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Justice Delayed but Not Forgotten: Rhonda Sue Coleman Cold Case

A Small Town’s Thirty-Year Secret

To understand the silence in Hazlehurst, one must look at the shadow cast by those sworn to protect it. A significant point of contention remains the jurisdictional handover: though Rhonda was found in Montgomery County, the Jeff Davis County Sheriff’s Office took over the case—a move that many, including the Colemans, viewed with deep skepticism.

Hazlehurst, Georgia, in May 1990, was a community defined by the quiet rhythms of the Deep South and the joyous anticipation of high school graduation. Rhonda Sue Coleman, a popular 18-year-old just two weeks from receiving her diploma, was a vibrant part of that fabric. On the night of May 17, she left a senior class party where she had been decorating a graduation banner—a mundane, relatable act of teenage curiosity and school spirit. She never made it home.

The mystery began with a haunting roadside tableau that has remained etched in the town’s memory for decades: Rhonda’s 1989 Chevy Cavalier was found abandoned and still idling by the highway, her purse still on the passenger seat. Three days later, the search ended in heartbreak when a hunter discovered her partially burned body in a wooded area in neighboring Montgomery County. 

For over thirty years, a deafening silence blanketed Hazlehurst, leaving Milton and Gayle Coleman to fight a lonely battle against a stalled investigation. This story explores how that tragedy eventually broke the "Blue Wall of Silence" and transformed Georgia’s legal landscape forever.

The "Podcast Effect" and the Power of Independent Investigation


For three decades, Rhonda’s parents were met with a repetitive, frustrating refrain from law enforcement: "We can’t answer that." This wall of silence eventually sparked a historic legislative fire. On July 1, 2023, the Coleman-Baker Act was enacted in Georgia, the result of a tireless partnership between the Colemans, the family of murdered UGA student Tara Baker, and podcaster Cameron Jay Harrelson.

The Act allocated $5 million to a dedicated GBI Cold Case Unit, providing families a formal mechanism to demand a re-examination of stagnant investigations. There is a profound, bittersweet irony here: the very systemic failures and investigative frustrations that denied the Colemans answers for thirty years became the catalyst for a law that is now delivering justice to other families across the state.

When traditional leads turned to dust, "new media" provided a platform outside the local power structure. The Fox Hunter podcast, created by Sean Kipe, didn't just tell a story; it functioned as a secondary grand jury. Kipe conducted over 150 independent interviews, unearthing witnesses who had long been hushed by the small-town hierarchy.

Milton and Gayle Coleman, now in their 70s, have made it clear they are no longer concerned with whose feathers they ruffle or what local legacies they dismantle. They feel they don't have a lot of time left, and that urgency is driving a final, desperate search for the truth.

The GBI’s current activity—conducting 150 interviews and investigative acts in just the last year—is a direct response to Kipe’s findings. Most notably, an "unanticipated" 11th episode of the podcast revealed physical evidence that forced the state’s hand, proving that independent journalism can break the grip of community silence.

The Coleman-Baker Act has already proven to be a powerhouse of justice, yet its success is undeniably lopsided. In 2024, the Act led to an immediate arrest and resolution in the murder of Tara Baker, ending 23 years of agonizing uncertainty for her family.

The Contrast of Two Outcomes

While the Bakers have finally seen an arrest, the Colemans continue to wait. It is a striking narrative tension: the law that bears Rhonda’s name has successfully closed other cases while her own remains in the "review and investigate" phase.

One Case Solved, One Still Waiting

For the girl from Hazlehurst, the legislation is a monumental achievement, but for her parents, it remains a hollow victory until the handcuffs click shut on her killer.

Hazlehurst, Georgia, in May 1990, was a community defined by the quiet rhythms of the Deep South and the joyous anticipation of high school graduation.

To understand the silence in Hazlehurst, one must look at the shadow cast by those sworn to protect it. A significant point of contention remains the jurisdictional handover: though Rhonda was found in Montgomery County, the Jeff Davis County Sheriff’s Office took over the case—a move that many, including the Colemans, viewed with deep skepticism.

Eyewitnesses have consistently placed "Marky" Hall, the son of then-Sheriff Mark Hall, at the scene of the disappearance. Witnesses like Mitchell Wood and "Rat" identified a deputy car—specifically noting its window tint—parked next to Rhonda’s idling Chevy at 10:46 PM. For thirty years, a "fear of retaliation" gripped the town. It was only after the "past law was gone" that residents felt they "ain't got to be afraid no more" to speak about the unidentified grayish-blue truck and the deputy car seen that night.

A Precipice of a Breakthrough

The investigation into the death of Rhonda Sue Coleman has reached a fever pitch. With the GBI Cold Case Unit performing an extensive review of new evidence and a reward fund that now exceeds $160,000, the momentum is higher than it has been since 1990. Milton and Gayle Coleman, now in their 70s, have made it clear they are no longer concerned with whose feathers they ruffle or what local legacies they dismantle. They feel they don't have a lot of time left, and that urgency is driving a final, desperate search for the truth.

The Science of Truth: Polygraphs as a Narrative Tool

In a case where memories have been suppressed by fear, veteran polygrapher Patrick Coffey, a retired U.S. Army CID agent, was utilized to separate fact from small-town fiction. By monitoring the physiological homeostasis of witnesses, investigators were able to validate accounts that placed key suspects at the scene.

Mitchell Wood, a classmate of Rhonda’s, passed a polygraph regarding four critical, bone-chilling questions:

Did you see Rhonda with Mickey Beecher the night she went missing? (Yes)

Did you see Marky Hall in the road next to Rhonda's car? (Yes)

Did Marky Hall threaten that if you didn't want something bad to happen, you better leave? (Yes)

Did you hear Mickey Beecher tell Rhonda they had to go meet someone and she knows what would happen if they did not show? (Yes)

In a town where everyone knows everything, how much longer can the truth remain hidden under the weight of a thirty-year-old secret?

If you have any information regarding the abduction or murder of Rhonda Sue Coleman, please contact the authorities. The smallest detail could be the key to breaking this case.

Call the GBI Region 4 Douglas Office: 912-389-4103





Unsolved slaying in Hazlehurst another case of delayed justice in Georgia

Rhonda Sue Coleman Podcast

More than 30 years have passed since the day Rhonda Sue Coleman left her home in Hazlehurst and did not return.

Rhonda, 18, was a graduating senior and had attended an event at a classmate’s home on a Thursday. That night, a friend found her car still running by the side of the road, her purse in the passenger seat and her footprints leading from her 1989 Chevy Cavalier to an unidentified vehicle. Three days later, police found her partially burned body in a wooded area the next county over.


Since then, her parents, Milton and Gayle Coleman, have fought valiantly to bring the killer to justice but have been frustrated by the lack of information, the poorly managed investigation and what they believe could be a cover-up by law enforcement.

“Over the years, we can’t get a lot of answers,” said Milton Coleman, who spoke with me by phone as he and his wife drove through town. Whenever they have asked for information, law enforcement officers have said “we can’t answer that,” Coleman said.

They didn’t even know the cause of their daughter’s death, which is listed as unknown on her death certificate.

For decades, the community has supported the much loved couple in their efforts to uncover information about Rhonda’s slaying, but Hazlehurst is a small town and not everyone has always felt comfortable sharing what they know. Milton and Gayle Coleman are both 70 now. They know they don’t have a lot of time left to get justice for their daughter, and they are at the point where they no longer care who they tick off.

Early this year, Sean Kipe, an Atlanta-based podcaster, picked up the threads of Rhonda’s case and unearthed new information, including physical evidence that will be revealed this week in an unanticipated 11th episode of “Fox Hunter.”

Kipe, an actor and musician with 20 years in the entertainment business, stumbled into podcasting, but found success uncovering new information in a 47-year-old murder case during his first podcast, “In the Red Clay.” He was drawn to Rhonda’s story in the hopes of doing the same. “The end goal is to give this family answers and to put the person or the people responsible for her death in prison where they belong,” Kipe said.

Supporters have raised more than $160,000 to offer as a reward for information. Just last week, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation began interviewing new witnesses revealed in the podcast, Kipe said. And Milton and Gayle Coleman are helping to draft legislation that would change the way cold cases like Rhonda’s are handled in the future by allowing family members access to certain information and by having a special investigator take another look after a certain time period.

“The case is active and ongoing. There is nothing new to report,” said the director of public affairs for the GBI when I reached out with questions.

A year ago, in an effort to address the unsolved cases across the state, the GBI formed a formal cold case unit to focus exclusively on longstanding unsolved cases, GBI Director Vic Reynolds told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution in December 2020. A six-person team, comprised of retired agency investigators, work on cases that may have been open for as long as 40 years.

Rhonda’s case isn’t unique, but her story is particularly relatable.

She was young, beautiful, sporty and popular. She was planning to attend Georgia Southern in Statesboro to study nursing and work with newborns.

If a young woman isn’t safe coming home from a friend’s house on a weekday evening, then how can any woman feel safe?

In 2019, 49 women were murdered by men in Georgia, according to data from the Violence Policy Center. An estimated 9 in 10 women knew their killer.

Rhonda’s parents have long believed she was killed by someone she knew.

Describing how he went off to search for his daughter when she did not arrive home by curfew, Coleman spoke of arriving at the scene where Rhonda’s car had been abandoned. There he found police deputies already on-site. He ran through all the possibilities in his mind, but after a three-day search, on May 20, 1990, her body was found 15 miles from her car. They would find out from news reports that her body was partially burned. They would learn much later, and still unofficially, that the cause of death was strangulation or positional asphyxia.

A few years ago, frustrated with decades of dead ends, Milton and Gayle Coleman hired a private investigator, who began interviewing more people and conducting polygraph tests. But after so many years, people who may have had information have died.

Community members have speculated about possible suspects, but with testimony from Rhonda’s family and friends, Kipe lays the groundwork for an avenue of questioning directed at law enforcement officials.

Although Rhonda was found in Montgomery County, Jeff Davis County took over the case, something that doesn’t sit well with the Coleman family or with Kipe.

In the podcast, Kipe makes a point to interview a number of locals with information about the case, but Rhonda’s family remains frustrated that law enforcement has yet to take significant action.

“Why are there volumes of circumstantial evidence yet no arrests?” Kipe opined when we spoke on the phone. “Why is the district attorney not able to get a copy of the case file? Why is the case file being so highly protected by the GBI?”

Kipe is quick to note that he is by no means anti-law enforcement, but Rhonda’s case is bigger than just Rhonda, he said.

We know things can change with time — new evidence is uncovered, new technology can help evaluate old evidence and new media like podcasts can reach a wider audience.

And maybe, in this case, time will convince someone with information that a young woman’s life is worth more than fear of any consequence.

Read more on the Real Life blog (www.ajc.com/opinion/real-life-blog/) and find Nedra on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AJCRealLifeColumn) and Twitter (@nrhoneajc) or email her at nedra.rhone@ajc.com.

Could Rhonda Coleman’s 1990 homicide finally be solved?

On July 1, 2023, the Coleman-Baker Act was enacted in the state of Georgia, allowing families to request that a cold case be reexamined by law enforcement.

Coleman-Baker Act

The act is, in part, named after Rhonda Sue Coleman, an 18-year-old whose body was found in a wooded area in Montgomery County, Georgia, on May 20, 1990. 

Dateline featured Rhonda’s story in our “Cold Case Spotlight” series in 2018. At the time, we spoke with Layla Miller Marshall, a classmate of Rhonda’s, who found her abandoned car on the side of the road in Hazlehurst, Georgia, on the evening of May 17, 1990, and called the police. “When her dad drove up was one of my most vivid memories. 

He was asking ‘Layla, where’s Rhonda?’ I said, ‘Mr. Coleman, I don’t know.’ And his eyes immediately filled up with water,” 

Layla said. “I could tell he knew something was very wrong right then.”

“Rhonda only lived two miles from my house.” said Layla while explaining why she was driving the same rural road that night. 

Layla Miller Marshall, a classmate of Rhonda’s, who found her abandoned car on the side of the road in Hazlehurst

“As I passed it, I saw that it was Rhonda’s car.” Her description of the moment she recognized the vehicle.  

 “So I turned around and went back.”  Layla's immediate reaction after realizing the car belonged to Rhonda.  

 'I wanted to make sure everything was OK.”  Her reasoning for approaching the abandoned vehicle.  

 Layla saw that Rhonda’s car was running, the lights were on, and the driver’s door was open.  A near‑verbatim description of what she observed at the scene.  

She turned off the engine and went back to her boyfriend’s house to call police.  Her account of what she did next, given the era before cell phones.  

Layla Miller and her boyfriend returned to the car to wait for police.  

These quotes represent the full public record of Layla Miller Marshall’s statements about Rhonda Sue Coleman. No additional interviews, podcasts, or articles contain further quotes from her. All known material comes from the Dateline NBC reporting.

“Our win was getting the Coleman-Baker Act passed. Governor Kemp signed it right here in Athens with us present. It was amazing,” Cameron said.

Our win was getting the Coleman-Baker Act passed. Governor Kemp signed it right here in Athens with us present. It was amazing,”

That day was a bit of a blur,” said Virginia Baker. She thought it was too late for Tara, but hoped the Coleman-Baker Act would help other families. “I wanted to see it help someone else, and I wanted to see it be part of [Tara’s] legacy,” she said.

Neither Virginia nor Cameron expected what happened next.

“You can only imagine the shock – the emotions that hit all of us – when we learned that not only did the Coleman-Baker Act bring about resolution in Tara’s case, but she was the very first case that they solved as a result,” Cameron said.

More than three decades later, Rhonda’s case is still unsolved. But the Coleman-Baker Act ensures it is still active with the GBI.

“We would like to have some sort of closure,” Rhonda’s mother, Gayle Coleman, told Dateline in 2018. “I don’t know if we will ever get all the answers, but we’re not gonna stop trying.”

In 2021, the reward for “information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the person, or persons, responsible” for Rhonda’s death was increased to $150,000.

On the third anniversary of the bill’s passage earlier this week, the Rhonda Coleman Facebook page posted a statement from her family. “We have already seen what this law can do. The Coleman-Baker Act has helped lead to the resolution of cases like the murder of Tara Baker and others in our area and across the state. These are not just cases being closed, they are families finally getting answers,” they wrote.

 “For our family, this has meant something we have not felt in a very long time: hope. Hope that Rhonda’s case will be looked at with fresh eyes. Hope that someone will connect the pieces that have been sitting for decades. Hope that answers are still possible.”

The Baker family finally got the answers they needed. Rhonda’s family is still waiting. “I pray for them every day because I know how hard it is,” Virginia Baker said.

If you have a case to submit to the GBI for review under the Coleman-Baker Act, you can do so on their website.

Coleman Baker Act

Review the Coleman-Baker Act, Georgia House Bill 88, in its entirety.



Latest News on Rhonda Sue Coleman Unsolved Murder

Could Rhonda Coleman’s 1990 homicide finally be solved?

On July 1, 2023, the Coleman-Baker Act was enacted in the state of Georgia, allowing families to request that a cold case be reexamined by l...