Hi, Crime Junkies. I'm your host, Ashley Flowers, and I'm Britt.

And today, I want to tell you the story of a woman who had almost everything taken from

her, even her name. The only thing left behind was a distinctive clue that became a symbol

of her life, a symbol of her brutal death, and the decades-long fight to restore her

identity and finally see justice done. This is the story of Deborah Jackson, or, as the

world knew her for many years, the orange socks do.

On October 31st, 1979, on Interstate 35, which runs through central Texas, just north

of Georgetown, two men are driving down the highway when they look out their window and

see something strange. It looks like a naked woman lying in a drainage ditch under an

overpass with a guardrail up top, but their minds won't even let them go there. The two

guys share a look, and they're both thinking the same thing. It's Halloween. If there

was a day when someone's mind is going to play tricks on them and conjure up something

creepy, it's probably going to be today on Halloween, right? But as they drive by again

to check, the terrifying reality starts to sink in, and they're forced to face the truth,

because right there, sprawled on her side face down in that ditch, is in fact a woman's

body. The two men rush to call 911. When police get out there to the scene, they find the

woman's body totally naked, except for a pair of orange socks and a silver abalone ring

on her right middle finger. They can see some bruises and discoloration on her body, but

nothing to indicate right away how she died. There's also a paper towel with her body

that police think she was using as a homemade menstrual pad.

Okay, so even without visible injuries, they have to be thinking she was murdered.

Oh, definitely, but I mean, aside from a couple of spots of blood, there's nothing to

...