My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 193

Episode Date: September 21, 2020

This week’s hometowns include a family murder mystery and a water park rescue.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. Here you go. Can you believe it? Can you? That we read you your stuff? We read it right into your earhole. And that's how this podcasting thing works. And that's what people come back for week after week. An earhole massage from our vocal cords to your... Ew. What are they called? The little things inside your ear. They're like the... There's like a horn and a harp or something. There's little

cones. Rods and cones are in your eyes. That size. Look, ear doctors are screaming it right now. Please ENTs. Rep. Rep hard with this one. Am I thinking of the bread basket on the operation game and I'm totally wrong about this? I think there's something in our ear that's shaped like a thing. It's definitely like a... A wishbone? Steven, any help on this or are you... Actors. I know an ear doctor. Steven, as I said on the desk. Steven, when you got your degree. Sickle and hammer. Oh. That's in Russia you have that, yeah. Yeah. Steven, you don't moonlight as an ENT? Steven, you told us. You said the last time you were looking in my ear with that little weird thing with the light in it, you said... Oh Karen, I've been looking for this video to send

you because our new thing, our new pimple popping video thing is dogs getting the hair taken out of their ears. Ew. It's fucking great. There's like a, on Reddit, there's like a subreddit called Oddly Satisfying. That's like just fun to watch, you know? And there was this fucking poodle. I can't find it. And they just like pulled this and groomers pulled this and the dog, you could tell the dog went, oh, like the dog got shells and I can't find it. So you should see my insane Google search of poodle. Satisfied. Ears. Like the shit that's coming up is not right, but... Poodle chills. We'll get there. Poodle chills. You have poodle chills right now. Poodle chills. Okay, you want to go first? Poodle chills all day. Sure. The subject line of this

is suppressed memories found 19 years later. Right? Hey beauties. No. That's a great one. Thanks. Thank you. I grew up in central Minnesota, essentially farm country, and now I live in northern Minnesota, Lake Country. Last week, and I went home to see my parents and we decided to go out to a movie. On the drive, we were discussing how I've always had crazy good long-term memory. Just fun stuff to pass the time. Yeah. And what do you like about me? Well... Brad, you can do that around your parents. They'll just like, they'll indulge yourself in your high self-worth. That's right. What's something about me that you find very impressive? Why are you so proud of me being your child? Yeah. Why do you get that look in your eye

when you look over at me? Oh, it's your memory, almost entirely. We talked about all different people and places for my childhood and my parents were shocked I knew any of the things I brought up. Like the time I fell off a boat when I was two and almost died. One thing I always remembered was the farm accident that happened in our community. When I was around three or four years old, there was a family that lived probably five minutes from us. The dad was giving his kids a ride in the bucket of a bobcat when one of the little boys fell out and was run over. Yeah. And he did not survive. It was a story that we had all heard and feared. And once I got older, the other siblings and I rode the same bus. The older sister was always mean to me,

but I always thought she was just bitter about her little brother's death. I'm sure it would be horrible for any child to grow up in that type of trauma. Absolutely. Absolutely. That poor dad, like the guilt. Okay. So after bringing up this memory, my parents looked at each other like they were about to break the worst news possible. My mom looked at me from the rear view mirror and said, is that seriously all you remember? I said, yeah, why? And my mom says to me, honey, he was your best friend. You guys went to daycare together and you even talked about marrying each other. You did everything together. You were inseparable. I was absolutely shocked. I never not, I never not remembered significant memories like that. I even remember memories of that daycare from when

I started there when I was only two. I legitimately have poodle chills right now. Poodle chills. Yes, for real. Yeah. Because it's like, that's what little kids brains do. I can't do it. No, not doing it. I'm amazed. I don't even remember knowing him. It's like a missing puzzle piece was found, but I can't press it in to make it work. I think my subconscious has suppressed it so far down because a kid that young can't comprehend a trauma like that. Yep. Knowing what I know now, I can't help but think my relationship with the older sister was so bad because of my connection to her brother. Yeah. She may have been upset because I didn't remember him or that I just reminded her of him. Or maybe she was just a mean older kid. Who knows? All I know is that our subconscious is

a fucked up black hole filled with fantasies and trauma. I think this was, that's true. I think this probably was my first true experience with death and maybe why I'm so interested in tragedy and the circumstances surrounding it. Anyways, I'll stop treating you like my therapist and go talk to my real one. I got her turned on to this podcast, by the way, LOL. Thank you for being you, SSDGM, Ashley from Minnesota. And then the PS is her inviting us to her wedding. Yes. Oh my god. That's so touching. Yeah. That's, I mean, it's not fascinating and like the reveal, those parents must have just been like, oh my god. Yeah. And to hear that and just have no memory of it, especially having such good memory to begin with. Yes. That'd be so creepy. Oh man. This is called

the time I solved my family's not so cold, cold case. Oh. Hi ladies. Last week, my boyfriend and I were visiting my parents over dinner. My boyfriend made a remark about my murdering no tendencies becoming our unofficial third wheel to which my mother responded. Well, if you want a case to solve during the 1950s, your grandfather's brother, Houston, your great uncle, left to run errands one evening, but was found stabbed to death in a ditch the next morning. No one in the family knows who did it or why. And then all caps. Excuse me, mother. The same woman who calls every morning to tell me exactly what she made for dinner the night before somehow left this detail out. Quote, well, you're good at the computer. I'm sure you could

find something. She said, you're good at the computer, honey. I was up for the challenge using the online sleuthing tools instilled in me by Billy Jensen, as well as ancestry.com. What's up? Newspaper archives and a glass of wine acting as my Watson. I sure locked the shit out of it. And only to find out what my mom and her siblings had been told throughout the years was far from the truth. For a reason. There were no errands he ran. There was no ditch he was found in and there was no longer a mystery of who killed Uncle Houston. On the evening of August 13th, 1953 in Washington, D.C., Uncle Houston 39 was managing a local restaurant when he was stabbed to death with a butcher knife in just one strike to the chest at the hands of Dorothy, the waitress,

who was 28. At first, I assume this happened inside the restaurant. However, it happened in the basement of the restaurant, not just a basement, but the basement apartment they lived in together. The fact that they were living together was my first red flag as Houston had a wife and three children in Virginia at the time of his death. This also made sense as to why the story was possibly changed by family throughout the years. According to Dorothy, Houston got upset with her earlier in the day as he, quote, didn't like the way a customer touched her on the shoulder. So yes, they were definitely banging. This caused tension to build between them during the day and when evening came, Houston's temper grew out of control. He struck her with his fists and threatened

her with the same butcher knife she later killed him with. After the stabbing, Dorothy was held on a charge of homicide. From the research I did of my great uncle, I did notice that he had quite a trail of women. I'm sure for a reason. Personally, I'm team Dorothy on this one. Sorry. Sorry, Uncle Houston. Please don't haunt me. The old restaurant is now replaced with a bar and I have every intention of getting a free cocktail out of the, Hey, my great uncle was stabbed to death in your basement. Yes. Stay sexy and get those skeletons out of your family's closet for them, Laura. Wow. I know, right? If he had a secret girlfriend, live-in lover lady, then he was probably the jealous type because he was the cheating type. Totally. Right? Yeah.

So why wasn't that self-defense if he was beating her up? And then I, he threatened her with the knife too. So it probably was. It didn't say if she got convicted or anything like that. I'm assuming she probably would have hopefully gotten off for self-defense. But yeah, I hope so. Yeah. Yeah. This one starts pandemic greetings. My little brother was born premature and spent much of his young life in and out of hospitals. Needless to say, I hated him. I was not expecting that. That's understood. It's a beautiful turn. A beautiful comedic turn right away. And I'm thinking of like a four-year-old. If it was a 16-year-old, you'd be like, what the fuck is wrong with you? But yeah, that's okay. Anytime my mom said she

was taking him to the doctor, I would lie in front of the door and scream because that meant they weren't coming back for at least a couple of days. He always needed something special. He always got more attention. You know, sibling shit. So for first grade, my brother transferred to my elementary school. Late in the year, his teacher got an injury on his face, which required a handful of stitches. To ease the kids' worries, the teacher talked about how he got the ouchie and how stitches work and so on. He then asked the kids if any of them had ever needed stitches. A few raised their hands, including my brother. When it was his turn, he raised his shirt and showed everyone the long-raised, horizontal scar that runs below his ribs from surgery meant to

keep him from regurgitating everything he put in his stomach. When his teacher asked him how he got that scar, he looked him straight in the face and said, oh, my mom tried to kill me. Yes. I was immediately summoned from my fourth grade classroom. My parents were called to the school. The police and the DCFS came. Good. That's how it's supposed to go. Yes. It all got sorted out. I don't think anyone thought my mom actually tried to kill him, but we were just enough into the 90s for them to take it very seriously. Yeah, that was the advent of that. Totally. To my brother's credit, he may really have seen all his surgeries as my mom trying to kill him. But anyway, that's the story of the time my brother accused my mom of attempted murder, a worthy addendum. Though my

mom didn't stab my brother, I did, with a fork on his third birthday, right in the forearm while he was receiving happy birthday wishes on the phone. Oh, my God. I told you I hated that kid. Stay sexy. Don't stab your siblings and wear your damn masks. Love you both more than is reasonable. Taylor. Taylor, that is fucking hilarious. And it makes me feel a little bit better about my sister because she only punched me in the stomach, but I was like 10 and probably deserved it. Look, we all deserved everything. And we all also were true victims to our older sisters, who are the worst people on the planet. That's right. There was nothing more upsetting. We're the worst. No, we're the victims of the worst people. They were the worst people.

They were. Yeah. Not now. Yes. No. You're right. I see what you're doing. You're saying they were. In case either of them listen to this, which they don't, because they hate our gods. They don't care. They're not fans of ours. They never have been since day one. That's true. Oh, that was good. We always love what you did to your siblings or what your siblings did to you that now you look back and you're like, oh, you were trying to kill me. We love those stories. So send those in for sure. Yes. Okay. My second one is called, check your addicts before losing your virginity. Who says everything? Oh, hello. Long time fan. Cheers to college dropouts. We're all just getting through. Let's cut to the chase. So we all know virginity is a

social construct designed to shame women. A fucking man. I love you already. This is starting very strong. But here's the story of how I lost mine. My high school boyfriend lived in a very ritzy suburb of Chicago and a house big enough to sneak girls. And then it says, hey, in and out without even having to whisper. But for our first time, we wanted to make sure no parents would be home just in case we had a half day of school, went to his place, had a not at all mind had not at all mind blowing sex. Yep. And then went out to meet up with friends. So totally normal, right? Wrong. What he hadn't told me was that that morning as he was getting ready, he noticed a guy in a van parked across the street. This was the kind of suburb in which no one ever parked on the street,

not even landscapers or contractors. So this was already odd. But what made it weirder was this man was staring at my boyfriend's house. Being a teen about to have sex, my boyfriend didn't think about this whatsoever. Even as the guy watched him get into his car and drive off to school. Turns out this man had been in the middle of robbing his house when we came home. Oh, shit. Being the giddy fools we were, we just went straight up to my boyfriend's room and didn't notice anything else in the house. The robber was upstairs grabbing his mom's jewelry at the time. So when he heard us come in, he scurried up to the attic and hid out right above our room until we left hearing everything. Ew, ew, ew, ew. They thought they were alone and they were like

making sure they were alone for it to be special. And there was a fucking burglar in their house at the time. Who was jerking off to them doing it for the first time? Absurd fucking Lutely. Into old boxes of grandma's quilts. Disgusting. And then he was like, this isn't mind blowing, but I can still jerk off. He's like, oh, I can't believe I'm still a virgin. I'm so ashamed. Don't expect. It hurts men too. Don't expect anything special. Okay. Let's see. The first time is the worst time. Just find someone who's not a piece of shit. For real. And then do like two, two to 17 more times. You'll write it out. Yeah. The cops said that the thief had hit the neighbor's house before my boyfriend. So maybe having to wait us out, save the rest of the block

from being robbed to stay sexy and only fuck during robberies. Kate. And then she says, also just some validation in your last episode, you talked about journaling and writing poetry and as a trained poet, that is exactly how most of us feel 95% of the time. Every metaphor is stupid and humiliating. And we're all idiots. Alas. Kate. Wow. Good one, Kate. No wonder Kate nailed this hometown. She is a poet. That's right. She's a trained poet. That's right. I'm more of a feral poet. I tried to say that right as you were sifting that one. I almost spit this all over my computer. Got it. That is so it's I want to hear his side of whoever you are. Dan, Dan, the robber, we need you to write in immediately. Look, I did this. It was almost it started as a lark. Then

I really liked breaking into... Look, drugs are expensive and we need them sometimes. But Jesus, then this one time. What if he was just like, oh, this like sweet couple who'd like wanted to lose their virginity together. And like, it made me change my ways. I didn't jerk. Oh, I jerked off during it. But then I also went home to my girlfriend and was like, let's, let's do this. I want to marry you. Yeah. I was like, I jerked off. I felt a profound sense of self love. Right. Not just literal, but also in deeply inside. I realized I deserve love too. Yes. And the crime wasn't the way and heroin wasn't the way. He's like, he goes and hides in the attic and then three minutes later, he's like, all right, well, we're all done here. It wasn't like I was in there

for 20 minutes. It was literally three minutes. Did not even break a sweat in that attic. 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 like early fall. So 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 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. Yeah. I almost called you Mimi Karen. You have one more. I am the Mimi of this podcast. Okay. I'm not going to redo this subject line of this last one because it's stories going to tell itself. Okay.

Hi ladies, staff and animals singing back up. Oh, perfect. Right? It literally. I'm a huge fan of the podcast and when I heard your call for USPS stories, I begged my husband to tell his tale. Here it is. I've kept this postal story silent for over 25 years. Even now it's hard to admit I was the culprit. The events I'm about to describe are embarrassing and might have gotten me into a lot of trouble at the time. Now that I'm retired and beyond the reach of postal justice, it's time to come clean. Here's my confession. Oh my God. I'm so excited. So essentially we started with one voice, but now we're in, I believe, to the husband's voice. Okay. I think that's what it sounds like. Okay. In the 90s, I worked as a letter carrier at the

main post office in Novato, California, by the by, that literally is the town, the south of Petaloma. Oh, it's the next town down and half the kids that went to my high school lived in Novato and commuted up the freeway to our school. Okay. So Novato is like, what's up? What's up, Samrin Boulevard? Like, Novato. Novato, they have a Denny's. There's not a ton to say about it. And a lot of my family lives there to this day. Okay. Novato, there's not a ton to say about it. Novato, it's fine to pass on the freeway. Novato, now they have a drive through Starbucks, I believe. Okay. Every carrier spends the first part of each day working in the office sorting mail and

preparing their route for street delivery. At the time, there were more than 60 mail routes in Novato. Every carrier and clerk worked together in one large room about the size of a supermarket. We all worked in close proximity with almost nothing separating our workspaces. One morning, I was sorting letters and feeling a little gassy. Not wanting to leave my workstation, I silently released a small fart. I'm ready. I'm ready for this. Usually I could get away with this. Perhaps it's my diet. Oh, sorry. I'm a child. Perhaps it's my diet, but very few of my farts have any noticeable smell. Oh, congratulations.

You're kidding yourself, friend. This one was different. I don't remember what I had been eating, but when this fart hit the air, it was about the worst thing I'd ever smelled in my life. Oh my God. When your own farts gross you out. It smells bad to you. You ate like a half of dead raccoon the night before, something along those lines. The odor soon spread to my surrounding co-workers. There was an immediate reaction. People gagged their eyes. Oh my God. As the odor spread more and more, the people stopped working and fled. I might have been found out immediately, but it didn't smell like anything that could have come from a human. No one even suspected it was a fart. People began speculating it must

be some sort of chemical leak. Oh my God. Was it dangerous? Management was called, and the building was evacuated. Mail processing in Nevada came to a halt. This was now costing the postal service thousands of dollars. Oh, every carrier would be working overtime. Everyone in town would get their mail late. I never said a word. No. If I could just keep a straight pace and my mouth shut, this was all going to pass without anyone ever knowing the truth. Then we heard the sirens. No, no. The fire department arrived along with the hazmat team. Workers in full hazmat suits entered to inspect the building. Holy shit. Although they were unable to determine the source of the smell, the inspection revealed several significant health and safety

code violations. Okay. In the end, more than $100,000 was spent bringing the building into compliance. Well, that's good. Strangely, I felt a bit of pride. We were all safer as a result, and though we'll never know for sure, in the end, that fart may have saved lives. And then it just says Erica in Anderson Springs. That is the most epic fart that has ever fucking happened. And the guts to just stay quiet and be like, is that a camp? Like just playing along with whatever the person next to you says. Humiliation in your mind. Like, what's wrong with you? Oh my God. And then it's just in there. It's getting worse sirens. That reminds me, it's not the same, but there was like an office building like 10 years ago where like someone,

no one would fucking clean the fridge out and someone finally opened it. And there was toxic fumes and people like passed out and they had to get like hazmat people to clean out the fridge. You know how no one- Because it was just old, old cream cheese and stuff? And fucking disgusting. And it like, people got sick and had to go to the hospital. Yogurt with a post-it that said, this is Georgia's do not touch and stuff like that. Yeah. It was mine. But it was four years ago. Oh my God. Bless her heart. So good. The visual of people coming in in hazmat suits, like it's fucking the end of ET, but it's because you farted at your workstation is like,

it might be the nightmare of all nightmares. I don't think I'm ever going to fart and not think of that again. And it happens a lot. So I'm going to be thinking about that a lot in my life. You're like, wait, sirens? Sirens? No. At least it's not that far. Oh my God. I'm telling Vince about this. That's hilarious. Okay. I have one more. Okay. This says, it just starts high friends. I'll take that liberty. Maybe your overaction park stories. I hope not because my mom has a story about how it ruined her chances of snagging a cute medical student. Oh, it was the 80s. And she told her father, a classic laughing at my own jokes, dad, that she was going on a date to the place he so often referred to as accident park. Again,

guys, what is it called? Action park on HBO epic. The guy was a future doctor. She was a young Jewish woman from Long Island. This was huge. The date was going well when she decided to go on a water slide into a pool on a date, a bathing suit date. Can you imagine? What with a doctor? She must have been young. They must have been like young and fucking. She remembers some uninterested teenager waving people down the slide. Well, that dumb boy was sending far too many people down the slide after her too quickly. And they all log jammed midway down with my mom towards the bottom of the water slide. A huge wave came and pushed the crowd down the slide with my tiny mother at the helm. She was slammed to the bottom of the pool with everyone on top of her. She hit her head

and with a massive limbs around her, she didn't even know which way was up to get air. Luckily, instead of panicking, she remembered what a lifeguard once told her at her local beach. If you can't tell which way is up, just release your muscles and your body will naturally float towards the surface. Yeah. That's amazing that she was able to do that. Also same with release some bubbles and the bubbles go the right direction. From screaming. She thought the worst was over when she broke through the surface and could breathe again. Spoiler alert. Nope. My mom tried to play it cool when she met up with her date. Definitely not like her life flashed before her eyes and pretended she was revving to go on another ride. But her date was like,

let's just stroll around the park. Her face was throbbing. But again, she kept her focus on flirting. Hey, why don't we sit down? I'm getting kind of tired. He told her as she noticed her vision was getting blurry. Oh, they sat there for a while chatting when she heard a familiar noise. Wait, is that an ambulance? She asked him. Yes. He said very calmly. Is it for me? Is it for me? She's trying to be kind of like cute and sexy. Is the ambulance for me? And then he says yes. Yes. Before she knew it, her entire left side of her face was a balloon and her eye was swollen, completely shut. That push to the pool floor fractured her face. Jesus Christ. And this is action park. This is one of the many stories. This is one of these stories. Yeah. Her almost

doctor date had seen the slide over population and noticed the early signs of swelling in her face and put together that it could be a serious head injury. Yeah. Rather than freak her out, he somehow suddenly suddenly got someone to call an ambulance and kept her comments how they were there. Oh, it should have been a beautiful start to a love story. But when he took my mom home, my Art Garfunkel looking grandfather brought them both into the house and made my mom stand for a full photo shoot of her nearly unrecognizable face. What? I've seen these photos and the features you can see looked pissed, which I can't believe you didn't fucking send them in with the story. But I'm sorry, though. She goes on a first date with this guy, comes home and the dad's like,

we need to take pictures. I think he was laughing at her. He's a fucking dad from the 80s. Okay, got it. You know, and he's laughing his ass off like prom photos. Right. Right. My shy mom was too embarrassed by the spectacle and the photography to see him again. So it probably also means she didn't like him that much. Oh, yeah. But either way, now my mom can always give me the loving reminder when I have bad dates that at least I didn't break my face. I don't know how to end this in a memorable way. So I'll just steal yours. Stay sexy and don't make your daughter sit for a photo shoot when her face is literally broken, Madeline. For real? Why wasn't she in the hospital for five days? Right. Right. Jesus Christ. Also, like, picturing a person that would care enough

to distract you and basically keep you calm. How could she not? That's marriage material. What more do you want in this world? I think she's probably too embarrassed. Okay, but your face fell off and he was still down. So he clocked you into your house with your fucking weird dad. He didn't drop you off and be like, good luck with your face. I got to go back to the hospital. Oh, I want him to write in and tell his side of the story. What's his side of the story? Crush that she never fucking responded? Has he never been married since and now she's divorced? And this is the chance. This was true love. He watched her get, he just watched her get like plowed down that fucking water slide and he was like, she's the one. I can tell. Maybe he felt

too guilty about it to ask her out again because he felt responsible for bringing her there on a date. They both went into shame spirals and if they could only have just reached out, they could have my favorite murder, bringing it together. We're going to bring this love together. We're going to bring action park love stories. Action part because your face is broken. You have a concussion. You probably have brain swelling fluid on the brain. Fluid on the brain. That's right. Another hit, another hit. Wow. This was a great series of wonderful communications, everybody. Yeah. Thank you guys for writing those in. Please keep fucking doing it. We love it. Yes. All day, all night.

Love it. Stay off the water slide at action park in 1982. Stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Bye. Elvis, do you want a cookie?