My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 122

Episode Date: May 13, 2019

This week’s hometowns include a drug-addicted oral surgeon and a near-arrest in Paris.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This is exactly right. 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. Let's clear space for viewer mail. My sister's favorite segment.

Okay, this is for your sister. Let's give her some respect for the many so. It's Mother's Day. No matter how you got here. Okay. Hello. And welcome to the many so. This is my favorite murder podcast group.

That's right. This is the broadcast group. My favorite murdering. These are your hometown stories. They're your first responder emails. They're your isn't my grandpa crazy emails that you are now sending to us that we read back to you and with love in our hearts. Here's the first subject line.

It is never trust a nice neighbor. Love it. I agree. Right. Hi, Georgia and Karen. I hope you all are ready for a story because this is the one I always break out during icebreakers. We like you.

Hi, we like you. Constant icebreaker life. Hi, you're one of us. Hi. I live in the south, specifically in a town where everybody knows each other. A simple trip to the grocery store usually lasts a few hours because you run into everyone you know. Oh, I love it.

It's not the best. You're lucky. Southern people. I lived with my grandma. She was injured in a car accident that we were both in a few years ago and my father passed away. And after my father passed away, I decided to move in with her to help out. We had a neighbor whom my siblings and I adored because he had gorgeous horses.

Oh, the call takes. It really is. It really is. Every day after school, my sister and I would always go to feed his horses apples. He would always ask about our grandma and even help her out. On various occasions, he would come over and help her install things or with tasks that I could not help her out with while I was at school. One night in October, my grandmother had to go down the road for work, so I was home

alone. I went into the kitchen to get a snack and I saw a massive fire in his yard. There was a glass sliding door in our kitchen so I could see his house 24-7. I didn't really think anything about it because he always had been so kind to our family and I just assumed he was having a bonfire or burning some cardboard he needed to get rid of. The next day while I'm eating dinner, I see five police cars swerve into his yard with their sirens blazing. Oh my God.

What if their sirens were on fire? They light them up and drive down the street. On fire. They were blazing. On fire with sound. Blaring is the word you're looking for. They then proceed to burst into his house and bring him out in handcuffs. My grandmother and I were beyond confused and when we asked for information, the police

refused to say anything. Turns out the night I thought he was having a bonfire, he had killed his wife and was burning her body and the evidence. Oh my God. So our friendly neighbor for so many years turned out to be a murderer and my grandmother and I were in shock for months. Holy shit. Thanks for listening y'all and never trust your neighbors, Jacob.

Oh my God. Twister Rue. Well now my kind of sucks. Why? Well I guess it's from another perspective. It's called, why I lit that fire. It's called Landlord Murderer. Hi Georgia, Karen, Stephen and furry BBs, like BB babies.

Got it. You get it. Huge fan. Devout listener. I have a crush on Stephen. Let's get into it. For my first two years of college I went to a small liberal arts school in a very tiny town.

Sounds idyllic. Sounds. Drugs. Oh bobonic. I lived in a shitty house with three of my best girlfriends. We had a very odd middle-aged landlord who did weird things like paint the carpet blue and then in parenthesis, question mark, question mark, paint the carpet blue. Question mark, question mark.

Those are correct. Those are correct. Yes. This being my first time living on my own, I didn't know it was inappropriate for landlords to drop by and announced and give us bottles of wine and his shitty homemade candles. He kind of gave us the creeps and would often invite us to come over to his place because he had a hot tub. Though we thought he was weird but harmless, we always wanted at least two of us to be

home when he came by. Very good. One day he dropped in to fix the kitchen sink and when my roommate and I were home. He had scratches up his arm and on his face and even though we didn't ask, he explained that he got them from a wood chipper while he was cutting down branches in his yards. We obviously didn't believe him because a wood chipper would seriously fuck you up but we shrugged it off. I didn't know that.

A few days later, we found out he had been arrested. Apparently when his girlfriend had tried to break up with him, he kidnapped her, tied her up in bubble wrap and threatened to kill her then kill himself. Somehow she fought him off and got away and the following day was when he had come over to fix our sink. Oh my God. I know. I'm pretty sure the scratches were from her fighting him off with the knife he was trying

to use to kill her. Whoa. Then says, you go girl. Yes. In the meanwhile, he was sentenced to prison and unfortunately we still had to pay rent. So this is when we get it for free, right? I'm sorry. This is it then.

But we mailed our checks to his daughter so he felt better that he wasn't the one getting the money. I forget the number of years he received but I'm pretty sure he's still behind bars. Stay sexy and only rent from female landlords, Lacey. Gee whiz. Man. Yeah, the drop by thing is not in any way acceptable. Your landlord should never come over unless you haven't paid rent in three months.

Yeah, that's exactly right. Right. Shit. I have to stop saying that. I really mean it though. It's the... Our name is exactly right because you said it all the time so I don't know. It's not going to change.

I mean, I can't... I just don't want people to think I'm doing it like quote unquote on purpose. Like candoring. Because I just like it when things are exactly right. That's exactly right. I like accurate expressions. Georgia, the subject line of this email is my drug addicted needle reusing oral surgeon. Okay.

Right here. So I would say to anybody who is a bit creeped out by bad medical things, you're going to want to jump ahead the 30 button a couple times. I can't do that. For real? Are you no likey? I can't. No, I'm...

You know I love it. Okay, put your finger up if you feel faint. No, I'm ready. I'm ready. Let's go. Hello Georgia. Karen, Steven and Petz. My hometown story is from a suburb of South Denver.

It is my very own oral surgeon who removed not only my wisdom teeth, but my mothers and sisters as well. He was recommended to us by a good family friend who just so happened to also be our dentist. I would assume that if he'd known what this oral surgeon was doing, he wouldn't have recommended his family friends to see him. Oh my God. I'm unsure how he got caught, but in 2012, 10 years after we had been to see him, it

was found out that from 1999 to 2011, this motherfucker was not only committing prescription fraud and using the drugs intended for his patients and treating patients while actually on painkillers, but he was also reusing needles from patient to patient. Oh my God, no, why? Don't do that. Right? That's just... You don't need to do that.

This is absolutely in the doctor death category of bum out things that could happen, doctor wise. Okay. And if you haven't our doctor death... I haven't. I just don't want to. Okay, because if you can't handle these kind of squeamish things, doctor death is like times 25.

Okay. But if you can, it's one of the best podcasts out there. I'm into this right now though. Okay. Keep going. Okay. So, letters were sent to any previous or current patients of his informing them of the situation. Myself, my mom, and my two sisters, one of which who had just had a baby.

So we had the added scare of my nephew's health along with 8,000 other patients of his. 8,000? 8,000. They had to get tested for HIV and hepatitis. Six of his patients had tested positive for HIV or hepatitis. But of course, it is impossible to say whether or not those patients contracted it from his stupidity. Myself and my family all tested negative, praise Steven's mustache.

Oh my God. That was in parentheses. Oh my God. Steven. Look at Steven's embarrassed sunburn face. I gasped genuinely a few seconds ago. You're bright red, but it's also because you went to the Ren Fair in a sunburn, not because you're embarrassed.

That's, the story is already so horrifying. It's horrifying and then you're pulled into it. Yeah. Can't wait. So this family all tested negative and were able to put the whole thing behind us. The state never charged, filed charges against this psychopath, but he agreed to surrender his dental license and license as a oral surgeon. How could they not file charges against him?

I don't know. I'm mad at you. I will call the Denver PD. I wish you would. However, this guy isn't done yet. In 2013, he was pulled over and arrested in Lake Tahoe for driving under the influence of cocaine. Dude.

That's specific. That's very specific. Like how bad are you on cocaine if you're pulled over for it? You're talking so much, you start swerving. He admitted to being a drug addict after his issue in Colorado. My sister who is also obsessed with her podcast and I searched to find any updated information after his arrest in Lake Tahoe, but we haven't found anything. I guess that's a good thing.

Maybe he's sharing dirty needles in the privacy of his own home instead of with patients in a doctor's office. Anyway, thanks for your amazing podcast and the wonderful Murderino community listening to you guys always brightens my day, SSDGM, and always beware of creepy dentists, Ann Marie. Thanks, Ann Marie. Thank you for bringing your story always brightens my day. Any kind of needle, involuntary needle sharing story is a real-

What a bummer. Like you go to these doctors that you should, you trust, like why go to the trouble of getting a fucking dental degree if you're just going to be a piece of shit about it? Well, it's those drugs. I'm sure he started with all the best intentions and then suddenly he's like, I could save a little more money for my cocaine if I reuse these needles. I mean, like it's drug thinking. Oh God, that's crazy.

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It says, no shame girl, I'm a nurse and I have Crohn's disease, so I get it. Okay. Thank you. Support, thank you, thank you. That's beautiful support. Anyways, I was headed to Spain on a missions trip with a friend from college. We had a couple of carry-on bags that her boss had asked her to bring with us. We were supposed to entertain over 100 children for the next week, so the bags contained several

items that would help us remain sane and not want to lock them in a room for a while. One of the bags looked like a men's toiletry bag and contained projector cords. We were going through the Paris security check before heading over to customs and on to Spain. While our carry-ons were being checked, we stopped and the lady took said bag and looked at me and asked to go through it. I obviously said yes, go for it, there's nothing in there but cords. She emptied the contents and then walked it over to the machine that detects if it has a bomb remnants in it.

My friends and I were like, what the heck? She then proceeded to feel around the edges of the bag and finds a small hole in the lining. She then pulls out a bullet and not just one, but three fucking bullets. My jaw hit the ground, I literally could feel my heart racing in my ears and just thought this is the end in the fucking Paris airport of all places. The security officer looks at me and my friend and we both are speechless. They pull us aside after waving the bullets in the air so everyone in the area could see that two young American girls had brought three bullets casually with them to Paris

and started asking all the questions. We were trying to explain the officers that yes, the bags were ours, but no, we did not pack them. They were bought at a secondhand store and obviously we did not mean to bring the bullets. After what seemed like an hour of questioning, they finally took all of our passports and wrote our information down and said, next time, jail. Cool. Cool.

We got to Spain and told her boss the story and he started cracking up laughing so hard that Kelsey and Kelsey and I were just standing there in shock like, no, sir, this is the wrong response and he proceeds to tell us that he used those bags for hunting. Needless to say, that was the last trip I took with her. Love you guys and I'm so grateful for your show. I'm a traveling nurse and love getting to new hospitals and seeking out other murderinos. Stay sexy and check all of your bags, even the lining, Audrey. Oh my God.

What a dick. What? That's so shocking. Like you're just standing there like, now explain these bullets. Yeah. And the whole thing of like, did you pack these bags and it's such a like that you're supposed to pack your own bag? Yeah, exactly.

I did kind of, but not really, okay, I'm not going to read you the subject line on this one. Okay. So three years ago on a Saturday, my friend and I agreed to pick up a King mattress and deliver it to her sister's apartment in Linwood, California. My friend's cousin agreed to let us borrow his monster truck, hell yeah, that neither of us really knew how to drive, but did anyway. We felt stupid, but we were also too cheap to rent a pickup truck.

I got it, dude. I got it. Have you ever been like, was that a thing in Irvine at all, monster trucks? Not monster trucks, but there were definitely like, yeah, big trucks. Yeah. Yeah. In Petaluma, there was a couple dudes and one of them was my next neighbor's friend, Tony Jernberger, who had a truck that had those like crazy wheels so that you couldn't get

into the truck by yourself. Yeah. You guys had like a lot of area to do off-roading. Yeah. Like we didn't have that, so no one cared. Right. But that sounds terrifying. It's totally insane.

And it's a very strange way to go around it, like a little town when you're in this thing that's like, you can also see, you could see him coming. Like you always knew he was there. It's just hilarious. So anyway, and they're just humongous. Yeah. So the idea that it's like, we don't have to rent a truck, we'll just use this monster truck.

This monster, that's not the same thing. It's not. Okay. By the time we'd completed the job, it was midnight, we were both dead tired, about to drop off this monster truck to her cousin and then deal with the long drive home. We had originally reversed into her sister's driveway, so the truck was facing the street. It was so tall, we could look down into the parked cars in front of us. We were starting the truck up when suddenly a white sedan zooms by.

In a split second, we saw the driver's face and it was covered in blood dripping down from his forehead. My friend asked, is this a one way street? And I said, nope, the driver was driving on the wrong side of the road. As we both leaned forward to watch him go, he kept swerving and just barely missing the cars parked on either side of this small street. My friend asked, is he drunk? And I said, yep.

And she said, should we follow him? And I said, yep. And she pulled out of the driveway and followed while I dialed 911. Oh my God, I'm so here for this. So they're chasing a drunk driver and a monster truck. Oh my God. The next several minutes were made up of my friend trying to tail this guy while keeping a safe distance from him at the same time as I gave a play by play of what was happening

to the dispatcher on the phone. We were trying to calmly tell her which streets we were passing as we went, but kept interrupting ourselves with screams of shock at how this guy was driving. At one point, we reached an intersection with several other cars as he began bearing right at the light as if to make a right turn, then suddenly made a sharp left turn despite having a red light. He only just missed oncoming traffic. We weren't complete idiots, so we stayed at the red light, but he pretty much stopped

driving shortly after he made the left turn. He ended up in front of a taco place after just having missed a bunch of teenagers skateboarding on a sidewalk. As we pulled up a safe distance behind him, the dispatcher asks, are you guys in a large white truck? I said yes, and my friend suddenly panicked because we just behaved like semi-vigilantes in a truck that didn't belong to us. So as six cop cars descended upon this drunk driver, she and I took off in the opposite

direction. Oh my God. I wanted to stay and watch what happened, but she didn't want to have to explain our poor choices to her cousin. Stay sexy and don't be a vigilante unless you've borrowed a monster truck, Roxanna. Amazing. Isn't that the best? Heroes.

Yeah, true. Heroes. And they need to get themselves a monster truck. Yeah, I think they earned it. Yeah. Sell the mattress by a monster truck. I always think they were going to ram into the car. Yeah.

And then roll over it, and then it's like, it's big boy. Yeah. Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. Amazing. This is called mascot assault. Mascot assault is how you say it. Don't fuck with baby Shamu. Dear MFM crew and fur babies, I was just listening to MiniSoad 120 and one of the stories reminded

me of an incident that occurred just after college. I spent most of my childhood and college years in central Florida, and it seems to be a rite of passage for many Floridians ended up with a job at one of the many theme parks in the Orlando area after graduating. I was working as a mascot in the park, although not likely the one you're thinking at the time. And this story happened to one of my coworkers. One day as I was coming on shift, I arrived to find quite the commotion in the break prep

room of our office. One of the girls had obviously been crying, and the side of her face and neck were angry right with several obvious scratches. About 15 minutes prior, she had been out in the park greeting a line of children and taking photos when a man who was there with his wife and several small children decided it would be hilarious to take a running start and punch the character full in the head. What? I mean, alcohol is a crazy fun thing.

I mean, for real, Dad. Dude, Dad. Just turn it down a notch. How is it? It's Wednesday. We're just trying to be on vacation, Dad. That's right. Beers cost $14 here.

Why have you had three of them already? The girl in the costume fell. He punched a girl in the face who was in a fucking Disney costume, or not Disney, in front of a bunch of children. In front of... What is wrong with you? The girl in the costume fell and chaos reigned for a few moments while everyone tried to sort out what had just occurred.

She was quickly ushered backstage to assess the damage and security ran the guy down. He and his family were ejected and potentially banned those poor children from the park and our employee was treated for her injuries, which were thankfully minor. Here's the kicker. The employee was only 17 at the time, so not only was he probably banned from ever returning to the park and any of its sisters, he was also charged with assaulting a minor. Shit. The Disney and Don't Attack costume characters, Mandy.

Yeah. PS, I also have several stories of little old grannies grabbing my butt or hitting on me, others while wearing the costumes, because why not? Jesus. Thanks, Mandy. People are so weird. People are the worst people. Did you ever see the video of like, I think it's, what's the dog?

Pluto. Pluto, a character of Pluto at Disneyland and this little kid is fucking with this character, like being a little brat, and the Pluto finally gets sick of it and turns to, like, and pretends to scare it, like, be a monster and yells at the child and starts chasing the child and the kid is having a fucking breakdown. Look it up. You know what I'm talking about, Steven? You've seen it, I'm sure.

Yeah. You can find it. I love it. Fuck that job. Fuck that shit. And inside, it's 200 degrees. It smells. And stinks.

There's no room for snacks. So evil. Please write in my favorite murder at Gmail. We love all your emails and all your stories and all your family secrets, so please let us know. We do. And stay sexy. And don't get murdered.

Goodbye. Elvis, you want cookie? Yeah, I am.