Secrets of Sampson, ‘The Story We Are Finally Ready To Tell’

There’s a version of small-town America that looks good in photos. Church steeples, high school football games, quiet main streets. Then there’s the version people who grew up there actually remember. Sampson County, North Carolina fits both descriptions, and that tension between perception and reality is exactly what producer Monty Hobbs is unpacking with Secrets of Sampson.

The documentary series examines the gap between what gets reported and what locals say actually happened. Questions about money that came to the county, projects that never quite happened, and the decisions that don’t always make headlines but shape lives anyway. The series aims to document these stories with supporting evidence while creating space for accountability and redemption.

Hobbs isn’t new to this kind of work. He started in 2003 as a production assistant on One Tree Hill in Wilmington and spent two decades building a career that prioritized ownership and sustainability over chasing the typical Hollywood trajectory. His previous projects, Divine Renovation and Finding Kindness, picked up multiple Telly Awards and are streaming on major platforms now. But Secrets of Sampson feels different. It’s personal in a way his other work hasn’t been.

The difference shows in how he’s assembled the team. Chad Thompson handles sound and grounds the project in emotion, giving voice to the people. Anthony Davis connects policy decisions to the families who live with the consequences. It’s one thing to talk about municipal budgets in the abstract. The series plans to show what happens when those budgets don’t deliver what was promised.

Bill Hobbs adds something the series wouldn’t have otherwise. He left Sampson decades ago but kept tabs on what was happening back home. That distance matters. He’s watched industries fade, leadership change hands, and opportunities slip away without the emotional baggage of still being embedded in the community. His perspective gives the show an honest edge, the kind that comes from caring enough to stay informed but being far enough away to see patterns clearly.

David Pascua’s work as Director of Photography captures the visual contradiction of places like Sampson County. There’s beauty there, nostalgia even, but also neglect. His lens doesn’t romanticize or condemn. It just shows what’s there, the tension between what these towns used to be and what they’ve become.

Rob Fortunato keeps the production grounded when it gets into sensitive territory. Documentation matters here. Accountability matters. Blake Davis contributes original music that carries the emotional weight without overselling it, southern and cinematic without leaning into cliché. Pat Gallaher shapes how the story translates for audiences outside the region, people who don’t know Sampson County but recognize the dynamics at play. Danielle McHugh’s set photography documents the production itself, the faces and moments that don’t make the final cut but tell their own story about why this project exists.

Hobbs has spent his career building infrastructure for independent storytelling. He runs The Dirty Laundry Picture Company, his production and IP development hub.His approach rejects the traditional model where creators develop projects only to hand over ownership and control. Instead, he’s focused on systems that allow long-term sustainability and creative autonomy. That philosophy shows up in the numbers. His recent projects generated hundreds of thousands of organic impressions within weeks and drew confirmed interest from multiple networks and streaming platforms. Talent like Erik Estrada, Allison Fisher, Wendy Kaufman, and Gloria Gaynor have been part of his work.

His productions air on Amazon Prime Video, UP Faith & Family, and Apple TV. Across broadcast, streaming, print, and digital formats, his content reaches millions of viewers and readers quarterly. He’s earned three Telly Awards, international film festival recognition, and official proclamations for his work. But none of that changes the fact that Secrets of Sampson is operating on different stakes. It’s not just about adding another title to his catalog. It’s about examining accountability in the place where he’s from.

The series doesn’t claim to have all the answers. What it plans to offer is documentation, context, and space for people to make their own assessments. The goal is to document the facts with receipts, give context, and hold space for grace and redemption when people choose to do better. Some of the stories will likely confirm what locals have suspected. Others might complicate narratives that seemed straightforward.

The team continues to expand. More crew members, more interview subjects, more people willing to share their perspectives on record. The first season is just the start. There are more stories the series plans to examine, more decisions to investigate, more connections to trace between choices made in government and their impact on everyday people.

Sampson County’s story isn’t unique. Plenty of small towns across America are dealing with similar questions about leadership, resources, and transparency in local decision-making. What makes Secrets of Sampson worth watching is that it’s willing to ask those questions directly, with documentation to back them up, and without pretending the answers will be simple or satisfying.