My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 183

Episode Date: July 13, 2020

This week’s hometowns include a flash flood and an Ed Gein connection.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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To my favorite murder. The mini-soad. It's so teeny tiny. Look how cute it is. Oh my God. It's just, it's like, it goes right on the top of your pencil. I was trying to make, Georgia, I was trying to make your picture bigger on the zoom and instead it looks like I'm trying to start a chat.

I'm still like someone's old aunt. Oh, it's impossible. And now I just need to close it. Now close, press on mute. Press on mute. Now, what was that thing, the grandmaster flash thing? Love grandmaster flash. And it was on Facebook when people would tag pictures, they would put grandma, grandma,

but they wouldn't see that it actually auto-filled grandmaster flash. So many grandmas tagged themselves as grandmas or flash. The most amazing thing that's ever happened. On Facebook? Do you know the one guy who like changed his mom's auto-fill? So many times she wrote, I love you. It said like, I shit you. So love was changed to shit.

And then I kept going, love, shit, shit, shit, over and over. There's nothing better because I'm right on the precipice of being totally in the mom's camp of just like, I don't know how these machines work. I'm good. There's a lot of blind faith involved. Yeah. And at this point in our lives, I refuse to learn. Yeah.

Look, if Aime was good enough for us, kids, hey, I'll go back to Angel Fire any fucking day of the week. Tell me and I'll go. Oh, please. There. You want to go first? Yes. I do.

Okay. Okay. But I did make this way too big. And now get away, both of you. Here we go. I'm so excited about this, a hometown dump story. I got one of those, too. We got a few.

Yeah. I got a few of them. Yeah. I've never been more excited about it. So exciting. Hey, MFM fam. I live in NYC, but have been staying with my parents in Wisconsin since March, waiting to see if I have a job when my restaurant reopens.

I went with my dad to drop off some stuff at the dump when he casually said, did you hear about the man they found last summer who lived in a bunker behind here for three years? To which I replied, tell me everything. Yep. I just love the idea of someone saying, doing that to their dad. Tell me everything. Girl, open your mouth. Spill it.

In 2014, a man from Stevens Point, Wisconsin, which is very strange because my friend Bradford is from Stevens Point, Wisconsin, which isn't, it's not a big town. It's very northern Wisconsin. Wow. 2014, a man from Stevens Point, Wisconsin, named here by a button, was arrested for an intersexual assault of a child and child pornography. Realizing he faced decades in prison, he decided it was time to move. While out on bail, he biked 30 miles north to a rustic wooded area close to Marathon

County's landfill. He dug out a bunker, lining the walls with tarps and cardboard, and brought in food and supplies one back-back load at a time. In 2016, right before his court date, Button left his car, wallet, and a note saying he was moving to Florida. For the next three years, Button hid in that hole in the ground, getting all of his necessities from the landfill nearby. Ew.

Smell. Ugh. It would be, I mean- And the food, like what are you eating? What, like it's never- It's all pine cones and peanut butter. You're just like a bird, you're a bird boy scout project, what you are, friend. You can just eat birds, eat off a pine cone for all I care.

Okay, uh, he dug a well in a wet area of the woods and he had a fire pit with a tin can chimney for warmth. Button even attached an antenna to a tree and used a system of eight solar panels and numerous car batteries to power a TV, lights, and fans. Holy shit. Oh wait, yeah, this is insanity. Oh wait, we can't leave this out. He planted marijuana in the woods, harvesting up to a pound a year.

Jesus. If he was not a fucking pedophile, I would be in awe of this person, but I- Right, exactly. Eat him. He, it's like, yeah, if you only had put your energy toward good, you could have been like the greatest camping dude in the world, but instead you're just a coward. But all this came to an end when a hiker came upon the well-concealed door of the bunker and curiously went inside to find Button.

Could you map him? No. Don't open the door in the woods. Don't open a door in the fucking woods, like- If you see a door and it's been well-concealed, get the fuck away from the door. Don't open. There's a reason. That is not a murdering outright fucking there, I'll tell you what.

And there's not a cute bear in it, like a ballet tutu inside. It's a well-concealed door. It's a well-concealed pedophile. Not a fucking dancing bear. That's pretty much like one of two choices you have of what's behind a well-concealed door. It's either that or the, what's in from The Princess Bride, the machine of- Oh, of something pain.

The song. God damn it. What is it? It's like the apocalypse machine. Yeah. Oh, you bet. Yeah. It's been two years.

Anyhow, don't say who cares, Steven, we can't, there's nothing I care more about than the movie The Princess Bride. Me too. That's true. It's the greatest thing of all time. It's the greatest. Those scenes with Peter Falk and Fred Savage are so perfectly executed family film. A child being actually a very realistic child for the 80s, especially, touch bratty.

Bratty at first, broken down by the grandfather who's seen it all, seems like a goofball but actually is telling the greatest story anyone's ever heard. It's one of my favorite movies. And the turn of when he's like, it's okay, you can tell me the kissing part at the end is the best thing that's ever happened to me. You can never read it to me again tomorrow. It's the cutest. Also, I just have to say, I met Fred Savage when I worked in episodic television.

He's everything you want him to be anymore. Thank God. He's exactly the same looking and sounding. The first time I heard his voice, I got weird, like chills. Dude, wonder if you just keep your eyes on him. Grow up with you. Yeah, right. And he's super nice.

You know this guy. It's like he knows the responsibility on his shoulders of being Fred Savage and he's delivering just hand over fist and has great taste in comedy. He's like so like talented, very talented and now very, very hilarious. Of course. And like doing it been great since he was eight years old, but then also now can direct like three camera television, which is very difficult. This took a weird turn.

Okay. Guys, we're still in the middle of this. Can you please shut up so I can read the rest of the story, guys, stop it. It's just the door and the door in the forest is just we need a minute. I had to talk. I had to talk my way out of the panic of that. Okay. So the book, this hiker went inside curiously and found button sleeping on a cot.

So the hiker called 911 and after a standoff with police button finally came out and stated I'm a wanted man and remarked that it was quote nice to talk to human beings. Last October button received 30 years in prison for his crimes, but the judge gave him a bonus to 230 days already served for his life on the lamb. Thank you ladies for keeping me saying through this pandemic, my mom is now a big fan. Hey, despite all the swearing, sorry mom, sorry in front of you says, oh, well, she says the same thing to me. I look forward to the day that I can bring her to a live show.

Oh, so do we stay sexy and for the love of God's day out of the forest, Marie. Absolutely. Okay. This. Okay. All three of mine this week are grandparents stories. Oh, okay. We always love.

Always. Dear Karen, Georgia and Co, this isn't a murder story, but does fall under some of your categories of interest, namely bad ass grandparents, survival stories and flash floods. In the summer. Yeah. All our favorites. Flash floods are our interest. They are now.

They are now. No, it's true. It's just, you know, my one more thing to put on the dating profile. In the summer of 1976, my grandparents, who by the way, Karen, she gave us their names and they live up to the hype. Irvin and Nancy Irvin. Cool. Yes.

Not enough. Irvins anymore. Wait. Is this story about Magic Johnson? All right. We had driven up to Estes Park, a small mountain town in Colorado to go to their regular square dancing group. Of course.

My pressure. I know the way my grandpa used to tell it on the way home, a huge thunderstorm developed over the mountains and the night was quote, blacker than the inside of a cow. Irvin, you old bullshitter you. It was the kind of Western state summer thunderstorms that are so intense that windshield wipers can't move fast enough to see clearly out of the windshield. Mm-hmm. Eventually they had to pull over.

They stayed in the car until a man started banging on their window and yelling at them to get out of their car and head for higher ground. Oh, shit. My grandparents ended up having to climb the steep canyon walls in their square dancing outfits in the pitch dark and pouring rain. I can fucking picture it now. Shit. Yeah.

Swing your partner up the hill. Endosida. Endosida. And as they climbed a huge wall of water came down the canyon and swept away cars, houses, and parts of the road. Eventually they had found a group of other people who had climbed up the canyon and took shelter in a van. They spent the night that way stranded and waiting for the morning to be rescued.

Down on the plains, my 19 year old mom and her older brother had no idea what happened except that their parents were supposed to be driving back through the flash flooded canyon and they hadn't arrived home. They waited out most of the night with their own grandmother until finally getting a call late the next morning that their parents had been rescued by a helicopter and taken to one of the local high schools. The Big Thompson flood was one of the worst natural disasters in Colorado history. The storm that caused it dumped 12 inches of rain over the canyon in four hours.

That's a foot. Huh? That's a foot. You're fucking right. 12 inches? That's not right. 12 inches is a foot. Did she mean 12 feet?

No. She hadn't. I don't know. That's almost a yearly total of rain. I don't think they could. I don't think you could rain 12 feet in four hours. I don't think. But 12 inches of rain is like up here and you're like, calf.

Well, I bet it's enough. We're up in California, you guys. We don't. Rain is cute here. Listen, listen, you can do a flood. I think of 12 inches of rain is plenty to do a flood. Well, a flood doctor, please email us and tell us what is a lot of rain. Yeah.

That seems like a ton. Great. But they do say that that's almost a yearly total of rain for the area in one that they got it all in one night. Oh, shit. So they weren't handle. They weren't able to handle it. No.

On top of that, in the steep canyon, all of the water that fell on the hillsides collected in the Big Thompson River, which is why the flood was so swift and devastating, 143 people died and the many and many homes were destroyed. Some of the cars were washed down the river with were only identifiable by their VIN number. The sediment on the in the water had completely stripped off the paint. Wow. Shit. My grandparents car was never found in 2006, three years before she died.

My grandma got to meet the man who saved their lives, the guy who banged on the window. Really? Butch Hutchins. Of course, that's his name. He said he had stayed away from the flood memorials because he was afraid to learn that he could have done more. Oh. But it's because of him that I got to meet both my grandparents, SSDGM, Maya.

Wow. Butch Hutchins. Butch. Was that the name? Butch Hutchins. Butch Hutchins and Nancy and Irvin. Oh, my. Our best friends.

See, you know what? It's true. We don't take like because flooding doesn't affect us that much. Yeah. It is hard to imagine. Like the idea that cars were like unrecognizable and like that's, I mean, that's, don't make me say that's the power of water. You don't need, you don't need 12 feet.

So you're the water doctor. That's what you're saying. It's me. Ask me. Ask me. AMA water. Maya, do you know my first boyfriend died in a flash flood? No.

Yeah. That's real sad. That's horrible. I know. Well, he was, we were, we weren't together. You know, I was like young at the time when he dated, but then we got older as you do. And he went off to go to college and he and his best friend just got caught up in a flash flood, swept under a fucking semi and died.

He was such a wonderful person. It's really tragic. That's horrible. Mike Lewis. We met at Jewish camp. Oh, it's sad. Oh, it's so sad and people die young. I know.

Okay. Okay. Ready for more bad stuff? Always. Cool. This is New Jersey's Bermuda Triangle underwater ghost town. Yep. There we go.

Hey, you did lady, you did lady of the lake at a live show, right? I believe so. Was that the, is that, um, in one of the Carolinas or like, yeah. Maybe. Oh, maybe. Atlanta. I did like the lane, but that's not Lady of the Lake. Right.

Okay. It is a haunted lake though. I got sent that and I, but I thought you did it. I think I did, but, uh, I can check. Okay. It says, this title is intriguing enough after hearing about a fellow murder in those underwater ghost town in Minnesota 181, I immediately thought of a similar underwater ghost town near my hometown that is also referred to as New Jersey's Bermuda Triangle round Valley

reservoir was built in the 1960s in the small town of Lebanon, New Jersey. The state built two dams and flooded the small farming community that once existed at the bottom of the Cushetunk Valley. This included an old schoolhouse and several homes as water poured in the remains of the town sank more than 150 feet to the bottom of the reservoir to be forever lost or so many thought in the seventies, the reservoir and surrounding area became a peaceful place for boating, fishing, swimming, hiking and scuba diving. There are videos from divers that have gone to the bottom of the reservoir and filmed

the old building foundations that still exist below the surface. As many have enjoyed the waters, boaters began to go missing over the past 50 years, more than two dozen people, that's 24 people have gone missing and have died while boating fish and fishing in the reservoir. Oh my God. Yeah. That's a lot. I know.

I believe the first disappearance was in the early seventies when two men and their boat went missing. All of them, everything goes down together. Their bodies were never found again, but their boat hit the shore a few days after four years later. Two friends that went fishing were reported missing by their families. They were last seen sailing on the northern shore of the park when their empty canoe came to shore a few days after they were reported missing.

What? The oddest story from the reservoir happened in the late 1980s. Two friends vanished on a fishing trip on March 18th, 1989. After submarine searches of the water, neither of the men were found, flash forward to 1993, so like four years later. Then the body of one of the men was found preserved, still fully dressed with boots on when a fisherman caught the body with his hook. What?

Although it's believed that most of the deaths were from drowning, locals suspected a wind vortex or bad energy from the former farm town are responsible for the strange deaths pulling boats under the water. There are still bodies and boats that have yet to be found. Mystery of the reservoir still remains when a human foot without an owner was found in 2012. The FBI and the New Jersey State Police have scraped the bottom of the reservoir looking for human remains of the many who have perished there with no results.

Growing up, my friends and I would go to this park all the time and often to do the nefarious activities that high schoolers do, just like hanging upside down like bats and trees and floating, hiking and camping around the reservoir myself. I was constantly on the lookout for ghost canoes or body parts. Sadly, nothing that crazy has ever happened to me there. My sister lived down the hill from the reservoir for a few years and said it became quite annoying when she would hear helicopters hovering over the park constantly. You would think they wouldn't allow boating anymore.

Thank you for being two voices that I listened to while I'm in the midst of anxiety attacks and I need to calm myself down or accompanying me on a long drive. Despite a pandemic, my partner and I are moving from NYC to Los Angeles and I will need you to go across the country. Stay out of the forest, but also stay out of the water. Bree. That's crazy to me because I feel like people who fish regularly and people who boat are pretty experienced.

You know what I mean? They're not just going to tip out of their boat like probably you and I would do. They know the rules and they know what to do and what not to do and the A.K.A. the rules. That's just creepier. You know what I mean? Yes. It's also when you think of like if two fishermen go out in the really early morning, something could happen and just say it's a rogue wave on a lake, which I don't even know if that's

possible. Rogue wave on a lake, boom, they're in the water, it's over and no one saw it or heard it. Yeah. And I won't even get into the reality of the Loch Ness Monster absolutely coming up and knocking you out of your. Totally. I mean, that's what I thought.

So they could, you know. Water. Lake experts, lake doctors, is a rogue wave possible? Lake experts. The experts. Exports. Jesus. I can't speak today.

All right. This is another grandpa story and it starts, hey, sexy ladies, mustache and pets. Hmm. Kind of reductive, but I like it. I like it. I recently got hooked on your podcast after my baby sister bought me an MFM logo pin, the proceeds of which go to beam. My story has to do with the day I found out that my grandfather killed a man.

Grandpa was born in 1929 in a tiny town in Kentucky and dropped out of school in seventh grade because back then it was a totally legit thing to do. From what I know of my grandpa, he was a hands-on learner who could do just about any job you threw at him. This man taught himself how to repair lawn mowers. Who even does that these days? Amen. Yeah.

He worked hard his whole life and had some amazing stories about being a ranch hand for a bit and I will never tire of repeating his quote, you could get yourself a quarter and buy a Coke and a bag of peanuts and see a movie stories. Simpler times. Anyway, in 2009, my grandpa had a sudden decline in health and needed hospice care. Our family had been at his house for the past several days, keeping my grandmother company as my grandpa passed and when my dad suggested we'd go to lunch, while at lunch, my dad somewhat casually mentioned that my grandpa had accidentally killed his best friend when they were young

adults. Apparently, my grandpa and his friend would run moonshine because of because of fucking course they did. It was Kentucky and on one such run, my grandpa was driving after drinking some of their product. He crashed the truck and ended up killing his friend in the accident. Oh no. I know. My dad told me that grandpa never drank again and was of course heartbroken over his friend's

death. Hours after my dad told me this tale, my grandpa ended his time on this earth. It was a totally wild experience for me to hear that my sweet grandpa had lived with this guilt and pain for 60 plus years. I was a sophomore in college when he passed in this family story directly influenced my strong stance on drinking responsibly. Stay sexy and for the love of God, don't drink and drive S. Oh wow.

I know. So I thought of like carrying that with you your whole life. How would a... Horrible. Sad thing. Because of what... I mean, we used to talk about that all the time that I made so many incredibly irresponsible decisions in the 90s and I could have very easily killed someone with my car.

Very easily. Totally. So many times. Or even just gotten a DUI or just like... You ruined your own life. Yeah. Oh. You're not trying my hardest.

You're not special. You're not going to get away with something like that if you chance it. It's crazy. And sometimes if you do get away with it, you live with that horrible feeling of like, Jesus Christ, it's so irresponsible. Totally. All right. I'm sorry I said that you're not special, everyone.

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Follow Even The Rich wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Okay, well, this is a grandpa one too, and we're going back to Wisconsin. Okay, ready? Yeah. Hello all human and animal. This isn't so much a hometown murder, but a connection to a serial killer. First a little background.

I grew up in a small town in rural Southwest Wisconsin, and my grandpa is a funeral director. Growing up in a funeral home is probably what made me the murderer you know I am today. I swear it's not really as weird as it sounds. One day when I was at home for a visit, my mom and I started talking about true crime as one does, I asked her if grandpa had ever dealt with any murders in our town. She paused for a moment and then proceeded to tell me the best story I've heard about my grandpa. When my grandpa was in mortuary school, he and his classmate were called out to a crime

scene to help with some bodies. That crime scene was none other than Ed Gein's house. What? Holy shit. Right? My grandpa was there when they arrested Ed Gein. He says he remembers most of the house was the normalness of the scene. There was a pot boiling on the stove like he was getting ready for lunch.

Super creepy. No. That's not the creepy scene. Wasn't he boiling ahead or something? I mean that's, I don't know, they could have been top ramen in one pot and then his mother's skull in another. I can't remember. Now because my grandpa was in mortuary school, he was there to deal with any dead bodies.

He and his classmate had to collect and bag all the body parts that were found in Ed Gein's home, including the skin lamp and the nipple belt. To make it worse, they found the body of his last victim. Yeah, that's the one I was thinking of, which is the woman that was out in the garage. To make it worse, they found the body of his last victim, Bernice Warden, but had not found her head. Again, my grandpa had to help search the whole house for her head. Eventually, they found it wrapped up in a sailor, a wool sailor coat in a trunk.

My grandpa still has a scrapbook of all the news clippings of Ed Gein's case and arrest. If you ask him, he'll tell you about it. Holy shit. My grandpa, my grandpa is such a sweet, quiet, kind man. Hearing this story about him just makes me love him all that much more. Anyway, I love you and your podcast. It helps me through times of depression and makes me feel like I wasn't a weirdo for liking crime.

Thanks for all you do. A bonus story. There was once a farmer that came into the funeral home having died of a supposed heart attack. When they were preparing the body, my grandpa found that there was actually a bullet in the man's heart. The police investigated and discovered the hired man that worked on the farm had actually shot the farmer.

I can't remember the motivation, but he would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for my grandpa. Yay. That was from EJ. Thank you. Wow. Unbelievable, horrible. I mean, I don't care what business you decided you wanted to go into, nobody was like, and

this is where I'd like to end up at Gein's house, at Gein's mental meltdown home. Yeah, there's nothing that prepares you no matter how comfortable you are working with dead bodies. There's nothing that's going to mentally prepare you for that, probably. Hopefully. Yeah, because you're supposed to work with dead bodies. Some guy on a farm is not supposed to have a house full of dead bodies. Look, I'm going to go out and let them say it.

I think that was from Buddha who said that. It was wrong. It was wrong what Ed Gein did, slash Buddha. Strong stance by Karen Kilgarith. Dash Osho. That's the old quote. Okay, here's another dumpster. Pinterest quote.

What? I said that's my Pinterest quote. Oh, got it. Okay. This one's a grandparent story and a dumpster treasure story. This is full circle. Uh-huh. Hello, friendos.

Thank you. We sound like a serial. I love it. I just listened to Minnesota 182 where you all asked for dumpster treasure stories and I had to write in. My grandfather was the most influential person in my life and was such a steadfast source of advice and support during my challenging high school and college years. When he died two years ago after a two-year battle with ALS, I asked my grandmother if

I could take his favorite blue cardigan and she said yes and then asked if I knew the story behind it. When her grandfather, my great-grandfather, was dropping off their garbage at the local dump in Wakefield, Michigan, he came across a box filled to the brim with old clothes. He dug through it and found the blue cardigan. After trying it on, he decided to keep it. My great-grandmother was appalled that he would take home a quote, dumpster sweater and insisted that he get rid of it.

However, my incredibly strong willed, Finnish great-grandfather decided to keep it and only wear it when he went to work. A couple years later, my great-grandmother found the cardigan sitting in his work case and she tried to get rid of it again, but he found out and told her that he would give it away instead. I could fucking picture this grandfather blue cardigan, can't you? Yep. We probably have had it in our closets at some point in our lives.

Like oyster shell button. Uh-huh. Four of them. Like a little bottom V. Crocodile or on the lapel. My grandmother had just met my grandfather a few months prior and they had just started dating. My great-grandfather loved my grandfather and decided to give him the cardigan. My grandfather came from a very, very poor family and decided to take it because most

of his clothes were filled with holes and old. Fast forward 60 years and that same blue cardigan is now sitting in my closet. I love that he gave it to somewhere like that the great-grandmother would have to see regularly. It's pretty great. Also, it's like a gift until you go like, I got that at the dump. Yeah. It was great. Here, take this gift.

You thought it was a wonderful gift. It's crazy to think that my favorite blue cardigan was discovered in the early 1950s at a dump in Wakefield, Michigan, but I'm so glad I have it now. It makes me feel so much more connected to my grandfather and even my great-grandfather who passed away a few weeks before I was born. Thank you guys for all you do. I am going on to school to get my master's in nursing and I wouldn't be where I am today without you both normalizing, getting help from my crippling anxiety and depression.

Yay. Oh, nice. Y'all rocks, stay sexy and socially distanced, y'all. Kindly live. Amazing story. Yay. I love it. I miss thrifting so much.

It's very sad. I miss thrifting in the late 80s, 90s when there was actually true treasure to discover before eBay. Yeah. I mean, you had to do it yourself. Yeah. And all the old stuff was there. Yeah.

And you could really find true treasure. True treasure. True. Look. Sometimes it smelled. Sometimes he brought moths home to your... Look, sometimes you were genuinely poor and just needed a shirt. 50 cents for a shirt sometimes.

You weren't being cute. No. You needed it. But you also look cute while you did it. But you look cute. Because you were... You could make cute choices. Because you were young and you have no idea...

Send us any story. A complimentary. At this point. Yeah. You know what's good. Yeah. You know what's compelling. Right.

My favorite murder at GMA or you can go on our website, myfavoritmurder.com. There's a place to send it in your hometowns where there's like a forum on the fan cult too where everyone just shares each other's stories. It's cool. Stay sexy. Don't get murdered. Goodbye. Yeah.

Elvis, do you want a cookie? Yeah.