My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 121

Episode Date: May 6, 2019

This week’s hometowns include an Easter revelation and an ice-themed rescue story.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 menu sewed. Would you like to see a menu sewed? Oh man. That was good. That was fucking great. This is where we read you your menu and then. Would you like to start off with a beverage? Yeah and you can add to the menu if you want a great idea for a new dish. Yeah like that's how most restaurants work. Yeah.

You can buy a casserole. Yeah. Please do at this place. You know what the chef loves is suggestions. Yeah. That's all she wants. She and he are always open to suggestions and improvements. Just any like, could you put a little more salt on that? Try salt. Try this email. Are you ready? Why don't you put some seasoning into this. On this motherfucking email. In the episode. Okay go ahead. This dish. The subject line is another power ranger parentheses attempted murder. Oh shit. Get ready. Stephen, hold on to your butt. Stephen, get ready for the facts. Hi. In the summer of 2017. Best yet. Best yet.

Congratulations. You win for the intro of the year award. In the summer of 2017, I was attending Phoenix Comic Con where one of the featured guests was the green power ranger, Jason David Frank. That's three fucking first names as a name. Okay. God bless. God bless you. If one gets broken, fucking move on to the next one. Switch them up. Switch your route. If you want to know more about this character's origin, you're gonna have to ask Stephen because I have no fucking idea. Anyway, a dude attending the convention was posting some really weird and concerning things online about killing people at the event. Oh dear. An acquaintance of this guy did the right thing

by reporting his post to her local authorities in California. When Phoenix police responded to the threats, they located the man who had three handguns, a shotgun, a combat knife, pepper spray, and throwing stars on him. Oh my god. He had somehow gotten around the convention's security guards and what? Prop checking station and just waltz inside with the intention of killing the green power ranger and Phoenix police officers. That was the plan. He was charged with attempted murder, resisting arrest, multiple counts of aggravated assault, carrying a weapon in a prohibited place, and wearing body armor during the commission of a felony. And in parentheses, didn't even know that was a law, but okay. I recently checked his court records and as far as

I know, there hasn't been a trial or sentencing so far. There's some semi-secret news articles about mental competency hearings for him, so I assume he's trying to plead not guilty and may possibly go to trial. While all of this was happening, I was standing outside of the convention center in the 100 degree plus weather heat. Sorry, the 100 plus degree heat. I mean, it's weather. It is weather, technically, but specifically hot weather, waiting to get inside to attend a panel by one of my favorite authors. After two hours of waiting outside and already missing the event I was there for, I said, fuck this and want a day drink at a nearby hotel pool. When I found out that this murder plot was the reason I didn't get into the con,

murdering me was a little disappointed by not getting to know all the details. But anxiety me was pretty stoked that I was far, far away from this and that no one died. Additional sidebar. The convention keeps inviting the green power ranger back as a guest each year, so I guess he does not fear death and probably shouldn't be fucked with. Stay sexy and don't ruin Comic Con by trying to murder a power ranger, Jen. You got to imagine that next year, their security is going to be pretty fucking tight. Yes. Like the tightest of all the cons. I would hope, yeah. Green ranger would hope. Well, I feel like nobody expects it until it happens and then it's like, oh, we should have, we should have been paying better attention.

But it makes sense is like if everyone's dressed as like, what do they call them? Action figures? Yes. Everyone is dressed as a Barbie or a can or a skipper. You have to pick one of those three. And Barbie always carries a weapon with her. A lot of people don't know that Barbie is really good at throwing stars. That's right. She can just, she can hit a target from 50 paces. In fucking, on tippy toes, on constant tippy toes. The woman cannot bend her feet. Nope. She is constantly on permanent tip toes. That's right. Because of the war injury she has in both feet. It's sad. That's an awful scary story that you just told me. It's pretty bad, right? Yep. Here's one called, maybe he just wanted a grilled cheese. Hey gang. Nice. This creepy story took place in the early

90s when I was four or five. One afternoon I was sitting on the living room rug watching Sesame Street when my mom was in the kitchen making grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Yeah. Suddenly a disheveled looking man opened our front door and walked in mumbling something incoherent. Being a naive kid, I casually called out, Hey mom, someone's here. My mom poked her head out of the kitchen and saw this guy standing in our house just a few feet away from me. She immediately reached back into the kitchen, grabbed a knife and screamed all caps. Get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops. At which point I finally realized something was out of the ordinary. Something out of the ordinary was going on. The man just turned

and walked back out the front door still mumbling. Yes. To my mom's credit, I don't remember being especially frightened by all this. I was mostly shocked to hear her say the F word. The town religion had a large homeless population and it's likely this man was just struggling with mental illness and or substance abuse, but I truly don't think he meant any harm. I bet he smelled that delicious gooey grilled cheese and thought he would pop in for lunch. Sure. I don't think my mom even filed a police report. Looking back on this as an adult, I can't imagine how terrifying that experience was for my mom. And I shuttered to think about how differently the situation could have turned out if he'd had different intentions or if my mom had not reacted so quickly.

So I guess the moral of the story is stay sexy and lock your fucking doors. Lock your fucking doors. And then here's her name, Brie. Oh. Like cheese. Like a grilled cheese. I don't even know if she realized. Fematic. No, because you wouldn't make a grilled cheese with Brie. That would be not. You're right. Well, have you had a BLT with Brie? I don't like Brie. I told you my Brie. You told me many times that I went to an Oscar party. Everybody made baked Brie. Oh, yeah. So there was nothing else to eat, literally, but baked Brie. And I never had it. So I was like, oh, this is good. And everybody made it slightly different. This one has cranberry on it. And this one has a sauce, whatever. And two thirds of the way through the Oscars, I was like, I have to go

home. And I walked into my, it took me, you know, 10 minutes to get home. I walked into my apartment door and just barf. Because there's, you can't eat that. You can't eat Brie for dinner. No, no, no, no, no, no. It's small amounts. Yes. Or large amounts after dinner. Yeah. Something. It's just non barf amounts. Exactly. We learn this is how we live. And we learn to quote Alanis Morcett. The subject line is accidental kid injury. Hey, MFM fam, I'm a speech language pathologist in a preschool in upstate New York and survive my long commute thanks in large part to your podcast. Some of my co workers might find it weird for me to be listening to murder stories when I'm pulling into work, but fuck them. Hearing the American flag story. And he showed 118 reminded

me of an accidental kid injury that happened to me in the early 90s. I thought you might enjoy. So if somebody doesn't know, I overjoyed to update you. The American flag story is somebody wrote in saying that when they were like eight years old, I think they were on a step ladder. And for some reason they were holding a little American flag on a stick in their mouth. And then they fell and the stick from the American flag got jammed into their tonsil. But they were fine. Okay. And for some reason, it makes me laugh harder. Kid logic. So we're back in now. My mom is a registered nurse. And when I was around four or five, she was working in an oral surgeons office. One night I was sitting on the couch watching TV with my brother and sister while

our mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner. I was digging around in the couch cushions for treasure as one does. I'm sorry, I was digging around in the couch cushions for treasure. And what luck I found a piece of candy tucked away in the cushion. So I quickly unwrapped it and ate it before my siblings could steal it or tell on me. My next memory is standing above a pasta pot spitting out blood, sobbing and screaming. It turns out the candy I found was a glass capsule of an ammonium carbonate aka smelling salts used to treat fainting, which shattered when I tried to eat it. No. Presumably, the capsule had been in the pocket of my mom's scrubs and had fallen out and gotten lost in the couch. My mom says she remembers me running into the kitchen with

blood pouring out of my nose. But having no idea what happened. I mean, that alone is why I can't be a parent. That alone, the shock of things you don't expect where you're like, sorry, how do you have an American flag in your eyes? How did you hurt yourself? What are you doing? Okay. So unsure if I had actually ingested anything from the capsule, my mom called poison control. Their response was that they didn't know what she should do. And then on all caps. Good job, guys. My mom decided to give me some milk and call it a night. Yeah, milk. That's the one. Why an RN needed this on the ready is still a mystery to me. Smelling salts because people faint and you have to wake them up. Yeah, but you'd think that you

have to empty your pockets before. It's like, you know, like at a retail store and they're like, they check your purse on the way out. Yeah, it should be double time at a fucking hospital. One would think, but who's going to do it? Who's going to take the time? Stay sexy and don't eat couch candy, Jenny. I love that so much because that that thing of it's the thing you forget when you're an adult, but when you're a kid and this used to happen to me and my sister all the time, finding a good food is that the other one couldn't get. Like if I had anything, my sister would grab it out of my hand. Like that was you were constantly fighting for. So it's like, oh my God, a mini Snickers in the couch. You would just like

try to eat it before someone took it from you. Yeah, because that's all it was is fighting for things. It's fighting for things and like older siblings taking shit out of your hands because they can. I remember to go grocery shopping the next day, like the entire box of crackers would have been eaten by my brother. Yes. You're like, I don't even, you weren't even, I got this awake the whole time. How did you fucking eat that? Yes. It was a real bummer. That's why you love crackers so much. That's why I hate my brother. Crackers. Crackers. Okay. Your brother's name's crackers. Mr. Crackers. All right, this is called Easter revelation. My mom almost killed me. Ooh. Lighthearted. Nice. Great. Hi everyone and new Steven. Oh, what about old Steven?

Wait, do they mean J? They mean J. Oh, that's Steven. This past Easter weekend, I was dying eggs with my mom. Are you five? We were talking about our earliest memories and I mentioned my first surgery when I was about five years old. I had a growth on my eyelid and a couple of precancerous moles. So my mom had the doctors remove them all at the same time. I only remember choosing bubblegum space gas and the ride home from the hospital. Yeah. My mom took me to the store on the way home and said I could get whatever I wanted. And you're so high that you got it all. That she chose Play-Doh. She said, I chose Play-Doh. My mom was super clean and never let me have it otherwise. I got back to the car and suddenly threw up everywhere. In the present, my mom looked at

me earnestly and asked, is that all you remember from that day? Uh-oh. I replied curiously, yes. Then she proceeded to tell me something she has never told anyone before. She said that she was extremely nervous the entire day because of the surgery and became even more flustered with the chaos of my vomit explosion inside the car. She noticed a red light a bit too late and stopped fast and I flew right into the dashboard. In the chaos, she forgot to buckle my seat belt. This was the 80s, so at five, I wasn't required to sit in the car seat in the back. No hell no. No, you weren't. You were required to sit like in the face first into the fucking windshield. That's right. You're required to be a part of the dashboard. You were basically

the fucking airbag. Yes. You were your own airbag and you were strong enough to be. Um, I was dazed but okay and apparently it knocked that portion of my memory right out of the... Yeah, it did. She said she felt so horrible. She accidentally projected her little girl covered in vomit and bandages right into the dashboard of her car. When she told me this, I laughed hysterically until I was in tears. I brought it up at Easter dinner. Yes, she did. She looked embarrassed. She said, you're going to tell all your friends this story, aren't you? Yes, we are. I replied, hell yeah, I am and I'm studying this story to my favorite podcast. Thank you for the amazing community you've built. I went on my first solo trip this year to the East

Coast just to see you in Philadelphia. The Philly murderinos were so welcoming and invited me to the after party at the Tavern on Broad, which is in the basement at the Bellevue Hotel. Yes. The hotel Georgia spoke about in her story that night. Yes. It was the coolest coincidence. I also went to NYC in Boston during that trip and knocked off several bucket list items, including seeing my grandpa's name on the memorial wall at Ellis Island. Whoa. Without you, your podcast and the community you created, I would have never been able to recognize the strength and confidence I possessed in order to do something like this, especially with a head injury. So brave. That was me. I don't think I could ever meet you guys in person because all I would do

is bottom my eyes out while hugging you, which is fine. That's what we like. We're totally fine with that. It would kind of require it. Thank you for everything. Love, Kirime. Nice. Thanks, Kirime. Oh my God, that's hilarious. Dude. You know what's funny too is that the mom in the chaos didn't do the one thing that my mom would do even if the stop was very light, which is throw an arm across, which is a very, it doesn't happen anymore. It doesn't need to hit. I do to my purse. Do you do to your purse? I do it to whoever's there. Sometimes I do it to Chris Fairbanks and do you need a ride because I am so, I'm such a bad, strange, fantasizer world. Suddenly I'll be like, I'm driving. Stop doing that. I'm driving. I'll be like in a weird world. Looking for a better

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which is hard to do on my own. It gives you everything, everything you need. So get up to 20 free meals with purchase plus free shipping on your first box at hellofresh.ca slash murder20 with code murder20. That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to hellofresh.ca slash murder20 and use code murder20. 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. The last one for me. I won't read the subject line because it's good. Yeah, do it. Hi friends. My grandma Ma was an amazing woman who grew up in super rural West Virginia. She was growing up at the height of the Great Depression. So she had lots of stories to share about how her family cut corners and made life work. Love it. One of the stories she told was about her grandma's haunted house. Ma said that

her grandpa quote had a touch of the crazy and he didn't trust banks. So he would bury any extra money he had in the backyard. Ma said she remembered watching her grandpa dig a hole and plop down a mason jar. She said it wasn't tons of money. Ma guessed maybe 50 to $75 parentheses. What would be around $1.7 million today? And then one of those laughing emojis. Close parentheses. When he died, the family tried to dig around and find it to help with the expenses, but they only found a few empty jars. His jar bearing wasn't a secret. So they figured someone just stole the cash and reburied the empty mason jars. A couple years later, Ma was spending the night at her grandma's. She said she woke up for no reason and saw her grandpa standing at the foot of her bed. Ma said

she wasn't scared. So she just watched him. He smiled at her and pointed at a spot on the floor up against the wall where two pieces of baseboard met. She said he disappeared after that and she just went back to sleep. Parentheses. I would have woken up the entire damn house, but whatever. Close parentheses. Ma told her dream the next day. And of course she told my ma that it was just a dream. Ma's grandma believed her though. Her grandma told that her grandpa told her that he had buried a few decoy jars in the yard. Brilliant. After they couldn't find the money, her grandma figured they were all decoys and the money was lost. She had Ma point out the baseboard and had her dad rip it off. You guessed it. No, no. Inside the wall was a mason jar stuffed with cash.

Oh, I am. Ma died in 2007 and I cherish her stories just as much as her handmade quilts. I might not be able to come back from that. My favorite story involves a teenage ma jumping on a police officer's back in the middle of a bar. Long, hilarious story, but it shows that her grandpa wasn't the only one in the family with a touch of the crazy. Stay sexy and wake up the whole house when you see a ghost, Heather. What was the name of that subject line? Ghosts, things and walls, grandma's, all exclamation points. That's beautiful. I mean, the money was where the ghost pointed it. That's bananas. Are you a believer now? I believe you. I believe you. Here's what you want. I believe you. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are real. Grandpas are real.

Grandpas are the realest. Mason jars are unfortunately a thing. They are and they're everywhere. They're always buried somewhere. Don't trust banks. No. That's about it. Yeah. Oh, I have one more. Okay. Grandpa and uncle save life, lighthearted. Just the one life? I guess. Is that not enough for you? Let's see who's it is. Is one life not important? One life. One life? As many. MFM fam. I'll start by telling you about my great uncle Dick. Built his own house by hand on a ranch in Florida, dug his own pond by hand and no teeth because he doesn't want to wait at the dentist for dentures. He's got ponds to build. That's right. Last time I saw him, he said he got a cat. I asked his name and he just shrugged and said, I just call him kitty.

He even rescued a dog that four families had given up within a year because the dog was quote, untrainable. Those fucking families are untrainable. That's right. Also, who needs to train dogs? As a person with two dogs that run the household, it's more fun. They're still fucking amazing. Anyone can sit. Yeah. Watch. I fall over. His farm includes a dog, cat, two miniature donkeys and a mule. All in all, a badass with no patience for bullshit and yet an animal lover. And no patience for teeth. Okay. Long ago, Dick and his brother, my grandpa, were out ice fishing on a property with lots of ponds. So if you saw someone on a pond, you just go to another. They didn't see anyone on their walk to their favorite pond. They were there for about 30

minutes before my grandpa heard someone yell, help. Oh, he tells Dick and Dick replies, I didn't hear shit. Dick. So about five minutes later, my grandpa hears it again and says, Dick, I really hear someone yelling help to which Dick replied, you're just old and hearing shit. I have better hearing than you and I didn't hear it. My grandpa ignored him and listened for about a minute and and realizing the nearest pond was about half a mile away. He couldn't have heard anything. Five minutes later, my uncle jumps out of his chair and took off sprinting. My grandpa shocked, yelled, where are you going? And Dick replied while sprinting away, someone's yelling for help. So my grandpa took off running after him. They got to the nearest pond and found a guy

who had fallen through the ice while trying to save his dog who had fallen through as well. Being in the woods, my grandpa scooped up a long stick. The guy grabbed under the large stick and they pulled him out. Then they focused on the dog. The dog wouldn't grab onto the large stick. What a dick. Because he was panicking. They said. Because he was untrainable. Not because he was untrainable. Sit, grab the stick. Sit, grab. Grab it. But thinking in a panic, my grandpa literally ripped a small tree out of the ground and used a small branch of the tree to loop onto the collar of the dog and pulled him out. Yes. Everyone's to ride on my grandpa and Uncle Dick both received outstanding citizen trophies from the city for saving a life. I only found out about

this with my grandpa and I were cleaning out his storage room and I found the trophy. Oh, I'd kill for that trophy. That's right. Maybe we'll get it. Thank you for reading. Stay sexy and if you hear someone yelling for help, you should probably just go check it out, Erin. I just like to picture that that trophy, they just had to grab a baseball trophy from a local trophy store and like snap. Just snap the like sport off. And like put like a cauliflower on it so it looks like a tree instead of a. Here's you holding not a not a bowling ball. Would you look at yourself? Look how great this looks. Amen. What a great collection of stories and lore. You guys, please send yours in to my favorite murder Gmail. So many good grandpa and grandma stories. Yeah,

all of those will laugh. We'll cry. We'll look. We'll listen. Make us feel. Make us try. It's your job. I doubled area. Good luck. Yeah. Stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, you want a cookie? Good boy.