My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 129

Episode Date: July 1, 2019

This week’s hometowns include a tip about eyeballs and a ‘last’ responder 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 the mini-sode of my favorite murder. This is where you guessed it. You read, we read. No. Hold on. What did you guess? Where am I? Because what happens is not that you read, but that we read your emails. Surprise. Oh my god, did you guess it? Yeah. There's no way you guess what I just said. Shockingly, this is not our first episode of the show. If you couldn't fucking believe it. Shockingly, sisters, we've done this. We've done this, what, a hundred times? Oh,

at least. Still not going that well. I feel like our aversion to ever making an intro that would actually be considered professional or solid or helpful in any way. When we ever said we're professional, solid or helpful, I mean, never. We do not make that claim. We've never claimed that. You can't find it on a piece of paper. Yes, our book is called a fucking self-help book in the self-help section. That wasn't our idea. We didn't want that. We know we can't help you. You can only not help yourself. Can I go first so you can go last? Of course. Because I don't want my last one to be plus. It's fucked up. Okay. This is just called hometown story. Okay. Hello, Karen, Georgia, Stephen and respective animal types. My best friend and I grew up in a tiny town in eastern

Washington state and spent the summer in between the years of our undergrad working for the housing and dining maintenance department at the university 15 minutes drive away. I thought it was the university called 15. That's crazy. It must be for math majors. It's called pie. The job itself was actually completely absurd. Our duties include our duties involved changing out every single battery and every single smoke alarm on all the campus owned dormitories and apartments. Amazingly enough, there were enough smoke alarms to pay 220 something's good state money all summer long. Hell yeah. Well, I bet you that's some kind of law. Like you cannot have a half drained battery or whatever. That's true. Depending on the size of the dorms, we'd spend anywhere from a few days

to a couple weeks doing batteries and we were almost always in the halls by ourselves. There was one particular hall we absolutely dreaded having to go into. Our heebie jeebies would start as soon as it appeared on our schedules and last a solid week after we finished up. The dorm called Stephen's Hall was built in the late 1800s and is true fact, the oldest continuously inhabited building west of the Mississippi. Wow. Good for you. Good one. The place looks eerily like the house of the seven gables. It's filled with narrow hallways with low ceilings and has almost no natural light. Perfect. Yeah. From the 1800s, it smells mixed dingy wallpaper, pink carpet and fluorescent lights and you've got a recipe for the spooks. Sorry, really quick. Yeah. It's a house of seven

gables style house. Can I ask you that? You might cut this out. What is the house of seven gables? Well, in my mind, it's almost like a Victorian or maybe even pre-Victorian. It's literature, right? So it's like tall gables. Gables are those things that come out on really fancy houses and they have their own little. Clark Gable, yeah. They have a little pencil thin mustache. Yeah. And there's like a tower. I'm just saying my thing is it's an old house with fluorescent lighting. That's demonic. Also pink carpet, you know that like old folks home, pink carpet-y type of thing. Yeah, not cool. Not fun. No. Okay. So one day our supervisor overheard us talking about how creeped out we were by having to go into Stevens alone and was like, you know, there was a girl murdered

in that hall. Whoa. So I went on the internet and low. He was correct. In the 1970s, a sweet baby angel named Joyce LePage liked to sneak into the hall in the summer, play the piano and even stay the night in the rooms there. I don't know her circumstances, but it sounded like the dorm was a place of sanctuary for her. One day, a custodian in the hall found a large section of carpet removed from the lobby of the building. Around the same time, Joyce LePage was reported missing. Sadly, nine months later, her skeletal remains were discovered in a ravine about 10 miles from town. While many theories have been explored, only one element of the story is known to be true. She was most likely killed in the hall. Her killer has never been found, but some people

are continuing to search for answers to find justice for Joyce. Good. I remember the story hitting me hard because I was almost the same age as Joyce when she was killed in the building and also because the idea that we can never be completely safe, even in our most trusted places, became a little truer that day. Thank you for all you do to give people like Joyce a voice, SSDGM, Emily. Oh, nice. No, thank you for giving us credit. I also, yeah, really. But I also like the fact that it's like you should listen to your gut if you go into a place and it freaks you out. Totally. There's a reason and we do have these instincts that modern life is kind of dead end probably. If you're creeped out by it and on the job, quit. Run. Trust your gut. Also, if you just

don't like your job, quit. Oh, yeah. I mean, get another job secured because you have to pay rent. Yeah, that is a good idea unless you move back in with your parents. Try something fun. You've always wanted to bartend. Get back there. Yeah. And drink while you make drinks. One for them, two for you. That's right. That's the old rule. So this, the subject line is a pre-first responder hometown murder. Hello, all. Okay. So, H-O-K-K-Y. Love it. In 2012, I was what I like to call a pre-first responder. I was a 911 dispatcher for the county. In October, I took a 911 call from a male subject who had been out trap shooting in a field with a few of his friends. He had stopped to pee off a bridge and when he looked down, he saw the body of a woman. Can you imagine the therapy

he needed after that? Yeah. I sent the proper authorities out there, the actual first responders. The poor woman had been in the water long enough that when they asked me to check local agencies for recent reports of missing women, they couldn't even specify a race. As far as dispatching goes, this usually is where the stories end. However, not long after this job, I took a job as a parole officer, which is more of a last responding situation. At least you got your humor. You're funny. That's right. About a month into this job, during my training, I sat in on a parole revocation hearing for a man who had been, really been on a tear as far as his parole was concerned. Positive drug tests, domestic battery charges, violation of protection orders,

fighting with parole officers before my time, sadly. Jesus. And finally, cutting off his GPS monitor and absconding supervision. I mean, how many, is there a three strike law? There's got to be. I feel like that's all the strikes you could possibly have. I feel like there's a one strike law as a parole. Yeah. Cutting off that GPS monitor should be like ding. It turns out that this man was the ex-husband of the woman in the creek and the prime suspect in her murder. But he had not been charged with that crime for lack of evidence. His parole was revoked and he was returned to prison for 15 months. In July of 2014, he was released from prison. Approximately seven weeks later, two subjects were found shot to death in a burning house along with their dog. Our friend,

I know, our friend from above was named as the suspect in these murders and he absconded his parole again, but was picked up soon after. After two years of court proceedings, including one mistrial, good God, he finally pled guilty to two counts of murder, second degree, and two counts of abuse of a corpse with the arson charge being a null prost, N-O-L-L-E-P-R-O-S-S-E-D. Never heard of that? It seems cool. We should look it up. Unfortunately, he received only 12 years in prison for these offenses. The good news being that he has to do all 12 years and is ineligible for parole. The rumor is that these two individuals were the only ones that could implicate him in the murder of his wife. So sadly, that crime probably will never be solved. But the official

word is that he murdered the male victim over an $80 drug dispute, the female because she wouldn't stop screaming after he shot the man and the dog for making too much noise. Anyway, this has been the only crime that was more or less bookended by my career choices. Stay sexy and change jobs to follow a murder case, Chelsea. That's unbelievable. Okay, here's a list of things we need to change. We need a one-strike law for parole violations and also you can't get 12 years for two fucking murders ever. I mean, I know you maybe, okay, I'm going to tell the lawyers how to do this real quick. Okay, I mean, you know what? Write it up first and then submit it. Okay, submit it in writing. Got it. Wow, that's crazy. It's so crazy. That time I was almost recruited

for a sex trafficking cult. Okay. And it starts y'all. Y'all. About a month ago, my friend Lauren and I decided to meet up for a quick shopping trip and an ACI Bowl. How do you say it? I think you did it right. ACI Bowl at a nearby mall. This sounds like a very 16-year-old thing to say, but we're very much grown-ass women. Well, trying to enjoy our Barry Bowles outside, three women approached us. They were dressed very professionally and asked if they could ask us a question. We are both too polite, so we said yes. I get it. Can we ask you a question? No. I know. But also, like, what are they going to fucking say? Yeah, it's kind of, you're just curious. Kind of interesting. Yeah. One began to ask us random questions about if we

had ever heard about God the Mother. She then proceeded to read some scripture that apparently alluded to God the Mother and was asking us more questions and sharing. We both had a kind of glazed over expressions. I kept eating, nodding, but not really listening. It seemed like she was trying to put a feminist spin on it, but it wasn't really landing. After a while, she asked if we'd be interested in coming to a Bible study class to discuss it. We both very politely said no, then tried to jump back into our conversation, making it very clear we were done with the conversation. Then they asked again if we'd like to give her contact info for this study, and we said, no. That was my emphasis. But I'm imagining. That's how it absolutely would be.

No. No. They eventually left. We rolled our eyes, but didn't give it another thought. Until today, all caps. Lauren sent me a screenshot of a post she saw. It was warning women in Charlotte where we live that there are well-dressed women approaching women at malls and outside shopping centers in the area, asking them to join Bible studies to talk about God the Mother. Stephen, we look this up to make sure it's not a creepypasta. Look up God of Mother in Charlotte. Okay. That these women are part of a sex traffic ring slash cult. It warned that they are approaching younger women. Why was I momentarily flattered when I read that part? I'm 37. What's wrong with me? Look, we take what we can get where we can get it later. What's wrong with you is that

you're our best friend. And that no matter what, do not go with them. Do not say you want to go to the Bible study. Do not give them your contact info. We're all like, no shit. Many women started replying that they've seen them around town, spoken to them, and that as soon as the Bible study women see security or police, they scatter. I'm just like, all right. I mean, who among us? Same as skateboarders, so I mean. One woman responded that she saw one of these ladies talking to a man in a blacked out van and left with him. It's one of those things where we aren't sure if it's a weird urban legend or what, but considering it just happened to us, we freaked out. And then we both said, all caps, we have to email our BFFs Karen and Georgia. We both are grateful for the

love of true crime and MFM because it kept us from being too polite. Stay sexy and just keep eating your osteoibole, Kendra and Lauren. Yes, Kendra and Lauren. Good for you girls. Very good work. Well, also that's that thing. First of all, I was like, is this nexium? That would be so exciting. We're like, did you recognize anyone from Smallville in that conversation? But that idea that people are fishing using women and, you know, some kind of like the world together and the sisters. Her name's Ivanka Trump. Don't fucking fault. Don't buy it. Get away. Get away. Run away. That's right. Stephen, did you find it? So they're not sure the source. They said they've heard these reports of this group and the warnings. That's creepy pasta.

But they haven't like they haven't been able to like track it down or confirm if it really is. They're telling us an experience they had. Yeah, why would they lie to us? Well, and also just because they can't track it down doesn't mean it's not a creepy thing. Right. Yeah. So it stays. And it this stays. Stephen, I swear to God, if you cut this, I'll fucking fire you. That's my new bit. Okay. 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

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hellofresh.ca slash murder20 and use code murder20. Goodbye. Hey, I'm Mike Corey, the host of Wondery's podcast against the odds. In our next season, three masked men hijack a school bus full of children in the sleepy farm town of Chowchilla, California. They bury the children and their bus driver deep underground, planning to hold them for ransom. Local police and the FBI marshal a search effort, but the trail quickly runs dry. As the air supply for the trapped children dwindles, a pair of unlikely heroes emerges. Follow against the odds wherever you get your podcast. You can listen ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Are you ready? No. My dad, a SWAT team and Filet of Fish. Oh, I love it. I love Filet of Fish.

Hi. Do you really? Oh my God, they're so good. I'll never, I'll never eat them and I would never will again my entire adult life. But shit, they're good. Are they really? It's disgusting. I mean, you, and you know that I hate fish, right? Yeah, but you seem like you want to try it. I'm going to right after we, but okay. Hi, MFM cohorts. Years ago, my dad was driving his mom, my grandma, around town for errands. As any good Catholic smack dab in the middle of Lent is want to do, she insisted on a Filet of Fish for lunch. They pulled in the drive-through, procured her fish fix and started on the way home. My grandma suddenly started choking as she aspirated some of that flaky Filet of Fish crust. Sorry, we're not laughing at a grandma. No. Oh my God. No.

My dad jumped into action, quickly pulled to the side of the busy road, went around to the passenger side of the car and started to yank my gasping grandma from the car in order to help her. Once he managed to get her on her feet outside of the car, they realized they were encircled by a dozen or so SWAT members in full gear. What? My dad and grandma, who was suddenly cured from her choking by the shock of having multiple rifles pointed directly at her, threw their hands up in complete confusion and probably shot a brick or two. Apparently, the SWAT team had been searching the area for an armed and dangerous suspect. The frantic movements of my dad, a behemoth of a man, pulling the teeny old lady out of a car,

grabbed their attention. Oh my God. They thought he was in the process of carjacking her. They acted accordingly. Once the confusion had cleared, my grandma took full advantage of the situation, lavished in all the attention and unabashedly flirted with the members of the SWAT team. Yes, girl. Girl, this grandma would have too. She's living her best fucking life. Can you imagine eating a filet of fit oats? SWAT, that's some high level response shit. That's right. All those guys have crazy biceps. They're all on keto diets. They're like training. They have those like kind of sunken in cheeks. They can do things. They're so... And she, and the ladies. Oh, yes, of course. Of course there's female SWAT members, but I'm just taking just a moment or two... Leave

it in....to talk about those, the men of SWAT. What if those whole time I was talking about the TV show? I didn't know that's a TV show. Maybe it's not. Oh no, it's a movie with Colin Farrell. Okay, great. Thanks for all that you do in the fabulous show in Phoenix. That was a good show. Yeah, yeah, they always are. Stay sexy and cheer your filet of fish carefully, Kristen. P.S. I recently learned that my dad, who enjoyed wandering through graveyards, forced my mom to accompany him to a cemetery at night in the dead of winter when she was nine months pregnant. Oh no. Just days before she gave birth to me. Dad. Guess the murderer, Rina Jean, doesn't fall too far from the tree. This is called Eyeballs Middle School. Oh. Right.

Okay. Hi, new Stevens mustache. Does Jay have a mustache? He does. He does. Jay. But I don't think of him as a mustache person. I don't either. Yeah. I think of him like a, like a five o'clock shadow, like, you know, like a detective. Yeah. I don't know why. Like a detective. What if he's an undercover cop trying to bust us for something? That'd be amazing. Jay, we trusted you. Jay, arrest me for eating too many Canadian Kit Kats. You know what? Take me to jail. We think they've got a Kit Kat ring. What if we have a drug ring and we're just smuggling it through? We're smuggling Kit Kats into the country. Look. Listen. Jay, you have to tell us if you're a cop. I've been binging some old episodes and on episode 55, you discussed how hard it must be to pull out somebody's

eyeballs. Oh, we did. Oh, absolutely. That can't even have been the first or last. Well, when I was in middle school, I went to a summer camp for middle school girls called Rosie's Girls where we were taught, quote, things that dads usually teach their sons like basic carpentry, welding, plumbing. Oh my, that sounds amazing. That's such a great idea. I love it. One day they brought in a Krav Maga instructor to teach us self-defense. Yes. And they taught us several ways to get out of a scary situation when you're picked up by a man. My favorite was just go completely limp and they'll freak out and drop you. How amazing is that? That is good. What if you did that? Just Yeah. Sack of potato. You become dead weight. Yeah. And then when they fumble you, you kick

them right in the old cahones. That's right. I love it. But in the event that he picks you up so that you're facing him and you have your arms free, they recommend that you grab their face with your thumbs at the outer corner of their eyes. This is the part that this is why I didn't want to be last. Okay. Push in and scoop up. Apparently they just pop out. No. That's what I swear. We weren't given the option to see a demonstration of this one. Good. As always, love the podcast. Thank you so much for all the work you put in to make those beautiful things. So many of us can bond over and share best Claire Claire. Well, first of all, now I want to take a Krav Maga class really bad. We need to have an exactly right Krav Maga class

exactly right. Everyone has to come in the office. That would be we're the most irritating bosses in the world. That's right. Guys, you got to take your Krav Maga. You have to hire like so hard. And then you also have to come to my acoustic music night. Okay. Okay. Um, Jay, shave your mustache too. That's Steven's bit. Get your own thing. Okay. The subject line is why we never went to Kmart. Okay. Hey, y'all. I grew up in a smallish north Louisiana town. My mother was very cautious with many things. I'm the oldest, including instilling a slightly unhealthy fear of escalators. My dad had done some litigation centering on someone getting injured from being becoming stuck in an escalator and an entirely healthy fear of parking lots. My family went to

church with a family who raised Jack Russell Terriers. We got two of the best dogs from them when I was in elementary school. Later in life, I learned that their daughter who had stayed in the area to attend college had been taken from the Kmart parking lot in broad daylight. She was driven away from the area by a man and woman to a country road in another parish where the couple proceeded to sexually assault her, slit her throat several times and abandoned her not far from the road. Fortunately in Louisiana, people loved to hunt and it was deer season. Two hunters found her near death on the side of the road and rushed her to the nearest hospital. The man who assaulted her is currently serving life plus 50. The woman is serving a 45 year sentence. The

couple are also suspects in the murder of a Jane Doe found not far from my hometown several months earlier and the badass survivor now has a beautiful family and still lives in my hometown. Oh my god. Oh my god. Can you imagine if I had to follow this up with the eyeball story? See how right you are? This is like, it's almost like we've done this before. This, it's like we knew even though I was, I'm out of order. That was, oh my god. She lived, she fucking lived through that and she has a family of her own now. I know that everyone tells you how grateful they are for your, for you two wonderful women. Nonetheless, I want you to know how grateful I am for your openness, your hilarity and your encouragement of so many you don't even

know. Thank you for all you do. Stay sexy and listen to your mom about being aware of your surroundings. Hannah. Hannah. That's such a great one. So good. That's crazy. It's so crazy. And again, that's that thing of just because it's a man and a woman doesn't mean you're safe. Don't trust people because they try to look like normal and presentable. Yeah. Yeah. Don't get in that car. That's a good point. Wow. Amazing. Love a survivor story. Dude. The best. So good. Thanks for writing those in you guys. We really appreciate it and we appreciate you guys and fucking, this is awesome. Yeah. Thanks. Say, no. Go. Go. Send your, my favorite word rich email. And stay sexy. Don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, you want cookie?