My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 395

Episode Date: August 5, 2024

This week’s hometowns include learning how to drive stick shift and listening to your survival instincts. Support this podcast by shopping our latest sponsor deals and promotions at this link: https://bit.ly/3UFCn1g Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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when you get to the main event, skip to the good bit using the card member entrance. Let's go seize the night. That's the powerful backing of American Express. Visit amex.ca slash y amex. Benefits vary by card, other conditions apply. My favorite murder. Hello. And welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-sode. Oh my gosh.

I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited.

I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so excited. Hello and welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-soad. Oh my God.

So small. So cute and tiny. Just a travel size amount of podcasting for you to get you through your travels. It's like the podcast is a rat and the mini-soad is a mouse. And you are a chef that needs help from the rat. Well, you want to go first? Sure. And actually, this is breaking news. It says, hi, friends, after listening to episode 435

about the maple syrup heist, I had to let you guys know this. My small town has a maple syrup festival. Okay. Okay. So we're totally off topic. This is the definition of the mini-so it's where it's supposed to be a hometown. That's what started eight years ago. We're literally breaking Small Town festival news on this podcast. I love it. I think it's our new way. Okay. My small town has a maple syrup festival, exclamation point, Elmvale population 1,750. Take me there. Right?

Is about an hour and a half north of Toronto. And every April we close down one of the main streets, cover the ice arena, and host a maple syrup festival. 2025 will be our 57th year. This festival is older than me. Oh my god. Except you're really saying something. And you guys should totally come to make it even cooler. Events include pancake eating contest, log sign contest, a variety show. Kill to

be at that variety show. Loads of vendors, loads of maple syrup samples, and then in parentheses it says, did you know there are different grades and types of maple syrup? Light, amber, dark? I have done that fucking fast, where you drink maple syrup, it has to be grade B, with fucking Kanye Pepper, back in the fucking early 2000s.

Did you just call it Kanye Pepper? I did. Is that your thing? That's what you call it? I used to do that accidentally for real, but now I just do that, you know what I mean? Now it just makes sense. This next part, when I first read it,

stopped me cold because of what I thought they meant, and then I realized I was wrong. A pancake house with live entertainment, me thinking that they built a house of pancakes, they just mean a local restaurant that has live entertainment probably. And then parentheses, in parentheses it says, it's usually several really old men singing very old music. And then it says, endearing. Close parentheses.

And you can take a school bus out to tour two different local family-run sugar bushes. The sugar bushes will show you how they used to tap trees with a spile slash spigot and bucket versus how they now collect sap. The process to boil the sap into syrup with the ratio of 40 to 1 sap to syrup, and they let you sample their syrup. One of the local bushes is famous for their maple cotton candy. So I think sugar bush is the sugar farm sounding like. Not to be confused with nut bush which is where Tina Turner's from. My great-grandparents used to make

maple syrup on their farm which was not in Elmvale, but actually near the Big Apple in Colborne, which is a genuine gigantic apple that used to... Sorry. Make no mistake, they're not talking about the Big Apple in New York City. No, no, of course not. They're talking about a literal gigantic apple that used to house bees and is now just home to some really good apple pie. I am baffled as to what the fuck they're talking about right now. I think it's an apple shaped structure that used to house bees now and lost their explanation

for that. That throws you off because then that's when my brain went back to, no, they mean a real just probably oversized James and the Giant Peach version of an apple. That would be amazing. I mean, wouldn't we have heard of that already? Okay, let me just get through this thing. My grandma, her name was Ruby. Ugh.

So good. Used to have stories about getting to sleep out in the sugar shack because someone had to make sure the fire boiling, the sap, didn't go out overnight. And making maple taffy in the fresh snow was her reward for successfully keeping the fire lit. Ugh. That's some Laura Ingalls Wilder stuff right there. Also because there's no confederation in Ontario, the maple syrup you would buy at our festival is supporting local farmers and family-run sugar bushes. And then in all caps, oh and you could try butter tarts,

another famous delicacy from Ontario. Anyway, have you ever heard of a butter tart? Having been on a dessert television show? Butter tart, no. Sounds good. Does, butter, anything. I love both of those things. Anyway, if anyone has read this, thank you. And please come to the Elmvale Maple Syrup Festival. And that's from Ashlyn Sheher. Oh, we're not coming. We're going to be the grand marshals this year. Yeah, that's right.

We're going to be there. Amazing. Love the info. It just sounds like a great weekend anyway. I mean, I want to get into that Big Apple and see what exactly is happening. Hell yeah. Let's go straight from that lovely bit of not Americana to a deathbed confession. Great.

It says, humans and otherwise. When I was little, I had a great aunt who was such a raging bitch to me. It happens. I'd always just thought she needed a nap every single hour of her life and proceeded to go about my day playing mobster bookkeeper. They do the crimes, I do the books with my brothers,

which I love that that's a job. It's hilarious. And trying my Barbies for witchcraft. Love it. Once I got older, my mom and I were on the horn chatting and I brought up this said aunt and how she was awful. Well, people react in all kinds of ways when they don't try to heal

from the trauma of a murdered parent, my mom said. Oh my God. My jaw dropped all caps. What the fuck, mom? This is prime family lore and I didn't know it. Flashback to like, I don't know, 800 years ago in the 1950s when said aunt was less old. She and her siblings had gone to school that day and later came home to a gruesome scene. Her father was hanging in the barn dead. The police had ruled it a suicide, but everyone who

knew the man didn't think that seemed right. Most people brushed it off though, because it's hard to know what's going on in people's heads now. And it was hard then too. Time went on and that little girl grew up somewhere else in the state. Dying in a hospital bed was a man whose last words were her father's name, an accusation of an affair and a murder confession probably. This man had thought my aunt's father and his wife were having an affair and he decided to do something about it.

That something resulted in a dead man. Is it true? Probably. Did he do it alone? Who's to say? Kyla. Wow, Kyla. Yeah.

I mean, that's a lot of big feelings in that one email. Totally, totally. So many questions. Also, it's just sad being a little kid and having someone be mean to you, especially like a relative. Doesn't really matter what the extenuating circumstances are, but then you hear that and then you go,

oh my God, the thing you kind of couldn't imagine. Totally, totally. The world can be a dangerous place and sometimes it's hard not to envision the worst case scenario. You mean like talking to a stranger at a party? Absolutely. And then on the other side of the spectrum, completely home invasion. Well, if you have Simply Safe, you can have peace of mind knowing that your home is protected. So you can worry about the things that matter, like the other weird things you do at parties. Simply Safe knows that in a crisis, every moment counts.

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Zocdoc.com slash murder. Goodbye. Let's change it up with this. I'm not going to read you the subject line. It says, hey all, I've been wanting to write this story for a while, but after listening to Minnesota 372, where you asked for funny stories that your family keeps retelling, I knew it was time. That's a good suggestion.

Let's get right into it. I was 10 years old, the oldest of at that time four siblings. There's more coming. My brother was eight and we were rushing to get to my baby sister's doctor's appointment. We were running late as usual when my brother let out a scream from the main floor bathroom. Somehow the door had jammed shut. We're still not sure what happened, as this door wasn't locked. My mom called a locksmith on her flip phone and per his instructions, attempted to pick the bathroom door with a metal pick and then a credit card, all to no avail. My little brother, who tended to become dramatic in times of stress,

was, to put it mildly, freaking out. He kept shrieking that he was going to, quote, stay in the bathroom forever and would never see our baby sister again. End quote. My mom frazzled as we were already late for the appointment, and by my brother's hysterics, put down the lockpick and went into our garage and returned, I kid you not, with an axe. She calmly told my brother to stand on the toilet and face the wall and then, like the

badass she is, chop a hole in the bathroom door. You gotta do it sometimes. Holy shit. This is a woman with four children. You gotta do it sometimes. Holy shit. This is a woman with four children. Yeah. She doesn't have time for these antics. Grab an axe.

Please do. We all stood there in shock as my mom set down the axe and then carefully lifted my brother through the jagged hole she made. Oh my god. We then drove to the doctor's appointment. Oh my god. When my dad got home from work that day, he stared at the hole in shock as my mom calmly recounted that day's events.

To this day, we have never let her or my brother live it down good. My dad even made them pose for a picture, my brother in the bathroom, his head poking through the hole in the door, and my mom, the axe slung over her shoulder like a lumberjack. That is so cute. It's so cute. That's just one of the historical adventures we've gone through as a family, but it's definitely one of my favorites. Love to the podcast and shout out to Ann Marie, who recommended it to me a year ago. Thanks Ann Marie. Thank you.

She's doing grassroots work. Like to this day, Ann Marie. Appreciate you. She's doing grassroots work, like to this day, Anne Marie. Appreciate you. Slowly making my way through the archive, mainly on my commutes to work, and definitely not during work. Stay sexy and always keep an ax in the garage, A. We need an ax, yeah. Yeah, solves a lot of problems.

You know what got me the most about that letter is someone listening to us, it just made me feel really old that an eight-year-old had a parent with a flip phone. Yeah. Yep. Oh, I sometimes get those in a way where people are like,

it was so long ago, 1997. Or I'm like, can I what? It's all relative. Time is a construct, you fucking asshole. My mom didn't have a cell phone until I was in my 20s. So that's just how old. I feel like my mom was against all technology right up until the end. I could see that.

Yeah. As a nurse. Yeah. I don't know why. As a nurse, that doesn't make any fucking sense. Okay. This one's called A Car Ran Over My Lunch. Oh.

Hello, fabulous ladies. I'm a day one listener and really enjoyed the first rewind episode. Thank you. Thank you. In it, Georgia mentioned that she does not sit near windows at restaurants because a car could crash through it. That's true. She is not wrong.

Here's my story. Oh, shit. Uh-huh. How is it satisfying to have someone come in and affirm your fear? Oh, that's like the point of this podcast. Yeah, it kind of is. See? See? I love it. We told you.

Yeah. I'm an accountant at a nonprofit in Madison, Wisconsin. In the summer of 2011, I was processing payroll and needed a break to clear my head. One of my favorite spots for a peaceful lunch was a sandwich shop that played classical music. I ordered a toasted cheese sandwich and a diet coke and headed to the side room with high tables along the windows. I hopped up on a stool with my side to the window. I was just getting started on my book and my sandwich when something caught my eye outside. There was a row of parking spots perpendicular to the building, and a car was driving towards the spot right outside the window. Hmm.

In a flash, I realized that they weren't slowing down, but were instead speeding up. I jumped off the stool and started running. The car crashed through the window, and the table I'd just been sitting at pushed into my back as I ran. Holy shit. It's fucking like an action movie.

Yes. The car hit the wall on the other side of the room and came to a stop. The driver still had their foot on the gas and the tires were burning on the tile floor, filling the restaurant with smoke. I ran into the main room and plopped into the first seat I came to.

The man at the table said he had seen me running, but didn't know why. He said, quote, I thought you looked pretty stupid until that car crashed through the window. Thanks, sir. And I just wrote, nice. Okay. As the smoke started to clear, the manager spotted me.

He had thought I was under the car and was completely freaking out. Oh. Because they would have been under the fucking car, into the wall. Oh, the idea that she was smart enough to run. Yeah. Like, it doesn't matter if you look stupid sometimes, you just got to fucking go with your instincts. Especially with something where it's like, what's the choice there?

Yeah. What's the outcome? I'm going to stay here and not be embarrassed and die. Or run. Come on. You got to run. Eventually, the car was turned off and the police arrived. The driver had hit the gas instead of the brakes, and then their panic accelerated into the building. Thankfully, no one was injured. I was pretty

shaken up by this incident and I didn't want to be afraid to get my favorite sandwich. So a few weeks later, I went into, I went. That is the main concern here. I get it. Is that toasted cheese sandwich. I thought it had to be good. What was it, a Munster, Pepper Jack? What if toasted cheese and Diet Coke are ruined for me forever? Because this fucking car. What if I had PTSD from toasted cheese sandwiches?

I love this part of the story. They're gonna fight back. They're gonna fight for their right to toasted cheese. She, Sarah, went in to order takeout. That was like her first step. Okay. The manager was at the register, and when he saw me, he flinched and knocked all the stacked paper cups

off the counter onto the floor. He said he'd been having nightmares about me crushed by the car. Oh. I know. A few months later, I had lunch in the middle of the main room away from the windows. I had hoped to eventually make it back to the side room

where the accident occurred, but the shop closed for good before I was ready to give it a try. Thank you for your podcast. I love it more than I can explain. Stay sexy and always face the windows, Sarah. Sarah, you're so right. But Sarah, you have anonymity now. You can sit next to any window for the rest of your life

and you're gonna be fine. Because the chances of that happening twice to someone, anonymity is not the word, is it? Right. It is. I knew I was like, she's going to explain it. That's anonymous. Right. You mean like a free pass. Basically, you've beaten the odds, so there's no way it can happen again. But what's the word I was trying to say? Alejandro, do you know the word? Ben said immunity. Immunity. Immunity. Yes. Ben got it. Yes.

Thank you, Ben. It's immunity. Immunity. There you go. But Ben, she also, I thought you meant like she has the anonymity, like she can go sit by people who are sitting by windows and be like, you're very, you're very at risk right now. Only I know.

She's got something. You know what she got? She walks in a bubble of charmed air because that is coming so close that the table gets pushed into your MFing back. Are you kidding? And the fact the foot's still on the gas pedal when it's hit the wall, that to me is just so violent and scary. Yes. That's amazing. I hate to, you know, edit her story,

but it could have been really sweet if she had married that manager. Oh, the manager? Oh, are they coming to business together? She's toasting sandwich business together. And as they build this business, she's like, look me in the eyes. Your nightmares aren't true.

Let's build a life together. Oh my god. There are so many crazy subscription boxes out there. Did you know there's a company that will send you animal bones every month, Karen? That would actually save me so much time. It would be hard to forget about that subscription, but Rocket Money can alert you to subscriptions you may have forgotten about and help you cancel the ones you no longer need. Rocket Money is a personal finance app that finds and cancels your unwanted subscriptions,

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Cancel your unwanted subscriptions by going to rocketmoney.com slash murder. That's rocketmoney.com slash murder. Rocketmoney.com slash murder. Goodbye. This, oh man, this is a good story. I won't read you the subject line. Well, I actually can. Grandparents who don't snitch. Hello all.

I'm uncomfortable, but you asked for stories about grandparents having your back, so I'll get right to it. Hopefully it's decent enough to make it on the pod. It is. It is. I'm the youngest of three to a single mom who worked at least three jobs most of my life. If you think about, I've worked two jobs. Oh my God. And it almost killed me. Working three jobs and having kids, and people do it all the time in this country, especially these days, it's insane.

We don't pay enough. Okay. That's for another time. When they could, my grandparents, Norman and Barbara, took care of us. Otherwise we were left to our own devices. Okay, so it's 2008. Obama's running for presidential office, I, 15, learned to drive stick shift because my mom was convinced I would get stranded somewhere and the only

option for rescue or safety would be me needing to drive a standard vehicle. I love it. Yes. That's the level of anxiety I want as a parent. Yeah, just let's do preventative measures every possible where we can. Right. Luckily, this mom didn't know about the story you just told, where it's like, also, we weren't allowed to sit by windows. Okay. So that's the mom's plan, but it was not going well.

Anyway, I had to go to my friend's house, and it had his all caps. Since no one would take me, and being the brat that I was, I grabbed the keys to the shared beat up 1996 Jetta and my learner's permit and headed out. Grinding gears, stalling, causing traffic, and in near tears, the whole walkable eight miles, which stopped me dead in my tracks. So I was like, are you out of your ever loving mind? No, it's not.

I arrived safely at my destination. Taking a moment to collect myself, I flip open my razor to see a voicemail from my sister saying, Mom reported the car stolen and if I didn't get home right away, I would be arrested and put in jail. Adrenaline already high. This sent me into a full-blown panic. So instead of going home or any other logical solution, I decided to drive an hour and over 30 miles

of winding mountain back roads and across state lines to my grandparents' house. It was the only other place I knew how to get to. And teen logic told me the police wouldn't look for me there. Oh my God. By some miracle, I arrived at my grandparents without incident. I walked through the front door, I arrived at my grandparents without incident. I walked through the front door, tears streaming down my cheeks and visibly shaking to my sweet

grandparents sitting in their Lazy Boys watching the Weather Channel, and I just blurted out, I stole the Jetta and Mom wants me in jail. My grandma jumped up to calm me down the way only grandmas can, as I told her exactly what I did and grandpa silently walked out to check the car. Graham got on the phone to call my mom. She lied to my mother, saying her and my grandpa picked me up to give me driving lessons and she was sorry they didn't call.

Well folks, my mom had no idea what she was talking about. Better yet, she didn't even know I was gone. My sister just wanted to use the car." Oh my God. I mean, that part is such a showstopper and so classically sister behavior. So it says, I stayed the night and received real lessons the following morning from Gramps as they drove me home. Graham following behind to be a buffer from the honking.

These are the best grandparents of all time. So sweet. My sister and I both lost car privileges for a week. The sister goes down too for that. Yeah. Fuck yeah, she does. She should more so. She should get that.

She caused that. My sister and I both lost car privileges for a week, but does that really matter when you're a latchkey kid? No, it actually doesn't. My grandparents were truly incredible people. I hit the jackpot with them. I miss them both every second of every day. Stay sexy and go to your grandma who won't hesitate to lie for you. Gigi. She her. Gigi's my grandma's nickname. It was my grandma's nickname. Oh, full circle. That is so sweet. I love that so much.

I've definitely cried in the beginning of learning how to drive stick. Oh my God. With cars honking behind me like on a hill. I'll never forget my sister learning to drive stick. Me and my dad had Volkswagen's our whole life. So he was, he could like build them and fix them and stuff. That was the whole point of like, it's good to have a car like this because you can fix it yourself.

And I was in the backseat, my sister's driving and doing it wrong. So we're just going back and forth like that. Like everyone's and my dad's screaming at her because he's just a constant screamer. Right. I am the backseat laughing. Like I can't stop laughing. And she starts crying because she and it's like, well, you just like you just have to pull the clutch out slower.

Like you're just doing it wrong. It was mayhem. And then by the time I was there, I was just like, I'm going to be the best stick shift of all time. Oh, yeah. Yeah. I was I was really good at it. Yeah. It's a skill. It's a true skill. It is. Okay. This one's long. My last one. It's called Trash Dad. More like

Treasure Dad. Oh, and it ends with some good grandparent names too. Nice. Okay. Hi, Karen and Georgia. I have been listening since the episode had number pun names. Thanks for being my headphone friends for more than eight years. Headphone friends? You asked for trash dad stories, and here's mine, but I think by the end you'll agree that my dad is actually a treasure dad. My classic trash dad. Drove a series of junkie looking pickup trucks that secretly had supercharged engines

because he had a friend who built race car engines. Hell yes. Fuck yeah. And kicking stereo systems. He smoked his Marlboro's out the window and ashted an empty can of his ever present diet Shasta. And then it says, did I learn this the hard way? Like every kid sure as hell did.

Yup, taking a big swing. Oh my God, she took a sip of it. Of course. Oh, I didn't get that at first. And it says, I sure as hell did. He also rode a Harley and had tons of biker friends who he did the Toys for Tots run with every year. Oh. He was a mechanic on European sports cars and then a typesetter when I was very little, which meant we had a DIY darkroom in the garage. And then it says, pause to insert an explanation to the youths and maybe to everyone of what a typesetter did if you would like.

Sure. Another thing we can do it as if we. I thought typesetting had to do with like the newspaper and stuff. I don't know what it has to do with the dark room. Yeah, me too. Please write back in if you have an explanation yourself that you want to give us. Tell us your weird typesetter story. And he had a Siamese cat who was named Kat. My grandma's Siamese cat from the same litter

was naturally named Kat 2, like Kat number two. I was devastated when I was around six and Kat died of old age at 17 after a prosperous life of scaring the neighborhood kids and murdering the Blue Jays who tried to hassle her. So for Christmas, my dad got me a tabby kitten and I named her Snuggles. Several months later, a wildfire hit my small California town and we had to evacuate. My mom drove in my grandma's house, but we couldn't find Snuggles in the confusion of

leaving and I was of course inconsolable. When my dad got out of class across town, he talked to my mom and found out about the kitten and how sad I was. So my treasure dad got on his motorcycle and sped towards our home. When he got to the fire department barriers, he convinced the firefighters that he needed to get into the house because his daughter's kitten was in there. What if one of them was your dad? Right? You mean like my dad? Yeah, like Jim.

Because it's a small California town. Oh, did they say anything else about? No, not about that. Anyway, they agreed because my shy dad can low key talk anyone into anything. Dad went into the house, scooped up my kitty, zipped her into his motorcycle jacket, and rode the 15 or so miles to my grandma's house.

There are so many great things about my dad. He got me into David Lynch through his love for Twin Peaks and getting me to watch Eraserhead at maybe age 11. No. He's always been into good music and great stereo equipment, and he wouldn't let me join the Girl Scouts because it seemed fascist. Ha ha ha. My dad was in Vietnam, and one of the few times

I've seen him cry was at an Arlo Guthrie concert during When a Soldier makes it home. And he and my mom have been married for 48 years. Hell yes. My dad is turning 80 this year. I love him so much. And I'm so lucky to have a treasure dad as a role model for doing your own thing. And of course, being obsessed with cats.

I've said DGM, Anna. And then it says, PS, bonus grandma names. Mine were Undine and Mildred. Oh, I had to look up Undine. That's how it's Irish, right? Some are like mythological or something. Oh, OK. Also, my dad's dad name was Lloyd. And in addition to a son, also named Lloyd,

he had a daughter named Lloydine. No, that's it. Yep. Lloydine. Lloydine, get over here. Lloydine, give me that's it. Yep. Lloydene. Lloydene, get over here. Hello, Dane. Give me that Shasta. That's mine. Oh, that's not... There's nothing...

I understand what they meant by the title, but there's nothing trashy about that dad. No. I get it, but no. I think that dad was of a time. Totally. It's so like 70 it, but no. I think that dad was of a time. Totally. Because it's so like 70s, 80s. You can smell it.

It smells like exhaust and cigarettes and all the things. Send us all your stories, please. My favorite murder at Gmail. Those were such good ones. Thank you all for writing in and stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie?

Ah. This has been an Exactly Right production. Our senior producer is Alejandra Keck. Our editor is Aristotle Acevedo. This episode was mixed by Liana Scolacci. Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder atMurder at gmail.com. And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at MyFavoriteMurder and on Twitter at MyFaveMurder. Goodbye!