My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 119

Episode Date: April 22, 2019

This week’s hometowns include a therapist stalker and a murderous DJ. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe and downright obsess over true crime and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery, Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music, Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. Hello and welcome to my favorite murder, the mini-soad. This is the mini version of the soad. This is the house. This is the steeple. This is the church. This is the steeple. Open the doors and see all the people writing in their own hometown murders to our website. That was perfect. Thanks. Do you have a good one to end on? Yes. Okay. Can I go first thing because mine's a little depressing. Always. This is called Stocked by My Therapist Mother's

Client. Stocked by My Therapist Mother's Client. Let me read it to you. Great. Hi, Karen, Georgia, Stephen and all associated animals. For HIPAA reasons, I have to leave some details a little vague. I love those stories. Yes, God. Even the vaguest HIPAA story is the best story. Send us your vague HIPAA stories, please. Hey, doctors, nurses and people restricted by the law to tell us things. Yeah. Please write in and tell us things. But then add an addendum of like, don't read this on the air and then like just tell us the good details. We won't tell anyone. That's right. Right? That's going to be. We'll shred that right after. We're going to put that behind a Stitcher Paywall. Yeah. The HIPAA Stitcher Paywall.

You guys love Stitcher Paywalls, right? Right? We all do. Who doesn't? Okay. My mom is a licensed clinical social worker. Back when she was pregnant with me, she was working with a client who grew increasingly jealous of her impending addition. Oh, me. Oh, no. Despite my mom already having one child, her client was insistent that my arrival would mean that my mom would abandon her client. No amount of reassurance would calm her fears and she eventually began to threaten my family, forcing my mom to end all contact with her. I quickly became apparent that her solution to this problem would be to kidnap me so my mom wouldn't have any distractions keeping her from work. Keeping her from one hour therapy

sessions once a week. My mother had to keep the date and location of my birth a secret in order to keep me safe. How fucking bananas is that? It's so awesome. You know, we were never in the white pages growing up because my mom was a psychiatric nurse. Oh, shit. She couldn't be in there. People could look you up and call you if they felt like it. And now we can't do it because we're podcasters. Oh, now I do it. At the time, there was an influx of baby napping in my hometown. Oh, wait, what? Can we hear more about that, please? So everyone was on high alert already. I suppose this worked out well for us because we didn't have any issues for many years. Fast forward to my ninth birthday. We had since moved to

a new state and had an unlisted phone number. On the day of my birthday, someone kept calling and asking for me by name saying they wanted to wish me a happy birthday. The first time they called, someone answered and handed the phone to me. The caller hung up right when I answered. Can I do my impression? Hello. Click. Okay. Okay. Six or seven hang up calls later all answered by my parents and not their nine-year-old. Don't worry. My mom grabbed the phone and said, client name, I know it's you. Stop calling. The caller gasped, hung up and never called again. Moral of the story, be nice to your therapist as they are often risking their own safety to help you. Thank you for all that you do. M. Wow. That's crazy.

That's intense. But yeah, I mean, that's the, that's the thing is that, you know, therapists are talking to and engaging with people in need and people who are need help handling the stuff that goes on in their life. And after a while, you're so grateful. I mean, I have that feeling about my therapist is like, I don't like the fact that when I leave, there's waiting, there's someone else waiting to go in. Seriously? It bums me out. Yeah. Cause you just, you're just another one of them. Yeah. It's just like, it gives you that sense of like when you're in the room, it's just like, she loves my problems. Like you can tell yourself anything. She's so on my side. She thinks I'm amazing. And you walk out and

you're like, look at this loser. And then you're just like, Oh yeah, that's, yeah. I never think of that because my, the office that I go to was kind of a big office. So the waiting room is people that you might not know who they're there for. Oh, you know what I mean? You should try that. I've seen intentionally switched just so for the anonymity. I have seen people I know coming out of the therapist's office so many times. Oh yeah. It's happened to me a bunch of times. And one time it was my friend Stephanie where we both just started laughing because it doesn't bother me at all. I just saw someone the other day. My only thing is I don't like seeing other people with a cry face. Oh, see, I don't cry because

I'm emotionally broken. And so I never have a cry face coming out of therapy. My cry face, I look like I look like a kind of an off brand Star Wars character or Star Trek character is more accurate where my, when I cry, my eyes go bright like white blue with red and the red won't go away. And then of course, all my skin turns red. Yeah. It's really intense. I do wonder if people see Vincent and I coming out of therapy together. And I think maybe I'm purposely trying to look cuddly with him and like happy and we have our arms around each other. And that's when they all go, Oh, he must beat her senseless. I'm going to send the Hollywood reporter over to take pictures of you. I love it. Okay.

The river's edge, this subject line of this is the river's edge of my hometown murder. Oh my God, that movie is so good. Everyone watch it. Yes. Okay. So hi all, your podcast gives me life. All caps into earlier episodes. Karen mentioned the movie, The River's Edge, that terribly acted movie is one of the bragging rights of my hometown of Milpitas, California. Wow. I disagree that it's horribly acted. I think it was the new Verite, but it was very early on. Come on, man. Hey, man. Hey, man. Okay. And I think the little boy on the bike that we've talked about, we've talked about extensively is one of the great child actors of all time. So deal with it. So whoever this is from, immediately contradicting the

poor person who's just trying to send in hometown. Milpitas used to be a small town. To date, there was only one high school. To be fair, the high school has 2,600 students, but no crosstown rival. Thank you for being fair. Yeah, that is fair. It was very much a neighborhood where people knew their neighbors and gossip was plentiful. It was November 3rd, 1981, and a 16-year-old boy named Anthony Broussard raped and murdered 14-year-old Marcy Conrad. The two were friends who hung out in a group known as The Stoners. One day, Broussard invited Conrad to his house. She allegedly said something to upset him. He strangled her and raped her corpse. He then drove her up to the foothills that line the east edge of Milpitas and dumped

her body. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he took as many as 17 of his classmates up to see the body. Some poked at her with sticks, some stared, some claimed that it was a mannequin, and one covered her up with nearby plants. Oh my God. After two days, two of the students couldn't handle keeping the secret. One told the principal and one went to the police. Both of those students were treated like outcasts after telling. Their peers thought they broke some stupid secret code of being a cool teenager. The murder shined a spotlight on a normally sleepy town. No one could understand how so many people could have known and not said anything for so long. It sparked a nationwide discussion about how disaffected suburban youth

had become. Today, Milpitas is great if you love terrible drivers, nerdy engineers, the smell of landfill, and paying $1.2 million for a three bedroom town. Oh my God. I grew up here and married my high school sweetheart 15 years after high school. Our parents, aunts, and uncles all went to school together and the youngest of them went to high school at the time. They all have different stories of how it affected them. I don't really know what is true and what is bullshit. Hey, none of us do. No matter how lame Milpitas is, we can always claim that Keanu Reeves, Crispin Glover, and his weirdly tiny forehead and hey, careful, and the legendary Dennis Hopper were in a movie loosely based on our hood.

Broussard pled guilty to the crime and was sentenced to 25 years to life. As of April 2019, he's still in Folsom Prison. He's been denied parole several times. SSDGM Amanda. Wow. I didn't think we haven't done that one yet. I know. I did not know it was from Milpitas. Yeah, that's right by where you're from, right? Yeah, I believe it's either East Bay or South Bay. Sorry, those of us in the North Bay don't really know what's going on in either of those two places. But she said nerdy engineers, which makes me think closer to Silicon Valley. But I remember seeing that movie and being so disturbed by the idea that kid after kid, there was no kid with the conscience going, what the fuck are any

of you doing? Yeah, it's a fucked up movie. But it's great. Okay, this one is called Escape Canadian serial killer, Alan Leger signed my poppy's outhouse. Is it Leger? Do you know Alan? I don't. Okay, I'm gonna say it's Leger. Okay. The end. Hi from New Brunswick, East Coast, Canada. Why did you give it that voice? I don't know. Like kind of a rebel. Hi from New Brunswick, East Coast, Canada. Yeah. Alan Leger, also known as the monster of Marishi, was an active rapist serial killer in New Brunswick in the 80s. After going down for his first murder, he managed to escape jail. And how he did it is insane. He first gave himself an ear infection by peeing on his pillow constantly in jail. And got himself

a trip to the hospital. He managed to break off the TV antenna in the hospital and hide it up his butt. Oh, then I would hope like is retracted. Gotta hope. Okay. Then after using it to pick his handcuffs, when the guards weren't watching, he used the shit antenna as a weapon and just ran past them to escape. Jesus. Then begins his seven month run from the cops while living in the woods off the land or in people's camps in rural New Brunswick while also being on a made of nightmares killing spree. Oh, shit. My poppy's hunting camp was in a nearby village way back in the woods. The rumor was that Alan Leger was hopping from camp to camp using people's facilities to survive and hide, which would work great

there because most people only really use the camps for a short time during the hunting season. My dad recently told me about Alan Leger and said that pop went to the camp one fall in 1989 and noticed it said Al Leger written on the outhouse wall as if he had left his signature. Oh, now it is very realistic that pop wrote that himself as a hilarious prank because he was hilarious and what serial killer on the run is going to leave his signature behind. But it's also realistic that he could have hidden out in poppy's camp using the same beds that we've slept on and sat in the same outhouse. Pop has since passed away so I can't confirm whether it was a prank. But I'd like to think that since he didn't

fess up to it after almost 30 years that it was a true story because I guess I'm a weirdo who wants a serial killer to have shat in the same outhouse. Anyway, eventually this monster got caught and is currently serving a life sentence in prison. Beth, PS, we'd love to have you on the east coast of Canada, please. Like somewhere around New Brunswick? Like for example, New Brunswick. Is it New Brunswick? Yes. Yes. New Brunswick. New Brunswick. Sounds good. Great. We'll be there tomorrow. Thanks so much, Beth. Thanks for the invitation. That's all we were waiting for. Okay, the subject line of this email is Murderer, Wedding DJ, and a bonus three mile island story. Woo. Dear Karen, Georgia, Stephen, and the

gang. Cute. Huge fan, loved the Philly show, sorry for the arctic conditions, and I've been wanting to write forever. I grew up in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where in 1992, the year before I went to kindergarten, a sixth grade teacher from my school mysteriously did not show up for work one morning. The principal decided to go to her apartment to see if she was okay. I know, just call the cops, man. He found her door was unlocked and that she had been brutally raped and murdered. The case went cold for as long as I can remember. There were signs around the county with her picture asking if anyone knew who killed Kristie Merak. Fast forward to 2018. Thanks to ancestry DNA and similar sleuthing that caught the

Golden State killer, Lancaster law enforcement arrested a suspect after lifting DNA from a water bottle he disposed of at a gig at an elementary school assembly in parentheses, horrifying. The culprit was a popular local DJ, DJ Freeze. I've been reading all about this one. Are you for real? I've never heard of it. I gasped when I heard realizing that he had been on our list of top recommended vendors when we were picking our wedding DJ just a couple months before. Oh my God. We almost hired a murderer. An episode of, it says here an episode of 24 featuring our old principal, but I think that's a confusion because 2020. Yes, I think that's probably 48 hours. Some other number. It's a number

show, but I bet it's not an episode of 24 unless the president is involved. Dennis Haysbert, um, an episode of 24 featuring our old principal and B roll shot at our wedding venue followed shortly after the arrest. It was also a hot topic of conversation at our family Christmas gathering. Then in January, DJ Freeze confessed that scumbag had been walking around for 27 years, living his life without repercussions for what he did infuriating. Luckily he's behind bars now. As a bonus, you talked about the Three Mile Island disaster last week. That happened over my parents wedding weekend. They got married in Lancaster City, which was just outside the 10 mile radius. Oh my God. Just outside it. Unfortunately,

this meant a few guests canceled at the last minute. Fortunately, because so many people evacuated the area, my folks got upgraded to a bigger, better room at their venue. You gotta look on the bright side, people. That's what they say. Really? I might have 12 toes, but um, Three Mile Island didn't destroy their wedding and they just celebrated 40 years of marriage this past weekend. Stay sexy and don't hire a murdering DJ for your wedding E. Their love is atomic. Yes. I've been following this cold case. It was a cold case I've been following since he got caught because we still haven't figured out how they knew each other. But now that she says that he was DJing elementary schools and she was an elementary school teacher.

Yes. And this woman, you just see her photo and she's just a sweet baby angel. It's so awful. And I can't believe it took that long to find him. And I'm so glad they did. Yeah. Because he totally looks like a normal, a normal DJ. I mean, what is that? He looks like the most average DJ. You know, headphones. All right. Looking for a better cooking routine with meal planning, shopping and prepping handled. Hello Fresh has you covered. Hello Fresh makes home cooking easy and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. Hello Fresh meals are convenient, seasonal and delicious. Stay cozy all winter long with classic comfort foods available weekly. Why stop with just dinner? Now you can enjoy

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code murder 20. Goodbye. Hey, I'm Arisha and I'm Brooke and we're the hosts of Wondery's podcast even the rich where we bring you absolutely true and absolutely shocking stories about the most famous families and biggest celebrities the world has ever seen. Our newest series is all about the incomparable diva Whitney Houston. Whitney's voice defined a generation and even after her death, her talent remains unmatched. But her incredible success hit a deeply private pain. In our series, Whitney Houston Destiny of a diva will tell you how she hid her true self to make everyone around her happy and how the pressure to be all things to all people led her down a dark path. Follow even the rich wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad free on the

Amazon music or Wondery app. Here's my last one. Okay. Munch house and by proxy, lighthearted. Okay. Hello, Karen, Georgia and associates, especially Elvis and George. Long time listener, first time emailer here. I finally have a story to tell you. You didn't ask, but I'm sure you'd want to know. I've known about Munch house and by proxy since the Phil Donahue days. Yeah. Then she insults us by saying you girls are both too young to remember this pre Oprah gem. Are you sorry? Are you crazy? I watched that as a child and loved Phil Donahue. That's that was what I did after school. Yeah. Yeah. My pet babies, Phil Donahue. George was on there. Remember when the world went crazy, they're like, who is this person? Why is he dressed this way? And the boy

or a girl? Boy George is like, look, I'm just here to be to bring my music and have a great time. And by the end, everyone's like, we love it. It's the best. Um, but it wasn't until I watched the mommy dead and dearest documentary that it actually dawn on me that a form of Munch house and had happened to me as a child. I guess denial really is the strongest of human emotions. My father was a police officer for 35 years and apparently had a hero complex with a site of Munch house and by proxy. He was also a prolific secret smoker. He, according to my mom, smoked two packs a day, but on the sly. Whoa. Oh, it says, did I mention that my family of origin had issues? Lol. Don't worry, I survived and have lots of therapy. I grew up in the seventies. Unbelievably, people smoked

cigarettes everywhere back then. Yes. The car at home, restaurants in the mall and even at work. The bank gas stations. Like constantly. It's it was everywhere and no one paid it. No one knew the difference. Yeah. I not surprisingly had asthma. In addition, I was and still am allergic to cigarettes, deathly allergic. Combine this allergy with dad's hero complex slash Munch house and by proxy plus his serentipitous smoking. And what happens? Him on a repeated basis, carrying me out to the squad car and mostly rushing me to the ER while my fingers turned blue and finally a shot of ephinephrine. Epinephrine. Epinephrine. I would come sputtering back to life and guess who was the hero and getting all of the attention for my near death experience? Dear old dad. Oh. What

they didn't know is that he would get off his shift at 2 a.m. smoke in the basement next to the forced air furnace and wait. Oh, on purpose? Yeah. I would wake up gasping for breath and trying to cough whereupon he would swing into action and turn into a hero. Oh, no. Then she writes, how on earth is this lighthearted, you may ask? Well, number one, medication is vastly improved and I have inhalers and a nebulizer. Two, I'm still allergic to cigarettes, but we now have clean air laws. And three, dad died from COPD. Oh, shit. Okay, okay. This is a low blow, but I think after all those emergency room trips that I earned the right to have grim and inappropriate humor. Sure. You see, back then the family doctor said I wouldn't make it past 20. Yes, they said stuff like that

back then in front of the kid even. And here I am still breathing well and enjoying my best life over 50. Ha. Thanks for your jocularity in the face of evil. It gives us back our power, Mary. Wow. Isn't that bananas? That is, you don't hear it. I haven't heard it, I should say, of men having it. That's true. You rarely hear that. I mean, you gotta wonder how many cases are out there that nobody knows about because they were doing stuff like that. Yes. Where it's just, you'll never find out. And I think like men being given the benefit of the doubt. Right. And he's a cop too. He's a cop. You just so rarely go, oh my God, he's crazy. Yeah. You know, in that way of like behaviorally based. Yeah. Going there. It would never be suspicious. Yeah. Just be like, oh,

he's done it again. It's not great. I mean, it's just so sad and awful. And I just feel for her that her, you know, you have to grapple with that feeling that your dad was doing something like that. And the fact that she's, she's lighthearted. She didn't have to grapple with it. Yeah. Because she's basically saying that's his thing. Yeah. It was his thing and she survived it and she's fine. She's impressive. Yeah. That's an amazing story. That's why I didn't want to end with that one. Right. Okay. So let's end with this one. This says college self-defense. Okay. Lighthearted. Okay. Hey, I'm FM crew. Love the show. Blah, blah, blah. I'm a public librarian in Buffalo, New York, which means I've seen and heard some crazy shit like the parking lot fight

I've broken up. I like Jane Austen. I like Emily Bronte. Well, let's go fight in the parking lot or the guy who OD on heroin in our bathroom or the coworker who told me that her abusive ex-husband was briefly a suspect in Buffalo's famous bike path rapist case. Shit. He wasn't the guy, but he was a real asshole. Anyway, that has nothing to do with this. When I was in grad school, there was a period where there were a ton of sexual assaults and muggings on campus. Around 1031 night after class, my classmate and I walked out of the building together, but I forgot a notebook and had to run back to the classroom. So we said our goodbyes. I got the notebook and walked back outside to make the long walk to catch the bus when two hands grabbed my shoulders from behind.

Without thinking, I stomped on the arch of the guy's foot and elbowed him in the face. Yes. And the guy yelled, fuck Jill. It was my classmate who I initially walked out with. He thought it would be hilarious to give me a little scare. Deserved it. The next day, his girlfriend asked why he had a fat lip and a bruise on his face. He told her the story and she told him he deserved it. Hell yeah, Brian's girlfriend. Stay sexy and don't go to grad school, Jill. That's the moral of the story. Yeah. Just avoid all of that. I do think that there is this thing, you know, like, yeah, that person, you get to fight back if someone scares you and it doesn't matter if it's someone playing a joke on you. They fucking deserve it. Well, the people that play

jokes and pranks like that have to understand that it's not a joke or a prank to the person before they find out it's you doing it. And so in that span of time, whether it's two seconds or five minutes, they're going to do whatever they feel like doing to you. You know who wouldn't play a prank like that because they understand what it means when someone jumps out at you and puts their hands on you? Another woman. So if a guy is doing that, it's because he doesn't understand how scary it is just to walk at night as a woman. Yeah, I was just not thinking it all the way through. Like, here's a funny, here's a funny joke. Well, it's like, well, now you know from this day forward, it's not a funny joke. Now we have to get pepper spray out of your eyeballs.

Yeah. Can we get more librarian stories, please? Oh, man, if you've got, if you are a librarian of any kind, you know, scary, upsetting, wonderful, hilarious, thrilling, or whatever library stories we want to hear them. 100%. Please, we know you guys see the shit. Yeah. My favorite murder Gmail, or you can go to our new website and do it directly from there. Do it directly from there. Why not? Do it. Why not? Because it's a brand new website. It's been rebuilt. It's so beautiful. We're so excited about it. Also, the fan cult is new. So you might want to, if you've been kicking around the idea of joining the fan cult, there's lots of great reasons to join now. That's right. www.myfavoritmurder.gov. Thanks for listening. Thanks for sending

in your stories and stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Me, me, wanna cookie?