My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 170

Episode Date: April 13, 2020

This week’s hometowns include a family fairytale and an encounter in the forest.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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And welcome. To my favorite murder. It's the mini-soad. It's the mini-soad. It's the pan-demic inside, no one's near each other, yet we're still doing it mini-soad. And somehow we have makeup on, which is... Well, because we're videoing it. I know.

Now there's all kinds of things we have to do and meet, requirements we have to meet. What a bummer. You can actually see the video of last week's mini-soad on our website at my favorite murder. Select moments, not the entire thing. Absolutely. All right. Should we go? Sure.

Yeah, let's do it. This is called, I'm self-isolating in a murder house. Hey pals, hope you're staying inside and healthy anyway, let's get to it. So after spending nearly a decade living in the city of Philadelphia, I left to go to grad school and live on the beach in New Jersey. Aside from being in New Jersey, I thought I was living my best life. My two roommates and I live in a huge house a mile from the shore that the owners are renting for next to nothing because it's the off season.

One day a few months back, I found out another reason they were renting the house so cheap. I was outside cleaning my car when the little old lady that lives two houses down saw me outside and ran over to me. Before saying anything else, she asked me in the most New Jersey accent you've ever heard, I'm surprised you girls decided to stay here for the winter. Do you know what happened in this house, right? A woman murdered her ex-husband right here. Oh shit.

I obviously had not heard the story before and she did not skip a beat before telling me everything. In 2010, a woman named Kathleen Dorsett lived in my house with her one-year-old daughter and her parents lived across the street. Dorsett was in a custody battle for her kid with her ex-husband Stephen Moore. One day in August 2010, Moore came by to drop off their baby and Kathleen asked him to go to the backyard and grab some tools he had left at the house when he had lived there. When he went out back, it turns out Kathleen's dad was waiting back there for him.

Oh, whoa. Yeah. The father then beat Moore with a crowbar and strangled him to death with a rope. Jesus. Dad and daughter Dorsett then dragged Moore's body to his own car and put him in the trunk, drove it, a town over and set it on fire. It didn't take long for the cops to figure out who had committed the murder. There was literal video footage of them throwing away evidence in a store's dumpster.

They admitted to everything in court and the whole family was sentenced to prison for the crime with no chance of parole until they've served a minimum of 50 years. The whole family, like they called the aunt and the grandma. You know what? You're all trouble. Your cousin Maureen is going down for this. When my neighbor finished telling me the story, she then took me by the arm and led me to my own backyard and pointed out where there used to be a blood stain in the driveway.

Thanks for the nightmares, lady. We get mail for Kathleen about once a week, even though it's been a decade since she lived there. I guess it's kind of hard to change her mailing address from prison. Well, that's it. I haven't noticed anything spooky in the house, but now that I'm quarantined inside my murder home, here's to hoping the ghost of poor Stephen Moore doesn't pick now to come haunt it. Thanks for keeping me sane during this literal nightmare we are living in, Lindsay.

I mean, great story, Lindsay. I feel like I've never heard of that in all the cases that we've told each other. I don't know if I've ever heard a dad killing a husband for a daughter. I mean, is it Casey Anthony? She did all that, though. They just lied for her. Okay. That was her doing.

And they didn't do it on purpose. Yeah. A dad doing that. That's true. Doing the actual crime, like, killings, oh, I don't know. Fuck. How does that conversation start with your dad? I mean, it starts like this.

You know what? You were right. Doesn't it? That was a mistake. Yeah. Jesus. Horrifying. Yeah.

Wow. And then living there. I tell you, if an old lady is running toward you, hold your ground and find out what she wants. It's always good. It's always going to be good. But I wouldn't give for an old lady to stay six feet away from me but run. Except for the old lady that came at me when I was walking my dog in my old neighborhood

because I'd just thrown a bag of poop into a garbage can that was waiting on the street to be emptied on garbage day. And she came over shaking a finger and I was like, lady, I'm about to light you on fire. It's garbage. It's garbage. And she was talking to me like I was this inner loper and she was living in like Bel-Air. And I was like, now I live four houses down. I'll end you.

So I have my own personal, there's a cave ox that I get to add to the rule I just made up. That's how life works. That's how we do it. Okay. Let's see. Okay. So my first one, the subject line is Code Silver.

Okay. Hi. So when I was in medical school in Buffalo, New York, I did my trauma surgery rotation in July at the county hospital. For those not in healthcare, county hospitals tend to be more rough around the edges, underfunded and treat many patients without insurance as opposed to private hospitals. I know that because that's where I went when I had my seizures in 97 and it was horrifying. There were six of us in one hospital room.

Really? Crazy. I did share of gunshots slash gang violence, so it was a pretty crazy month. I'll never forget the time they cracked a gunshot victim's ribcage open in the emergency room with a tool similar to garden shears to try to access his heart directly and quickly. But he didn't make it. There was one trauma surgeon in particular who sparked respect, interest and intrigue. We'll call him Dr. J. He had grown up in a rough neighborhood in Buffalo and had quote

gotten out, gone into the army special forces, then came back to go to medical school and practice trauma surgery. Wow. He was very tall and muscular, soft spoken, always calm and kind, unlike some of the surgeons who wouldn't hesitate to let a trainee know how stupid they thought they were. He was also a very skilled surgeon and constantly had a gaggle of residents and students following him trying to learn from him and soak up some of his awesomeness. One day at the hospital there was a code silver, which is the overhead code for an active shooter.

Everyone was instructed to seek refuge in locked rooms. One of the surgical residents ran into Dr. J and advised him to get into a room and hide. Dr. J thanked the resident, but kept walking. Later that day, we found out that Dr. J was the active shooter. Oh my God. Yeah. Right? I thought maybe he was going to be like the hero who saved the day.

Same. Same. What? He shot and killed a woman who worked in administration at the hospital with whom he had had a romantic relationship. He went on later that day to kill himself. The story is tragic for all involved, but particularly so because in retrospect, Dr. J was clearly showing signs of mental illness leading up to this incident.

He had recently lost a great deal of weight. He had been short tempered and had led his normally tidy house and yard to go into disarray. He'd also been performing routine operations throughout the night. Like a gallbladder removal at 2 a.m. Police. Hmm. Yeah. You'd think that would, somebody would be like, yeah, you don't need to do that.

You don't need to work all through the night, sir. 9 a.m. is fine for this gallbladder surgery. Yeah. Hey, surgeon, what happened to golfing? Why aren't you? I'm having a sleeping. Yeah, really. Police later found food and supplies stored in the ceiling above his office.

In the profession of medicine and surgery in particular, we are rewarded for being, quote, tough, not making a fuss and not being emotional. He continued to do his job well despite these signs that something was wrong, so no one spoke up. I'm sure his colleagues regret this deeply. This story is a reminder to speak up, to be a busy body and to get into other people's business. Yeah.

But seriously, if you think something is up with a colleague or neighbor, just check in. Just say something. It's better to be annoying than to ignore your gut and regret it forever. Thanks for all that you do. I love listening to your podcast on the way to work as a little distraction from all the intensity of the world right now. Shout out to all the healthcare professionals, teachers, grocery store employees, sanitation workers, and others keeping this crazy world running in a pandemic.

Hell yeah. And it's not signed. Amazing. Wow. What a banana story. I just think about the person who ran in to warn him. Yes. And when I was reading this, I did the exact same thing you did where I was like, Dr. J

is going to go take care of business in some fascinating special forces way. And the fact that that person warned him and that he didn't do anything, I mean, God, just unnerving. Yes. Exactly. Amazing. Yeah. What a story.

Yeah. Okay. Okay. Hi all. I'm going to skip the pleasantries, though I love you both and get straight to it. Thank you. Thank you. This story is about my aunt Debbie, who I credit with my murdering instincts.

She showed me Gory Slasher movies when I was way too young. She would dress up as various serial killers during her annual Halloween parties, her favorite holiday. And she told me scary stories almost every night when I lived with her as a young child. Actually she's been a badass murderino from day one and she has many, many insane stories, but I think this one is her best. Nice. Fucking ants.

Love her. We're the best. Ant who? Sorry? Ant Debbie. Anty Debbie. Anty Debbie. Okay.

Yeah. This story takes place in 1980 when Debbie was about 14 years old. She and her family were up at their parents' cabin on Vancouver Island. Because this was 1980, she was allowed to roam free around the small town all day long without checking in with anyone. Duh. Says. My crazy aunt felt like rebelling.

So she decided to steal a cigarette from her mom's purse and smoke it outside. I love 14-year-olds that are like, I need a cigarette. That was me. Yeah. For real. It's like, I better go smoke this Benson and Hedges Lights 100, the most unpleasant mom cigarette you could possibly steal. This is disgusting.

So gross. I love it. Um, she then goes for a walk through the forest near her cabin in order to smoke without anyone noticing. On this walk, Debbie realizes that she doesn't have a lighter, just then a man in a large coat comes out of the forest and on to her path. No. Now obviously, 14-year-old Debbie's murdering instincts hadn't kicked in yet because she

isn't creeped out at all and she asks him if he has a lighter. Hey, I'm 14. Do you have a lighter? Oh, excuse me. I'm glad I ran into you. Are you a bear? No. Okay.

Great. Then do you have a lighter? Mr. with a coat on? Are there bears under that coat? Standing on each other's shoulders? No. A raincoat in the forest? Okay, anyway.

Is there a lighter in there? The man walks closer to her and says that he doesn't. He then asks if she is out in the forest alone. Luckily, these questions scared Debbie and she lies through her cheese thing. My parents will be here any minute. I should probably go meet them now. The man just smiles and says, they're not coming, are they? He then grabs her arm, takes off his coat and flashes her.

My aunt then screams, ew, no one wants to see that, jerks away, picks up some pebbles from the forest floor and starts chucking them at him. Yes, that's right. That's right. Now, I don't know if it was her loud screams or the pebbles pelting his scrotum, but he ran away. Now, it being 1980 and all, after he leaves, Debbie walks home and nonchalantly jokes about being flashed with her family.

No police reporter, Syke Ival involved, cut to summer of 1981 with Debbie watching the news at the end of August with her family. Then the man's photo comes up on the screen. On the screen. That's him. She says, that's the guy who flashed me. It turns out she had asked Clifford Olsen, the beast of British Columbia, for a lighter. She had thrown pebbles at Cliff Clifford Olsen's dick.

If you don't know Clifford Olsen, he raped and killed 11 children's and teens from 1980 to 1981. Oh, right. When she ran into him. Oh my God. He was an absolute ass hat in prison, using his rights to file a tons of bizarre legal claims, example, claiming that being denied a solid pleasure, life size, revolutionary sex doll was cruel and unusual punishment.

On a positive note, his case resulted in the rise of the victims of violence movement and a lot of amendments to our criminal justice system. Thank you for all you do, especially right now when the world feels like a dumpster fire. Stay sexy and don't steal your mother's cigarettes without her lighter. This is Sarah from Victoria, British Columbia. Oh, Sarah, that was as Miley Cyrus would say, a banger. That was everything because it was running into a creep in the forest of flash, fear and danger.

And then the payoff of, oh no, it was a child killer. And getting away from him any way she could. And then it turning out that like her life was totally in danger at that moment. Yeah. I mean, obviously. Yeah. It's crazy. And throwing rocks in him.

I bet that felt good. I bet. Once you get away. Ew, no one wants to see that. Oh my God. It was a different time. It was the kind of thing where, yeah, in the 80s, like I was 10 in 1980, if you were walking around by yourself, you kind of knew to keep a like a more than arms length distance from

people because it was a possibility. Yeah. Oh. Man. Yeah. All right. Swiss, the Swiss cheese pervert doesn't live on an island. You know?

No. We learned that. That was not a one-off. That's right. So this subject line of this one is my great, great aunt and the missing suitcase of money. Hello. I've been debating, sending the story for a while, but since we're all bound to home, I thought you might enjoy this family fairy tale.

Okay. This is a story about my great, great aunt. She was a beautiful, tall, blue-eyed, black-haired bad bitch. And is the reason I tighten up when anyone mentions nature versus nurture. She grew up poor on a ranch in the West, and at the time, it doesn't get much tougher than that. I picture her coolly leaned back in a saddle, moving through the untouched landscape, or bellied up to a bar, laughing with whiskey dripping down her chin.

Hold on. Is this my life story? I know. Blue eyes and black hair. Yeah. It's you. Not that tall. Okay.

It is rumored anyone who came in contact with her fell in love with her. That's you. Sounds right. When she was a teenager, she met a wealthy man who owned a ranch nearby, and they were married a few weeks later. Whoa. Yeah. Right?

And she's a teenager. Oh, God. Sounds like it was a long time ago. Family lore tells it went well for a year or two, but the way my grandma puts it, quote, she wasn't one to be tamed, and it didn't take long for her to begin showing up to the family home with bruises one week and a busted lip the next. It is easy to get hurt on a ranch, so at first they believed her stories of different accidents. One night her horse showed up on the ranch, but she wasn't with it.

The family scoured the property, and after two days they found her completely beaten, nearly dead, only a mile from the family home. She had tried to ride there, but after a while it seemed she had passed out from the pain and had fallen off her horse. She was healing from her, quote, riding accident when she began spending more and more time riding out with the ranch hands to gather cattle and fix the fences. She spent a lot of time with one man in particular. It seems the two of them fell in love.

And once in love, they hatched a plan to kill her husband and steal his money. And that's just what they did. Her husband's body was discovered a few days later. He had been stabbed to death, and his safe had been emptied. The two of them were seen riding out of town on horseback with a suitcase and nothing else. We could only guess it was full of the money that had been in the safe. They went on the run for a while, and then my family heard that the ranch hands body was found.

He had been stabbed to death, and his safe had been emptied. No. She was never heard from again. Bonus attic content. A few years ago, we were cleaning out the family barn and came across an old suitcase in the attic. My sister and I freaked out thinking we had found her suitcase full of millions, but were disappointed to find it was actually our grandma's spoon collection.

That's so cute. Treasure. SSDGMC. Spoon collection. It was just grandma's spoon collection. Is there anything more sweet-hearted than a spoon collection? One of them is from BAMPS. One of them is from Disneyland.

The one time they went to London, maybe. Maybe. Or someone they know went to London and bought it back because they're like, oh, she loves spoons. Bring Kathy a spoon. She will love it. Oh, she'll love it. She loves spoons.

Meanwhile, Kathy's like, I never wanted to collect spoons. I got one spoon and they think I like spoons. And now it's an avalanche of spoons. Isn't that an amazing story? I wonder what happened to her. I wonder what else she did. She became your mother, I think. That's when my mom stopped killing, because when she met my dad, it was just true love.

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So get up to 20 free meals with purchase plus free shipping on your first box at Hello Fresh.ca slash murder 20 with code murder 20. That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to HelloFresh.ca slash murder 20 and use code murder 20. 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. Okay, this one I got, I found some, I wasn't sent to me. I just found it and feel like I had, it made me laugh so hard and I'm going to read it

as I feel like it's supposed to be read and you'll get it. This is called small town shooting thingy and just starts. So a couple months ago to a year, there was a couple gunshots shot off. I was just chilling in bed listening to your podcast. It was about 11pm, I believe. I'm not sure. I lose track of time at night and I heard some gunshots go off. There was one period in the entire first part.

However, I did not suspect it was a gunshot because I live in a small town called Colonial Beach and it was really loud so I figured it was close. I would later figure out it was two houses down. Also, I'm just 13 year old girl and I had never heard gunshots before so I didn't know what it was but I suspected it was gunshots. You knew. Yeah. Since I was not confident it was gunshots, I was not unsettled with it and kept listening

to your podcast chilling. I mean, imagine a 13 year old girl listening to our podcast. Hi. A week later, my mom asked me a question. The question she asked me was if I heard anything on that night which I was scared so I lied and said no but I lied because I didn't know if she was trying to be sly and see if I was awake because she had done that in the past. Okay, back to the story and not with my life.

But she said that there was a shooting at the house and there was a car with bullet holes in it and no, it is not rust that looks like bullet holes. Also, there was a bullet hole in the wall which is still there to this day but now there's a different homeowner and I never saw it go up for sale, a little fishy I think. But me and my friend, mainly me, wanted to see who the new homeowners were so we went to their house when we were trick-or-treating this past year and they seemed a little weird and a little too nice but that could be me with my Murderina instincts. That's right.

And you're 13. Oh, in a couple years past, we thought that the house behind our house was a drug house and I know of other drug houses and the elementary school burned down four or five years ago and still no one knows why. Sincerely, Quinn. I think that's my favorite one yet. There were four periods. I love you, Quinn.

Quinn, great job. Very entertaining email. Very well put together. Yep. I love you too. It had it all. You got your eye out. Yeah.

We love it. Yes. Keep your eye out. Try to find out why that house burned down. Why not walk around with a little notepad now is the question. Elementary school that burned down. Oh, sorry. I thought it was a house.

Well then now we know why. Quinn, we're going to need monthly updates about your town and who's doing what and what's going on. Yes. Please. 13 year olds. We need a 13 year old update. So if you're another different 13 year old that's listening, sorry, but also we want

to hear from you too. Yeah. Don't think that we don't want to hear from you just because you're in junior high. I mean, God, we're not like, we're not ageists. We're not like total jerks. Okay. That's why I'm glad you're going last because I didn't want that one to. This starts high all.

Let's get to it. When I was a teenager, I worked at Blockbuster in Houston, Texas. I was a token girl. They were usually only one per shift. And then they use the emoji that you use in email that end up looking like gumdrops. You know that they're not a full circle. They're like flat on the bottom. Yeah.

So it looks like a gumdrop with a face and this one's rolling its eyes. So it's like a really irritated gumdrop in the middle of the email, which I love. Got it. Sexism. God. Anyhow, we had a ton of regular customers who had come several times a week, some even daily to trade out their movie rentals. In particular, I mean, God, how long ago does that seem where you had to go to the video

store and pick like three movies? 13 year olds don't know what we're talking about. Quinn, you don't even understand what renting a movie means and what a pain in the ass it was. A blockbuster card, which I think my dad still has in his wallet. Yep. Many do. And if you didn't have it, like they wouldn't let you rent a movie.

Yeah. You can, if you didn't have it, that was going to be the worst weekend ever. You were just relegated to whatever was on TV. Quinn, back then there were like four channels. That's right. There was no cable, or at least where I lived, cable was just starting. Yeah. I mean, Quinn, you don't get it.

Quinn, just you're living in this world of streaming and immediacy. You're welcome. We love you. Okay. One particular customer though, who was the manager of the neighborhood McDonald's, would come in multiple times a day. He would spend what seemed like forever all caps, browsing the shelves and checking out movie titles.

Sometimes I would catch him staring at me over the shelves, and I wondered if he was shoplifting. Oh, bless your heart. Shoplifting at Blockbuster. That's right. And spending an hour, hours at Blockbuster isn't possible because there's like maybe a hundred movies. It's not like a cool old school video store where they have just like thousands of weird

titles. No, not at all. And they would have, it would be like, there would be 10 copies of Groundhog's Day on one shelf of like, look, you can wreck Groundhog's Day, and whoever took it, yeah, because there don't need that many copies. Right. We're both doing handkerchiefs. We are doing the taking it off a shelf.

This is what taking something on a shelf looks like. Okay. One day I was working at the register when a woman came up and quietly said, miss, I don't want to scare you, but there's a man masturbating in the drama section, in the drama section. Quinn, turn, mute this, mute this, Quinn, Quinn. So then, and then it's just a line break. And then there's a line all by itself that said, dude had been masturbating the whole time.

Oh, God. The most fucked up part is that my store manager refused to ban him from the store because he was quote, a paying customer, a masturbating paying customer. So now we circle back and start to analyze who this store manager is and where he masturbates publicly because clearly that's a thing that you don't think is that big of a deal when actually it's his huge sign. Gum drop, gum drop, gum drop. Eye roll, gum drop, eye roll, gum drop.

So but this was the guy's solution. He would just follow him around every time he came in the store and use proximity to discourage him from checking off. Great. That's the best store I hope you don't wonder why you don't exist anymore. Anyway, thank you for keeping me company on my commute to my dream job. My friend Jonathan is a fan and I became addicted to MFM when my car stereo temporarily broke a couple years ago and yours was the only podcast that would get loud enough on my phone to

cover the road noise in my hybrid. Honored. We're honored. Thank you. The shrill of vocal fry bursting through past all the others. That's right. Sorry, Mark Maron. You need a vocal fry.

How about you get that register up a little higher? Thank God because you guys have helped me so many times. Stay sexy and just get Netflix, Hailey. Unbelievable. Fucking mass public masturbators. Public masturbators that people aren't going to take any steps to get rid of or solve. Public masturbator apologizers. Yeah.

That's what that's even worse. That's hopefully an arrow. Now that the nineties are over, I feel like maybe that time is gone. You gotta hope. One will hope and dream. Great job everyone. Quinn. God, those were great.

MVP. Quinn, you tell your friends you won because you did. That's right. Mainly you. You won this one. You won this time. Send us your stories at my favorite Murder at Gmail. Any kind of story, obviously we love.

And stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Yeah, bye. Elvis, you want a cookie? Yeah.