My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 248

Episode Date: October 11, 2021

This week’s hometowns include using a meat tenderizer in self-defense and trusting a stranger with your brand-new tv.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. The mini-soat. Where's mini? There you go. Just a little guy. Teenage I mean. Do you know, Georgia, how your favorite thing is when I just read you emails to people from

people? That's been my favorite thing since before I even knew you. Right? I didn't even know I needed it in my life. There's really nothing like someone reading an email. It's great. It's really a structured thing that pulls you through emotionally. It tells the story.

It brings you to a specific place in time. Yeah. It's a great way also for what my mom always yells at me to practice my enunciation because it's my fault. She can't understand what I'm saying. Not that she's 75. Wait, what? In emails?

In emails? Well, when I speak out loud, I mean. But yeah, it's in emails too. She yells at me. It's really, it's fun for the whole family. You know, it's great to always be in contact whether it's on the phone or through via digital mail. Or not at all.

Hey, you want to go first or you want me to go first? Or cut them out. Are you ready? Do you want to go? Sure. I'll go. We're filming these, so if you want to watch them, you can see them in our, and if you're joined the fan cult for just $40 a year, you can see Karen fluff her hair right now.

You can see my Halloween theme shirt blouse. It's a little tiny vampire thing, these things. Oh, like the ones you get as a trick or treat? Yeah. And you put them in your mouth and you hack, hack, hack, get them. They're going to last. Plastic, plastic, uh, Dracula. Yeah.

I have them on my shirt. Blouse. Okay. And we're going to give them a little cloth. You want to give them a little? Yeah, sure. It sure is. You want to give them a little shout out?

You want to get them a, uh-uh, it's actually a great design. Isn't it? It's a great design. And if you're got you can wear it year round. So if you're an office got shirt is for you. Yeah. Is it? Has everything.

It has everything. Do you have a bow at the neck? There's a small bow. It's a little bower like. Come on. It's like darling and gone. You're absolutely about to take a letter from Dracula. I'm Dracula, that's George's outfit right there.

I'm Dracula Secretary, okay, it's called Home Intruder. And it goes, let's just get this shit started. When I was 19, I was in college and moved to Colorado for school. I would make the 17 hour drive down to the holidays to spend time with my family back in Arizona. One night I had gotten home around 2 a.m. for winter break. My sister, who was four years older, younger, younger,

not older, younger than me, the opposite, was awake when I got home. We were chatting in the kitchen, but you know those late night chats with your sister or when everyone else is sleeping? Oh, because that's when you really get down to it. That's the shit. There's no superficial talking it

in a late night kitchen chat. It's all serious. Is there something wrong with our cousin? Did you see what she was wearing? Right, it was a shirt for vampires. She had plastic teeth shirt on, like she was some sort of secretary. We were chatting in the kitchen

when we decided to go to bed as I was exhausted from the long drive. My parents live in a pretty large, this is a total brag, by the way, five bedroom, split floor plan house. Okay, Richie Rich. Rich. Their bedroom was on the other side of the house.

Can you imagine having another side of the house of your house? The east wing? Sure. The east wing, separated by the living room and kitchen. Our end of the house had four bedrooms, but it was just my sister and I that lived down that long hallway

as the other two bedrooms were just for guests. And then it says... I think they each had princess phones. Oh, remember princess phones? And like canopy beds and stuff. Yeah. Yeah. And then it says, yeah,

think creepy long hallway from the shining. As we were walking, so they owned a hotel. Oh, rich people. So you owned a fucking hotel. If it was Paris and Nikki Hilton. Okay, we get it. Yes, we get it.

As we were walking down the hallway to our bedrooms, we heard what sounded like growling coming from the first guest bedroom. The first guest bedroom. Sorry. Oh, why am I mad at this person? It's just terms we don't normally do. I know.

It's like they could live in the middle of nowhere and their house caused nothing, but we're mad at them. I mean, look, it's fine. We all had grew up with different experiences. When people came and stayed the night with our family, you slept on a pullout couch in the front room. That's right.

Facing the front door. That's right. That's true. It was about as unwelcoming as you possibly could be. I grew up in a condo. So I don't know what. There was no front room. There was a room.

Yeah. This whole guest thing is a little nuts and privilege. I grew up in a condo. Okay. We heard what sounded like growling. My sister and I not wanting to wake up our parents decided to take matters into our own hands. We went to the kitchen, grabbed some quote weapons,

a metal hammer, meat tenderizer, and a large chef knife, and decided on the count of three, we were going to swing up in the door and see what was making that noise. Just in background, we had a history of kids of quote, hearing shit that wasn't real per our dad. Every year shit that's not real.

Dad, how would you know? You're over in the guest quarters. That's right. Come on. So I was expecting to find absolutely nothing behind the door. Upon violently swinging open the door, my sister and I were shocked to find someone in the guest bed. Our abrupt entrance coupled by her screams

woke up the intruder. My sister in a moment of sheer panic threw her meat tenderizer at the bewildered assailant and ran, leaving me there to die alone. I, again, in another panic, charged into the room for whatever god damn reason I still cannot explain to this day. And I was fucking stabbed, my own dad, with a chef knife.

Oh, girls. Yes, it was my dad. My mom had thrown him out of their bedroom for snoring too loud that night, which was the growling, which I fucking understand as someone who sleeps next to a snore. Full circle. It does sometimes sound like a bear's in the parents' room. He was screaming, whoa, whoa, with his hands up in the air.

Dad, whoa, whoa, whoa. He carefully disarmed me and then played me, told me to go the fuck to sleep. So my advice to you is always wake your parents up if you think there's actually a murderer in your house. And if you need to arm yourself against a murderer intruder, pick something a little more deadly than a fucking meat tenderizer.

Stay sexy and don't almost murder your snoring father. And then it has a shrug emoji. What a cool from AZ. I don't know what the point of this is. I don't know. I think a meat tenderizer is a pretty good weapon. Absolutely. So fucking spiky at the end?

It's a spiky hammer. It's a tenderizer. Tenderizer's the one's face, just as well as a chicken cutlet. Baby. Sorry, Nikki. I'm yelling at you. But what the fuck? It's a tenderizer.

OK. Are you ready for this? Yes. Am I? I won't redo the giveaway title. It just says, you are beloved by all. You know this. Let's get to it.

Yay. Come on. Aggressive compliment. I love it. I'm always the designated driver for my friend group. And one night about 2 AM, leaving a Halloween party, I'm driving my friends back to my house with her and her boyfriend in the back

and my boyfriend in the passenger seat. We're headed down a typically quiet stretch of a highway, US1 in Florida, when what might be the largest and fastest man I've ever seen sprint across the road. Oh, fuck. Of a highway. No, not in the middle of the night. He's going so fast, I figure he must be running from someone

or something so I slow down to prepare for something to follow up. But instead, he notices me slow down and runs back into the road. He stands ahead of us in my lane jumping up and down and looking frantic like he needs help. So I come to a complete stop on the road. Just there's right now 12 no's that I have not shouted.

Absolutely, absolutely. As soon as I stop, he stops moving and looks at us dead on in a way that let all of us know in the car that he meant us harm. He starts running toward our car and everyone starts screaming at me to drive. So I put on the gas and try to veer around him. But he Superman style flies himself into our car

with his fist out so it punches the windshield. This escalated very quickly. And I don't even, I'm like, in my mind, what would I do? I don't know. Well, this might help. The context might help your decision. Because this shattered the windshield, sending bits of broken and bloody shards of glass

onto me and my boyfriend, dented the side of the car and left the side mirror hanging. The man rolled onto the ground. So I stopped again thinking he can't possibly be OK. But he started to get up and I had to take off again. Yeah, you did. Once I got us to a point that I felt was far enough away, I called 911 and the operator indicated

she'd already spoken with a couple of people that night who had a similar experience with probably the same man. He had a hub. One of the. My hub is not another dude doing the same thing. Just like a coincidence. Like four random dudes doing the same bullshit on the highway.

Florida. She'd already spoken with a couple of people that night who had a similar experience with probably the same man, one of them whom he clotheslined off of a motorcycle. She gave us a place to meet up with cops. But when we got there, all the cops were across the street at 7-Eleven along with a firetruck.

It turns out this guy, after basically being hit by a car, even though he technically hit me in parentheses, ran down to the 7-Eleven and tried to put two guys just trying to buy cigarettes and beer in choke holds. Yes, someone's having an evening. I just love, like, I'm just trying to buy, like, choke hold. I'm just trying to buy cigarettes or whatever. And I get in a choke hold of all things.

And suddenly my older sister's there. OK. Fortunately, they were able to restrain him until the cops got there. And they were OK other than being very upset about being covered in this guy's blood. Yeah. Yes.

You're right to be upset. Apparently, a large, fast man was bleeding so much from his run-in with my friend's car that the firemen were having to hose down 7-Eleven, which is right when we showed up to give the cops our statement. I'm still not sure what sort of harm this guy meant us. Car jackass pulls out of the car for a fight, rob us, or what. But he was not in his right state of mind.

And I'm hoping he got the help he needed. I called my grandma, Betty Jane, to tell her this story the following morning, since it was the only crazy thing to ever happen to me. And all she said was, well, nothing good happens after midnight. You're right. Betty Jane, she's seen a couple of midnight's tonight.

That's right. Nothing good happens after midnight. I hope you are more entertained by the story than she was. Thank you so much for all you do. You really are a place of joy and comfort on a bad day. Please tour in Florida again. No. After that story?

Fuck no. And the signature on this email is Mimi. Yes. Yes, Georgia, like your cat. Smiley faces to the side. Aww, Mimi. Mimi. Mimi.

Fun times, right? Yeah. I love that. What you do in that situation, if a man runs across the highway very fast in the middle of the night, you go to the 7-11. Yes. And then you call 911 from there. That's right.

And say what you saw. Yeah. But if you are maybe not big, maybe not the kind of person that can fight a man who's running around, did she say you was naked? I don't know. It's in my mind, I know. But I'm also, you know, if you did need help, you also can't do anything.

So like go. Correct. The only thing you really can do. You should not be on the highway at night. Hold over even. No. Thank God they were sober. But like, yeah, there's nothing you can do to get help.

Move it along unless you are a trained professional. You are a helper, not a doer in this situation. This is not a Mr. Roger situation. You are not. You are not helping for people who aren't on angel dust, please. We beg you. Okay. My friend helped a stranger.

It's actually called my lovely idiot friend helped a stranger. But I didn't. Okay. Hey, persons and pets of interest. Brazilian murderer living in London here, suck. My lovely friend Maria and her cousin Nick and Asterix are not the real names. Their sweet young dummies in the early nineties and we're traveling between two towns in the south of Brazil.

Now, when I say young, I mean children. Maria was 11 and Nick was 10 years old. Can I just point out that they were both traveling by bus all alone? No. Four hours. As their aunt put them on the vehicle and said, bye, go straight to grandma's house, which was four hours away. Go straight to grandma's house.

They have a choice. They're children. You don't mess around. Don't mess around. Don't get off and go to the antique mall and whatever town. Don't get off and do something an adult would do because you're only 11. Because you're 11 and 10. You know, standard nineties behavior and it says, and how the fuck did we survive?

Anyway, just before the bus departed, a stranger hops in the bus and asks them where they're going. Once they reply, the guy says, great, my friend is waiting for a package to deliver. Can you please give this to him when you arrive at town X? It would make him really happy. Maria is delighted to be able to help out a grownup. So of course she says, sure, Mr. And he hands over a package shaped like a brick, but not as heavy.

Oh, the man leaves the bus. The journey commences. Maria and Nick are still high from the opportunity to do a good deed and are chatting and trying to guess what's in the package. They press it with their chubby, probably grubby little fingers and Maria says, I think it's flour. Nick disagrees and in an expert manner replies, I think it's talcum powder. This is the moment when the bus driver suddenly hits the brakes and two policemen hop in the

bus and start looking at the passengers, seeing nothing to be suspicious about. Two babies traveling along on a bus. Yeah, fine. They leave and the travel resumes. When they finally arrive at their destination and people start to come off the bus and die in a ponytail and leather jacket that says so nineties asks them if they have a package for him. They break into a big smile and say, we sure have stir and hand him the parcel takes the

item says thanks to them mentions their good kids and rides off into the sunset. Maria told me he actually ran and jumped on the back of a motorbike, which proceeded to speed away. The whole thing took a couple of minutes, apparently Maria and Nick's uncle finally arrives to pick him up and ask them how the trip was. Nick is quick to say it was awesome as they got to help a man and as his friend, the uncle obviously intrigued starts asking questions and then he realizes that his niece and nephew have been temporarily turned into tiny drug mules.

He says some words not fit for the ears of an 11 and 10 year old. My friend says that her family still tell the story around Christmas time and that now they all laugh. I have changed the names that don't want my friends to be in trouble. Maria became a physiotherapist and left life as the drugs might lure behind her. I'm not sure about Nick, but I'm hoping he's also managed to turn his life around. Yeah, really? Stay sexy and maybe just don't put your children on a bus without an adult to supervise them.

Love Caroline, she heard. Yes, Caroline, that's one solution to the child drugs muggling problem. But I think we need to go and find these two and arrest them now. Where were the other adults on the bus that are watching something like that happen and not just being like, no. Can you can you like not just hand the brick over like put it in a teddy bear or something that makes it like not just look like a brick of heroin or like what about this? What if somehow they begin to teach children in schools that just because a person says

something to you doesn't mean you suddenly owe them anything or have to hang out or anything. By the way, adults talking to children is creepy. Yeah, it's a red flag. I like that balloon or whatever as they keep moving by you. Totally. Come on. Come on, guys. Figure it out.

Okay. This, the title of this email is the time I let a stranger follow me. Hello, lovely guys, gals and furry friends. I've been listening to your podcast for about three years now and I've always wanted to write in but never had a fun story for you until now. My friend and I were at our local Walmart picking out a TV for my new apartment. We found a good one paid for it and brought it out to my car, not realizing that it may not fit as I drive a fairly small car.

My friend and I were trying to fit it in my car and I was on the verge of tears when a man started walking towards us asking if we needed help. This man was a six foot tall, really muscular dude that could have probably snapped me in half, but despite this, me being the overly trusting person that I am said, yes, the three of us tried to fit the TV in the car, but it was just too long. The man went on to tell us that he was a delivery driver and had an SUV that would fit the TV and he could bring it to where we needed to go. Yeah.

And in that moment, and in that moment, I did the stupidest thing I've ever done. I agree. I think I would have done the same thing, not everyone's a monster, you know, true. Many people are good hearted, but this is very sketchy. Let's hear the whole story and then we'll process it. And thinking I was being smart instead of giving him my address, I said he could just follow me home instead. And then in parentheses, I know just as stupid before I could process what was happening,

that guy loaded my brand new 55 inch TV into his car and waited for me to back out. As my friend and I got into my car, she blurted out, what the actual fuck? And that's when it hit me. I let a complete stranger take my TV in his car and was about to have him follow me home. Oh my God. I let my anxiety about getting my TV home cloud my stay sexy, don't get murder judgment, which I so relate to when you're like, I just, what am I going to leave it here? Yeah.

And there's no solution to this. Yeah. And he just walked up. So it's such good timing. Yeah. This is very strong man with an SUV is here. To avoid any confrontation. I just started driving while my friend and I panicked.

Just drive, drive, just go. We went back and forth with, why didn't he stop me? Well, what the fuck do we do now? All the while looking in the rear view to make sure he wasn't driving off with my TV and thinking Karen and Georgia would be so disappointed. No. No. No.

We'll decide that at the end. Yes. Yes. During one of my backwards glances, during one of my glances backwards, talk about that grammar later. I saw the parking sticker for my old apartment complex, the one that had 24 different buildings and security cameras in every parking lot. I told my friend that instead of driving to my new place, I would drive to my old complex,

park right next to the cameras and pretend to call a roommate and hope that this man didn't offer to bring it up for us. If he did, you could say no. Thankfully, once we got there, he took the TV out of his car, placed it on the ground and drove off. That way then, he was also like, what did I do? That's so creepy. These girls are like, I'm creepy.

Yeah. Wait. And he's like, maybe these girls are going to rip me off when I get there. Right. Maybe they're, yeah. The amount of relief I felt when he left made me cry, laugh and think, well, at least now there's something I can write in. I apologize for how long and poorly written this email is.

Oh, okay. Then I'll bring up the other thing. Remember to stay sexy and don't let a stranger follow you home, Teresa and Teresa's they them. Oh, and PS, we did get the TV back to my place. I had to sit in the back, I had to sit in the back seat and hold one of the back doors closed and pray it didn't crush me. That's a great.

Yeah. Like, so you have a twofold. Like, do they steal your TV that you just paid for or do they now know your address? Right. You know, in which case, if they wanted to steal the TV, they could just come break into your house. Oh, that's the thing I read about in like a how to decrease the chances of getting burglarized is if you buy a high item, high end item, don't leave the box outside in the trash.

Like, yeah, people know you just bought a 55 inch fucking TV or whatever. Yeah, exactly. And then they're like, Oh, it's right. It's either in there or it's in there. Right. Yeah. But I do like, I'm sorry, Teresa's plan of going to a place where there's no way they could know.

Yes. They just know you live in one of 500 apartments. Totally. Off the cuff. Great plan. And then how about an email every once in a while that argues all of the other stories that we are constantly telling to say, there's a guy that has big muscles and is six feet tall and uses them for good.

That's right. I told you about once when my car was like 20 and I don't know anything about cars, this little girl in my car stopped in the middle of the intersection. The only person who got out to help me was this huge, like fucking motorcycle muscle tattoo dude who like pushed my car into the gas station and then gave me his card because he was a tattoo artist. The only person who helped me and I'm crying in the middle of the intersection. Yeah.

So sometimes maybe send us some emails about people who ended up not being monsters even though you thought they were going to be. Right. Like a time you took the risk and then humanity paid off. Yes. You were right to believe in us. You were right because people are good deep down. That's right.

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You can listen ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. This is called, okay, we have to have one of these every episode, I think from now on, accidental drunk kid story. Hi. I really adore you all. I just listened to the hometown story where all those kids accidentally got sloshed at a barbecue and was inspired to share the tale of my own childhood foray into drinking. There was late nineties and I was six or seven years old enjoying Christmas dinner, the traditional

Jewish way, eating Chinese food at my grandparents house in Boca Raton, Florida. Hey. Hey. My whole family was there and everyone, even the kids were drinking out of fancy old fashioned glasses. It was a special occasion after a round of racing my cousins up and down the stairs. By the way, one time I got my head stuck in the banister at the bars at a haunted party. How'd you get it out?

Screamed a lot until someone adult came and fixed it. What'd they do, pull the wood apart? Yeah. Shit. Sorry, Annie Lane. After racing, I grabbed what I thought was my glass of Sprite and shoved the entire thing, my very first vodka tonic. That's an especially disgusting tasting drink when you're a child.

Yeah, because it kind of tastes like Sprite and then it says, it burns. Yeah, tonic water. When you see tonic water and you think, oh, there's soda, like the first time you make that mistake, it's so disgusting. Disgusting. My grandpa grabbed me and ran me to the bathroom to project our vomit before anyone else noticed what happened. He felt so horrible that he promised to bring me to build a bear the next day as long as

I swore to never again drink from a cup I wasn't already holding, which is a big rule, and I always make sure I wasn't taking a sip from a grown up's cup. I didn't fully understand what happened, but I knew that I drank something gross, puked Sprite about it, and then got a cool, new teddy bear wearing a poodle skirt. So like a week later, I tried that shit again. This time I was sitting at a table with my parents and my other grandparents. I grabbed my dad's drink and took a huge gulp and just shrieked because my dad drank scotch neat and it tasted like I set my mouth on fire.

I don't remember my family's reaction, but I've been told they all just stared in shock while I sobbed and screamed, all caps, it tastes so bad, can I please get a Game Boy color? You drink the drink and then you request the gift that you're supposed to get because you made a mistake. Like you just won a drinking contest, like you just did the 25th shot and that's what you get. And I bet that whole week the kid was like, what do I really want this time this happens?

Game Boy color. My parents had no idea what I was talking about because my grandpa never told them about my little frat party. He said I got sick from too much candy and running around. There were so, so many lectures for years to come about like the 950 things wrong with the whole situation. Needless to say, I did not get my Game Boy color nor have I touched scotch since. Stay sexy and just wait until Hanukkah for presents, Allison.

I thought that vodka tonic would be the worst or gin and tonic, but scotch neat, I think beats all the beverages you could have as a child. Adults don't even like scotch neat. They just want to look cool. Yeah, you're just, that's cowboy posing if you're drinking shit like that. It's disgusting. Or functional alcoholism. Or non-functional.

Yeah. Hey, y'all. Been sitting on this one for literal years, but as my therapist says, I'm an anxious procrastinator. This is the story of my high school teacher and coach Lee Cooper Wallace. In 1989, in the small town of Boone, North Carolina, a journalist named Jenny Gray was reported missing after failing to meet her father at church. Two weeks later, Lee Cooper, an Appalachia State University student and athlete, left her boyfriend a note saying she was going on a run and indicated what time she'd be

back. Well, on her run, a man pulled over, showed her a gun, demanding she get into his car. Terrified, she complied. He sexually assaulted her, forced her to take drugs and revealed his gun was a BB gun. During this horrific incident, he confessed that he was the one who kidnapped and murdered Jenny Gray and even showed her where he left Jenny's body. Amazingly, Lee kept her wits about her throughout it all and knew her only chance of survival was to gain his trust and outsmart him.

And that's exactly what she did. To gain his trust, she let him know when her restraints were loose so he wouldn't think she was trying to escape. To outsmart him, she lied and said no one was expecting her back at a specific time or would notice that she was gone. And ultimately, this is what convinced him not to kill her immediately. She took note of where he drove and even memorized his name from the envelope she saw in his glove box when he briefly opened it.

I believe he took Lee to a gas station where she saw an opportunity and ran and jumped in another person's car screaming for help. Holy shit. Luckily, this person was one of the good ones. And that's weird that we just were talking about that. Luckily this person was one of the good ones and quickly got her the hell out of there. Lee was the definition of brave and relayed everything to the police, even taking them back to where Jenny's body was.

Daniel Lee was convicted and died in prison of a brain aneurysm. Flash forward and Lee became a health teacher, student council advisor and athletics coach at our local high school. A total badass, she shared her story annually in her classes, led advocacy efforts, including speaking at Take Back the Night rallies, has been featured on an investigative discovery show and even wrote a memoir. Tragically, Lee died in 2021 from complications of pneumonia, despite being an incredibly healthy, physically fit 45-year-old.

Get your fucking COVID and flu shots, people. I try to keep this short, but she's my personal hero and friend, and I wanted to honor her properly. Stay sexy and you're stronger than you think. That was Lee's motto, Jay. Oh my god. That is beautiful. Yeah.

That was really, thanks for sharing that story with us, Jay. That's really cool. And she did deserve a tribute like that because she's a true badass. Truly. I mean, wow, unbelievable. I feel also the part of him taking her to see the other body, I feel like I saw whatever investigation discovery that got told on because it's, well, it's such a chilling, hideous kind of fact.

Totally. And then the fact that she was just like doing all that bad shit to get him caught. The fact that she was totally kept her wits about her, how hard would that be in a situation like that when you're just panicking? Yeah. It's amazing. And then the thing that we always love, which is afterwards, telling that story, advocacy, like.

Totally. Unbelievable. Incredible. What was her name again? Thank you guys. Please write in my favorite murder at Gmail and on our website as well. We love hearing your stories and we love reading emails out loud. We love it so much.

And if you're in the fan cult, then please go over there and listen to the many, many, which is the fan cult exclusive email that we read you every week. That's right. And stay sexy and don't get murdered. Elvis, do you want a cookie? This has been an exactly right production. Our producer is Hannah Kyle Crichton, associate producer Alejandra Keck, engineer and mixer Steven Ray Morris, researchers J Elias and Haley Gray, send us your hometowns and your

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