Episode 1: 'It was such a perfect place'

What ever happened to some of the first girls to grow up – and blow up – on the internet? In the late 2000s, YouTube gave rise to a new profession: kid-fluencer – kids making content for other kids, earning millions-strong audiences and massive paycheques. And for years, some of the most popular YouTube videos for girls lived on one channel: Seven Super Girls. It featured a rotating cast of tween and teen girls uploading sketches, skits and vlogs daily. Host Split Screen: There Goes My Childhood, Lauren White was one of them. Over time, they gained billions of views, big-name sponsors, lineups of screaming fans and more money than a child would know what to do with.But with their growing success, came new rules from the man in charge: their manager. He began as a mentor, a kind of father figure. Then, he began dictating how the girls had to look, dress and behave. Above all, they had to look as young as they could for as long as they could. And for years, the girls did as he said… until he was put behind bars for hurting one of their own.Almost a decade after the YouTube empire they built collapsed, the girls are now old enough to tell their own stories for the first time – the fame, the fortune, the friendships and the man they trusted for far too long.About Split Screen: Welcome to Split Screen, an examination of the utterly captivating, sometimes unsettling world of entertainment and pop culture. From reality TV gone awry, to the cult of celebrity, each season of Split Screen takes listeners on an evocative journey inside the world of showbiz. More episodes of There Goes My Childhood are available wherever you get your podcasts, and here: https://link.mgln.ai/TGMCxSP

Throughout the 1980s, Satanic cults were widely believed to be preying on children — torturing and terrorizing them as part of dark rituals. Across North America, there were hundreds of false allegations, scores of unjust criminal trials and countless lives torn apart. But never any real proof. By the early 90s, the panic reached the tiny Prairie town of Martensville, Saskatchewan. And nearly 30 years later, the people touched by it all are still picking up the pieces. So what happened? And why do so many still believe to this day? Originally launched by Uncover on February 5, 2020.

Police Officer Claudia Bryden is drawn into a bizarre case unfolding in the peaceful Prairie town of Martensville, Saskatchewan. What starts with a single complaint about an alleged sexual assault in a home daycare grows into something bigger and more disturbing than anyone could have imagined.

By June 1992, nine people face nearly 180 charges related to the sexual abuse of children who have attended a home daycare in Martensville. Journalist Dan Zakreski revisits the sites of the story that dominated everyone's attention, including a ‘Devil Church,’ and reflects on his own role in spreading the story. Then, we meet a young mother searching for answers who shares her own heartrending story of a childhood turned upside down by the Martensville Nightmare.

As the number of suspects continues to grow, rumours of an underground Satanic cult whose members include police officers have taken root. Saskatoon Police Officer John Popowich finds himself facing “the worst things that a human being can be accused of.”

A local activist in Saskatoon, Marjaleena Repo, says she knew instantly that the accused were innocent, victims of nothing less than mass hysteria. Though she sounds the alarm in any forum she can find, her warnings are ignored.

As devastating as the Martensville Nightmare is for all involved, it’s just one piece of a much bigger picture. FBI special agent Ken Lanning spent the ‘80s trying to figure out what the hell was happening across North America, and why.

How does it come to be that hundreds of children across North America and beyond report such similar crimes? How has a phenomenon that’s never seen a proven case become so real in the minds of so many? And what does it mean for the children at the centre of it all?

Far from healed, the Martensville Nightmare remains an open wound for those who lived through it. And yet for the rest of us, the history is all but lost — a symbol of the broader failure across the board to face the effects of the Satanic Panic head on or to learn its lessons. But, some surprising good did emerge out of all the pain.