiet. Hearing stories like this one can bring up painful feelings and memories, especially if you're a trauma survivor yourself. If you need to talk, you can reach the RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-HOPE, or visit RAINN.org and click get help now for free, 24/7 support. If you’re experiencing a mental health crisis, call or text 988.Learn more about preventing sexual misconduct and abuse by K-12 school employees (PDF)If you have information about this case, or you think there’s something we should know that we haven’t reported here, please contact Jess Clark at [email protected] or 502-814-6541.Our work is community funded. To help us keep digging, visit kydig.org and click donate.

They were trusted educators and respected coaches. But in the summer of 2025, twin brothers Ronnie and Donnie Stoner were indicted on more than 50 charges related to child sex abuse allegations. A group of young women say the abuse stretched back nearly two decades. So what took so long? This is the story of those women who say they survived the abuse, took matters into their own hands and are still fighting for the girls they used to be.

Barbecue chef David McAtee, the man they called Yaya, was a staple at 26th and Broadway in Louisville’s predominately Black West End. He was a friend to everyone who stopped by for a meal — including many police officers. For years, Louisville had claimed to be building bridges between police and Black communities. Yaya was one of those bridges. Here’s what happened to him, and how.

In 2016, the police chief laid out his vision: Louisville was going to become the kind of place where everyone across the city, no matter what neighborhood they lived in, would get the same treatment from the police — policing that’s about your protection, and safety. But that’s not what happened.

Even as city leaders were making big promises about the model city they claimed Louisville was going to become, they were making decisions that undermined those policing reform goals. In 2016, there were 117 homicides in Louisville — at that point, the most in decades. Police responded with a “People, Places and Narcotics” strategy that targeted some Black neighborhoods with aggressive patrols.

For LMPD to become the police department it claimed to want to be, the department would have to recruit the best of the best, retain experienced officers, and effectively discipline and remove problem one. But LMPD’s disciplinary system makes the latter hard to do. Former and current officers say the job can chew up and spit out people who want to do community policing — harming the most-policed communities in the process.

“Early this morning, we had a critical incident involving one of our officers who was shot and another person at the scene who was killed.” When LMPD Chief Steve Conrad first described what happened in Breonna Taylor’s apartment on March 13, 2020, he did not mention her by name. But the city would soon learn it — then the country, and then the world. What came next demonstrated how far LMPD had fallen from its ideals. Crowd control tactics in 21st Century Policing call for de-escalation — but in the wake of a particularly violent first night of protests in Louisville, LMPD officers settled into a routine of riot gear, tear gas and arresting protesters en masse.

So much has changed since Louisville first proclaimed itself a model city for policing reform: the police chief was fired. The city was upended by protests and grief over Breonna Taylor, and David McAtee. But some things are the same: The anger. The frustration. The disconnect between the police and the community. In our season finale, city leadership makes a very familiar set of promises. Could 21st Century Policing work this time? Is it too late?

Louisville, Ky., the city now known for the police killing of Breonna Taylor, once made ambitious promises to transform its police department and mend its relationship with the Black community. Just five years before they killed Breonna Taylor in her home, Louisville considered itself a model city for police reform.  In a joint KyCIR/Newsy investigation, insiders and documents reveal the systemic barriers and choices made by city leaders and the Louisville Metro Police Department that led to its failure to meaningfully change. How did Louisville go from a national leader in policing to the face of a national movement protesting the police? Find out in the next season of Dig, coming soon.

Episode 1: Jen Sainato reported a rape to Louisville police in January 2018. She didn’t feel like they believed her. Jen’s case puts a spotlight on police response to rapes, the prosecutors’ unusual role in rape cases here in Louisville, and how it feels to the people who report. (Note: There are descriptions of a rape, and audio from a police body camera on the scene of a rape investigation, throughout this episode.) Donate to support this and future seasons of Dig.

Episode 2: Jen Sainato reported a rape to Louisville police in January 2018. In this episode, we hear about her attempts over the next two years to follow up on her case. And we ask LMPD why cases like Jen’s seem to be taken to the prosecutor’s office so early - sometimes before suspects have even been interviewed. (Note: This episode includes brief descriptions of multiple rape reports.) Donate to support this and future seasons of Dig.

Episode 3: Louisville officials say rape cases are hard to prosecute. They are not wrong. But we talked with police, prosecutors and experts from around the country who told us it’s not impossible — you just have to be willing to lose a few trials. (Note: This episode includes a series of brief descriptions of sexual violence from courtroom recordings throughout the 14th and 15th minutes, and again in the 17th and 18th minutes.) Donate to support this and future seasons of Dig.