Genealogy Whiz Kid Solves 1964 Murder: The Marise Chiverella Cold Case Finally Closed

MJ

Alright, folks, welcome back to MJ on Crime. I am your host, MJ. Today, we’re digging into a case that haunted a Pennsylvania town for nearly six decades—the murder of Marise Chiverella. Now, if you’ve been with me for a while, you know we have covered some dark mysteries before—like the Black Dahlia, the Jack family disappearance, the murder of Hazel Drew, all those cases that stick with you. However, this one carries a different kind of weight for the community and the family. We’re talking about a nine-year-old girl, Marise, who left her house in Hazleton, Pennsylvania, on March 18, 1964, just trying to get to school early. She wanted to bring some cans of pears and beets to her teacher at Saint Joseph's School for a Saint's Feast Day. That’s the kind of kid she was—thoughtful, sweet, just a regular third grader.

MJ

But by the afternoon, her body was found in a garbage dump near an abandoned strip mine. She’d been assaulted and strangled, her hands and ankles tied with her own shoelaces. I mean, you hear that, and it just knocks the wind out of you. The whole town was shaken at this senseless murder. Over the years, more than 250 state troopers worked the case, reviewing thousands of pages in the file and conducting numerous interviews, employing good old-fashioned detective work. However, no luck, no arrests were made. The Chiverella family—her parents, her siblings—they lived with that pain, that not knowing, for decades. Her brother Ron talked about the chaos in the house when she was found, the screaming, the shock, and the family doctor giving sedatives to her mother. It’s the kind of trauma that never really leaves a family, you know?

MJ

And it’s not just the family. The whole community changed after that day. People started locking their doors and watching their kids more closely. It’s like what we saw with the Tylenol murders or the Son of Sam—one crime, and suddenly the whole way people live shifts. These cold cases don’t just remain in the files—they freeze in people’s minds. I’ve seen it firsthand, and I’ll tell you, the emotional toll is real. It’s not just about justice, it’s about healing, and sometimes, that could take nearly a lifetime.

MJ

Now, let’s talk about how things finally started to move. If you caught my episode on AI detectives, you know technology’s been changing the game for cold cases. But in Marise’s case, it wasn’t just the tech—it was the people using it. Enter Eric Schubert, a college student, just 18 years old when he reached out to the Pennsylvania State Police. This wasn’t some seasoned investigator—this was a history major who did genealogy as a hobby. He’d helped people build family trees, but he’d also begun working with law enforcement, utilizing DNA and genealogy to solve cases.

MJ

The police had Marise’s killer’s DNA since 2007, but it never matched anyone in the DNA database. In 2019, they uploaded the DNA profile to a genealogy website, and suddenly, they had hundreds of the killers possible distant relatives to sift through. That’s where Eric came in. He built about 50 family trees, tracing every possible branch, looking for someone who could’ve been in Hazleton in 1964. It’s a massive process of elimination—names, dates, connections, all that. And, you know, the cops were skeptical at first. I mean, the kid didn’t even drink coffee, how do you do good detective work with out coffee?—The kid ordered apple juice at the first meeting. But he came prepared, and he knew his stuff.

MJ

This is what’s wild to me—how a college student, with the right tools and a lot of persistence, can do what hundreds of investigators couldn’t. It’s not just about the DNA, it’s about the digital sleuthing, the patience, the duty-bound troopers chasing every lead. And it’s not the first time we’ve seen outsiders make a difference. We discussed this with the Jack the Ripper case—sometimes it takes a fresh set of eyes, new technology, or, in this case, a whole new generation, to break the silence, to break the case.

MJ

So, after 18 months and at least 20 hours a week of digging, Eric zeroes in on a guy named James Paul Forte—a former local bartender with a record, but never a suspect. Forte died in 1980, so the only way to confirm it was to exhume his body. They matched his DNA to the sample from Marise’s clothing, and the odds of it not being him were, well, astronomical. One in a septillion, if you wanna get technical. That’s 24 zeros.

MJ

When the news broke, the reaction was—well lets just say it was really something incredible. The Chiverella family finally had a name and a face of the killer after 57 years. Ron, Marise’s brother, said there’s always gonna be an emptiness, but knowing the truth helped close that door of the unknown. The cops, too—some had worked the case for decades, some had retired and handed it over, and some were new, starting to work the case for the first time, but it meant something to all of them. And Eric? He skipped three college classes to be at the press conference. The lead investigator, Mark Baron, said they took him out for milkshakes after. That’s the kind of case closure you don’t see every day.

MJ

You know, there’s always been this tension between law enforcement and outsiders—civilians, amateur sleuths, whatever you wanna call them. Perhaps more so than ever, due to the explosion of interest in the true crime genre. But sometimes, you need that outside perspective. I recall a case from my days—won’t go into the details, but let’s say the tip that cracked it came from the last person you’d expect. You got to be open to help, even if it comes from a kid who loves milkshakes.

MJ

That’s how you get results. So, what does this all mean in the big picture? For one, for sure, it demonstrates how far we’ve come in the field of DNA and genealogy. This was the fourth-oldest cold case in the U.S. solved with genetic genealogy, and the oldest in Pennsylvania. It’s not just about catching the bad guy—it’s about giving families answers, giving communities a chance to heal. But there’s another side to it, too. When you start using public genealogy databases, you’re dealing with privacy, ethics, and all that messy stuff. Not everyone’s comfortable with their DNA being used to solve crimes, even if the intentions are good.

MJ

And then there’s the role of the community and the media. The more people talk about these cases, the more likely it is that someone will come forward or a new lead will surface. We've seen that with some of the past cases we have explored—media coverage keeps the pressure on, keeps the memory alive. But it’s a double-edged sword. You have to balance the need for justice with respect for privacy, for the families, and for everyone involved.

MJ

Still, I think the Chiverella case is a reminder that justice isn’t just about punishment—it’s about answers, about closure. And sometimes, it takes an outsider and a whole new set of tools to get there.

MJ

So, what do we take away from all this? If you’re in law enforcement, you have to be willing to work with students, amateur genealogists, and anyone who has the skills and the drive. The old days of keeping everything in-house—they’re over. You need all the help you can get, especially with these cold cases. And for the public, it’s about understanding the risks and rewards of sharing your genetic info. We need more education around privacy, more conversations about what’s ethical and what’s not.

MJ

And let’s not forget the tech. Departments need to invest in training, in new tools, in people who know how to use them. AI, DNA analysis, genealogy—these aren’t just buzzwords, they’re the future of solving crime and cases that have been cold for decades. We’ve seen it work, and we’re gonna see it work again.

MJ

Alright, that’s it for today’s episode. The story of Marise Chiverella is a tough one, but it’s also a story of hope, of persistence, and of what happens when people refuse to give up. We’ll keep digging into these stories, keep asking the tough questions, and keep looking for the truth. Until next time, stay safe, stay curious, and remember—every crime has a story. My mission? Tell it.