My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 152

Episode Date: December 9, 2019

This week’s hometowns include more babysitting misadventures and murder. 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. That's Karen Kulker. That's Georgia Heardstark. And I was just burping. We're gonna read you your shit through burps. That's right. You want to go first? Sure. Do you want me to? Yeah. Okay. This, the subject line is Irish hometown, our friend, our friendly local hang woman. Oh dear. Dear Karen, Georgia and team, I've been meaning to send you this Irish hometown story for a while, but since Karen showed such

sympathy for the plight of Darkie Kelley's poor hangman in your recent brilliant Dublin. They wrote it. Thank you. Definitely was brilliant. Thanks so much for writing Dublin. Live show, I thought you'd both enjoy it now. Betty Sirgrew lived in my mom's hometown, in my mom's hometown of Ross Common. Ross, like Ross from Friends, common like ubiquitous. You know what? Don't be condescending. I did it right. Okay. In the second half of the 18th century, she had been widowed young, lost one child as a baby, and she'd arrived in Ross Common with her surviving son, Paul Rick. But after years of enduring her cruelty, he ran away from home in 1775 at 16. Some versions of the story say he joined the British army. Others say he went to America

to find his fortune. At first he sent letters and money, but over the years, those letters slowly stopped coming and she was living in poverty relying on the kindness of her neighbors for food and occasional lodgers for a few coins. One winter night in 1789, a man came knocking at her door, saying the local inn was full and asking if he could rent a room from her. As he paid her, he gave her extra money to go out and get food for both of them. She noticed his coin purse was full of gold. I guess greed or desperation got the better of her because as he slept, she took the knife and stabbed the man repeatedly, killing him. But all caps as she rummaged through his coat, looking for the bag of gold, she found a bundle of his documents in his pocket and recognized

the handwriting immediately. It was, you guessed it, her son. No. Betty ran out into the street crying and screaming that she had just murdered her son and she was promptly arrested and taken to Ross Common Gale, which is the word for jail, where she was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death. But when the day arrived, she and 25 other criminals were led out to be hanged in front of the in angry crowd. News arrived that the hangman had fallen ill and couldn't perform the executions. The sheriff was worried that the crowd would riot if no executions took place. Those angry fucking crowds. I mean, so when Betty volunteered to execute the others herself in exchange for her life, he agreed. No, that's not how it works.

Betty hanged 25 men that day. Jesus Christ. Oh, Betty. And when the hangman died a few days later, she was given her own private rooms within the jail and became the only female executioner in Ireland's history. Betty. She served as the jail's hangwoman until 1802 when her sentence was commuted by the sheriff of Dublin and she was allowed to retire. But she stayed living in her rooms inside the jail and it's said her walls were covered in charcoal drawings of all the people she'd executed over the years. She died in 1807 and was buried in the grounds of the jail in an unmarked grave. So that's the story of Lady Betty, our local hangwoman. Roscommon Gayle is still standing, now home to a shopping center and a cafe. There's before and after pictures that they sent.

And when I'm back home visiting my mom, I often pass and think of Betty. Stay sexy. And I guess if you can't beat the hangman, become the hangman, Jack. Wow. Isn't that incredible? That was a crazy story. That's one way to get out of it, I guess. Like, you know, sounds like Betty was a bit of a sociopath. This one's called SSDGM, but also don't get blown up. Great. Hi, Karen and Georgia. Like any practical murderer now, I don't answer my door if I'm not expecting anyone. I'm not about to just let a murderer into my house. But that went a bit wrong for me today. This afternoon, someone was frantically knocking at my door and I assumed it was a murderer and I did not answer it. About half an hour later, I got a text from my friend asking if

I'd been evacuated. I had no idea what he was talking about. He told me there had been a bad car accident down the road from me and they'd hit a gas line and police were evacuating the surrounding area. I'm pretty sure those were actually police officers knocking at my door trying to save my life and not a murderer trying to kill me. Right. Whoops. By the time I got outside to see what was going on, they had moved the police barricade up a few houses. So I guess I'm in the clear now. I'll let you know if anything explodes though. I joked with a friend that it would be really funny if I got blown up because I was trying not to get murdered. She did not think this was funny. Yeah, it's not that funny. Stay sexy and don't get murdered, but also don't get blown up.

Catherine. Hey, Catherine, I would invest in what they call a peephole so that you don't have to assume every single person knocking on your door is going to kill you. I'm so bummed. I like old timey door. My new house has one of those little door like tiny doors so people will know if I'm looking through to that. Oh, that's right. Slam a tiny door in their face. You know, but you just have to get really, you have to get really self-confident about your decisions and it's just like you open that door, you look on the eye or like, no, thank you. Yeah. Sorry, bye. I gave this girl like money because of the oceans because I thought it was my like food getting delivered and I answered the door and it was just like this really sweet punk girl and she was like doing door

door shit for like OSHA or some shit. OSHA is a different thing. That's the stage union. Or that's job safety on site job safety. Job safety for dolphins. Are you talking about something called like Greenpeace? Yeah, something like that. Gave her money because I was like, shit, please help those. Oh, I just unfortunately now everything on Twitter is now, oh, here's a, here's video of the Pacific garbage patch. Right. Here's video of a seal with like a six pack thing around its neck. Okay. Yeah, let's not talk about depressing stuff. Another 11-year-old in peril story. Okay, great. We love these. Hello, hello. After hearing the 11-year-old babysitter story from this weekend's mini-sode, I knew I had to write in about the scariest moment

in my babysitting career. I think I was older than 11 at the time. Sorry, but not by much. I used to babysit my three cousins throughout the summers. We usually just hung out, watched movies, order a pizza, usual babysitter activities. One night there was a thunderstorm and we were hanging out in the main TV room watching a movie. Suddenly someone started banging on the porch door. I looked up and it was a man hunched over in a hood, banging on the door in the rain. Well, my murdering brain kicked into overdrive and I yelled, get down to the kids. Sorry, get down. Pull a gun from their holster, their back holster. Wait, when did she get that? She yells, get down to the kids. I had us all hiding under the coffee table while I called my

uncle freaking out. Can you imagine what that coffee table looks like? So 80s. It's just like this huge, it's like probably the perfect shield. Yes, it would, nothing would go through that thing. It's just such impacted particle board. So she calls the uncle and he told me he was going to send the neighbor down to find out what was going on. By this point, the hooded figure had moved on to the side door, which was the main entrance for the house. And that's when I realized I hadn't locked it. I start freaking out even more and all the kids are now crying and freaking out. And in that moment, the phone rang. It was my dad calling. What luck, I thought. He'll know how to help before I could even begin to explain to him what was happening. He said, can you come to the

door? It's pouring out here. I brought you all ice cream. My amazing thoughtful father had brought me and my cousins ice cream and I thought he was a murderer. He was, of course, completely drenched. And I thanked him and apologized profusely before I gave him the earful about banging on a door in a hood in the dark at a house where a young girl was babysitting. Love you all. Stay sexy and only open the door for ice cream. Christine from Wakefield, Rhode Island. I love it. I love two door knocking stories in a row. Oh, that's weird. We're connected. We spent the last 10 days together. More than that, like 15. Was it? Oh, my God. It was been a lot of... Don't say it like that. I just mean it like that. It was the time of your life. Okay.

Looking for a better cooking routine? With meal planning, shopping, and prepping handled, HelloFresh has you covered. HelloFresh makes home cooking easy and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. HelloFresh 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 HelloFresh's expanded menu of quick lunch solutions, weekend brunch, simple side dishes, and amazing desserts. Karen, January is going to be my month for HelloFresh. I am so sick of takeout. I miss cooking so much. I haven't lifted a knife or a pan since early fall.

I can't wait to get back in the kitchen and HelloFresh makes it so easy and also makes it so that my food tastes good, 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, we'll 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. Okay, I'm not going to tell you the title of this one. Okay. Ahoy ahoy murderine. No way. Ahoy ahoy murder friends. I just went home for Thanksgiving and over dinner, my dad casually mentioned a woman he knew who had killed her husband. I do not recall how this came up.

So of course, I had to do the thing. Hold on, what? I need to know everything. So here's what happened. In the spring of 2012, Jackie Reed of Osborne, Idaho, about 20 miles from where I grew up, shot and killed her husband, Greg, in the back bedroom of their trailer home. Reportedly, he was an abusive asshole. Okay, fine. But she didn't report this to the police. Oh, no. She kept on collecting his social security checks and told anyone who had asked about him that he had moved to Seattle. Oh, how do you do when you live in Idaho? Pick up the room. And everyone's like, yeah, absolutely. Got it. Then, okay, then here. Okay, this is how she writes this. Then here is where it gets crazy. Oh, okay. In July of 2013, there was a special agent from the Social Security

Administration who knew that was a thing who was looking into this guy's disappearance because, you know, someone was cashing his checks and he wasn't in Osborne or Seattle. Oh, wait, I get it. Sorry. And he wasn't in Osborne or Seattle. He interviewed Jackie Reed who couldn't keep her story straight. So they got a warrant to search her home. And wouldn't you know it? In the back bedroom, there's the rotting corpse that Greg Reed, who had just been hanging out in there for 15 fucking months. No. Jackie had just been dousing him with quick lime to keep the smell down. Good God. According to an article I found, Greg had weighed 300 pounds. So by the time his body was discovered, it only weighed 53 pounds. No, Jesus. Jackie had also been slowly digging a

hole behind the house, presumably to bury him. Pick up the pace, Jackie. Why did it take her 15 months to dig the hole? Lazy procrastinator. Well, the ground is notoriously rocky here. And I guess you can't use a backcoat to dig a grave for your husband's secret corpse. Fair enough. Yeah, that's true. In 2015, Jackie was sentenced to 15 years for voluntary manslaughter, pleaded down from first degree murder, of course, which she must serve at least seven years before she's eligible for parole. Best Thanksgiving ever. Assisted GM, motherfuckers. Mel. Yes, that's a girl's name. That really built to a great crescendo at the end. Wow. Okay, so wrap it up. Here's my wrap it up. This is a subject line. I'm not going to say the whole thing, but it's my earliest memory.

Recently at a family get-together, my cousins and I were talking about the earliest memories we had. Most were family vacations or holidays, but mine is a little less fun, a little more murderineowy. I'm the oldest of my siblings, and when I was around three or four, my mom worked as a freelance copy editor and often stayed up late with giant manuscripts to get some extra hours in after her exhausting days raising then three kids under four. Oh my God. And it says eventually having four kids in five years. Lady. Do the math. We can't. How are you doing it? I think after that, she'd just be like, bring it on. I'll handle any situation. I'll cater any bat mitzvah. Okay, I don't remember this part, but I guess I had been sick and was running a fever earlier in the day.

The part I remember was walking down the hallway from my bedroom to our family living room. Usually it's one or the other, but she's combining both or they're combining both. In my Barbie nightgown, which was drenched in sweat, I walked into the living room and stared at my mom who hadn't noticed me yet and yelled, I'm gonna die. I don't remember anything past that, but apparently I dropped to the floor and had a seizure. Kids are great. Oh my God. It turns out that this was the start of my seizure disorder and my crazy high fever had caused the sweat and the seizure and the deathy feeling probably came from the aura of the seizure, which I still get before an episode or the fever or both. Either way, I'm sure I scared my mom half to death. Just

think of it. No. A four year old that's straight out of the ring. Totally. A wet nightgown screaming I'm gonna die and then dropping to the floor. Oh my God. Jesus. That's terrifying. In one of those manuscripts, there's just a red line that goes straight across. Either way, I'm sure I scared my mom half to death and now that I have my own kids, I can't imagine how terrifying this would be. Stay sexy and take your Kepra, Madeline. Oh my God. I tried Kepra. It didn't work for me. Wow. I had one seizure when I was a kid due after a fever. Yeah, that's very common. Really? Yeah. Because also then your brain grows and kind of works out all the electrical issues. Oh, my brain is huge now. It's so big. It's distracting. Okay, this one starts. Hi.

When I was in law school, I was a student attorney working for the Innocence Project in Baltimore City. Thank you. Good job. My job was to visit prisons around Maryland and collect information and transcripts from inmates that could potentially be acquitted under a court of appealing's rule. I should mention that all the inmates I dealt with were convicted of first degree murder prior to 1980, so most of them were just quiet old gentlemen and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. Can you fucking imagine how many were innocent? I mean, I don't want to sit in the corner and listen to all those conversations. Yeah. My visits often involved meeting with dozens of inmates at each facility. I spent an entire year visiting all

of the prisons around Maryland and met with at least 100 convicted men and women. During my graduation party, I found out that my twin sister was telling all of our family and friends that I was going to the prisons for quote, conjugal visits, sometimes 30 a day. When I asked her, she knew what that meant. She admitted that she didn't. In the look of shock and horror, when across her face, when I explained, she still wouldn't admit to me how many people were told about my supposed extracurricular activities in prisons, but it still makes me cringe to laugh eight years later when I think about it. No, no, that's incorrect. I thought it was just a sister being mean to a sister. She thought conjugal visits is sometimes up to 30

a day. People are just like, uh-huh. Oh, great. It probably didn't help that when I spoke about the inmates, I often cited how they were some of the most lovely humans I had ever met. And honestly, most of them were better jailhouse lawyers than I will ever be. I have a cushy job practicing real estate law now, but I will never forget the time I spent my hundreds of conjugal visits around the Maryland prison system, which ultimately helped to quit at least 14 innocent men. Amazing. Amazing. Shout out to my twin sister named Kara, but what we most exclusively address each other as Stephen and our sweet mother, BJ, who also got hooked on your podcast and may still believe I had conjugal visits when I was a student. Can't be sure. Thanks for all you do and remember

to stay sexy and avoid conjugal visits with murder convicts. Genevieve. Oh my God. That is so fun. It's kind of like the grandmas who were told that LOL met lots of love. So they'll be like, on Facebook, there'd be death announcements and they'd be like thinking of you, LOL. Oh my God. Have you heard of that? It's very similar and horrible. That's hilarious. Well, hey, if you have extra money in this day and age, which very few people do, but if you do give money to the Innocence Project, they do unbelievable work. That's right. Very important. And thank you guys for listening. Send us all your weird stories at my favorite murder at Gmail or at our website. Yeah, that was fun. That was so fun. That was a great kickback off to being home from the UK.

Yes, totally. Stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis. Do you want a cookie?