My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 401

Episode Date: September 16, 2024

This week’s hometowns include a neighborhood listserv and learning how to bartend.  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

This is exactly right. video. you'll realize how much more rewarding your hustle can be. Get up to $1,800 in value when you apply for the CIBC Aventura Visa for Business at cibc.com slash aventura business. Terms and conditions apply. My favorite words Hello and welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-soad. We read you your stories. We don't have to explain it again. We sound passive-aggressive.

We're smiling but we're mad. You know that feeling. You want to go first? Sure. My first email of today. The subject line is classic hometown across from grandma's house. Three-minute raid. Hi, Karen and Georgia. If you're reading this on the mini-sode, it's quite possible I'm walking my dog at the moment and smiling like a crazy lady. I always listen to this show while I'm walking my dog and have oft thought that between my smiles, giggles, belly laughs, frowns, and gasps, people in the neighborhood surely think I'm crazy anyways, if the shoe fits.

My hometown happened to my grandma and grandpa in the 90s in Springfield, Ohio. They lived in the same house on a fairly busy main road for years. And then in parentheses it says my grandpa still lives there. And the man across the street, we'll call him John, was a nice middle-aged man who had always lived alone. His house was an old school house converted to a home, and because he had inherited a good deal of money from his family, it sounds like his house was filled with all the things you can buy when you inherit a good deal of money from your family. One summer night, in the middle of the night, my grandma wakes up to a gentle but persistent

knock on the front door. When she goes to the door and looks outside, there is John lying on her porch, stabbed in the side and bleeding all over her green porch carpet. It turns out John had been at a public event downtown that night and had been followed home and men had broken into his house. They tied him up with telephone cords, robbed him blind, and stabbed him for good measure before making their escape. He had managed to untangle himself from the phone cords, crawled across the street with the knife still in his side, and up my

grandparents driveway to get help. When my grandpa finally woke up and came outside to see what was happening, he had one bit of advice for John, do not pull out the knife. John lived to tell this tale and oddly enough for our family, continued to and still does to this day, live alone in the same house. The men who robbed him were never caught, but I guess he figured they already took everything and wouldn't be back. I personally would have been out of there the next day. My grandma passed in January of 2022, and boy do I have some happy memories in that house of hers. She was a sassy crazy lady herself, and she wasn't always nice to everyone, but she was always nice to me. Oh, that

gets me. From when I was a little girl until the day she died She made me feel like somebody and if you can make someone in your life feel like somebody then I would say you're a pretty special Person stay sexy and don't pull the knife out Kara rhymes with Sarah. Okay. That was a perfect hometown just executed Like if it was the Olympics, yeah 10.. 10, 10, you fucking landed it, stuck it, whatever, great job. But also like, how frightening. The knock in the middle of the night alone, if it was someone you knew and they were just like, sorry, I forgot my keys, that's scary enough. Yeah. And opening the door. And then staying in that house, would

you stay? And they didn't get caught? But I bet maybe you know there is really something to the idea of like he survived that and went through it and he's like it's my house I'm not gonna get chased out of my own house. It's very brave. Yeah. I would just like a ramp up that security and get a dog. Yeah that's a perfect excuse. Get four dogs. Exactly. OK. I'm not going to read you the subject line. This email is probably going to be a little lengthy. I timed it at a two minute read, so maybe not super lengthy. Anyways, I'll get straight to it.

I am from Southeast Texas, Beaumont, Texas, to be exact. In the past two weeks, we've had two cases solved with the help of Texas Equasearch, a nonprofit search and recovery organization. Wow. The first case is about a girl I went to high school with, Kay Alana Turner. She was intelligent, driven, and charming, just an all-around amazing person. In March of 23, during what was likely an episode of psychosis, she fell asleep on someone's driveway in a town outside of Houston, Texas. They called the police and long story short, the police scared her and she fearfully fled

on foot into the woods nearby. She was never seen again. Over 400 days went by with no trace of Kay Alana until one day, with the help of Texas EquiSearch, her body was found on a private property in Magnolia, Texas. Texas EquiSearch was with Kay Alana's family the entire 400 plus days searching until they found her. The second case is a 25-year-old coal case out of Beaumont, Texas. Kimberly Langwell went missing in July of 1999. Her car, phone, and keys were found right off the main road in Beaumont, but she was nowhere to be found

and was never seen since. Flash forward 25 years, Beaumont PD issued a search warrant for the home of Terry Rose, Kimberly's ex-boyfriend. With the help of Texas Equisearch, they were able to use ground-penetrating radar and were able to locate Kimberly's remains under the concrete at Terry Rose's property within minutes. Though the outcome of both of these cases is not what was wanted, at least there are two families in Beaumont, Texas who can Terry Rose's property within minutes. Though the outcome of both of these cases is not what was wanted, at least there are two families in Beaumont, Texas who can have at least a little bit of closure tonight.

Stay sexy and support your local search and recovery organization however you can, M. Wow. Yeah. I would love to know more about that Texas EquiSearch. That sounds like- I know. That sounds incredible. It does that they're like not giving up. You know, we have some amazing sponsors

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Seriously, it looks so luxurious and like classy and comfortable but also it's not gonna break the bank which is just huge with furniture for me. Articles offering our listeners $50 off their first purchase of a hundred dollars or more. To claim visit article.com slash murder and the discount will be automatically applied at checkout. That's a R T I C L E dot com slash murder to get $50 off your first purchase of a hundred dollars or more. Goodbye. You know Georgia fall is such a busy time for people between back to school chaos and dodging those invitations to go apple picking.

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Go to home chef dot com slash MFM. That's home chef dot com slash MFM for 18 free meals plus free dessert for life. Yes, you heard it right. Home chef dot com slash MFM. Must be an active subscriber to receive free dessert. Goodbye. This email on the subject line is murder house and it says, Dear Karen, Georgia, Alejandra, Pett and other exactly right friends at all. Karen has spoken about next door and neighborhood lift serves before. And so when our local list served went into overdrive over a previously unknown to me true crime a few weeks ago, I knew I had to share. We moved into the neighborhood less than a year ago, though I'm from the general area,

so I'm counting this as a hometown." And then in parentheses it says, yes? Absolutely, yes. Yes. The answer is yes. There are no rules. No. First, the true crimes.

One of the nearby houses in my suburban DC neighborhood, which we'll call the park for now, was the site of not one but two separate sets of murders in the early 2000s. Both are truly tragic. In the first, a former state official and his young daughter were murdered in an apparent home invasion crime spree. In Maryland, realtors do not have to report previous crimes to buyers, so the next owner had no idea about this sad story when he bought the place a year later. The buyer, a popular middle school principal, apparently performed a couple exorcisms before

he moved in after neighbors told him about the house's history. Sadly, several years later, this educator was murdered after what he thought was an online date that turned out to be a robbery setup. After this, the house sat vacant for a while and then its number was changed and it went back up for sale under a different address. And now the main event. From my perspective, as part of the Park A to Z series in the almost monthly neighborhood newsletter, and then in parentheses it says, says yes we have a newsletter, the editor struggled to find something to publish for Why and chose to

reprint a story about the murders from 10 years ago under the banner yellow crime scene tape. So they do like a newsletter that has a theme, an alphabetical theme. This editorial choice provoked, shall we say, strong reactions. In a seemingly endless reply-all email chain with the subject line, the murder house, people weighed in arguing that it was disrespectful to the people living in the house today. Others argued over the tone and the language included in the old article, yet others used it as a jumping off point to resurrect other neighborhood disagreements. Some defended the choice to reprint the article, arguing that we shouldn't forget the past.

My favorite email tangent, however, sent to the entire community, someone pointed out that another commenter probably meant grizzly with an S instead of grizzly with two Zs when describing the details of these crimes. These murders, this listserv, and a lot of longtime residents with ongoing beef with other locals equals a truly wild introduction to our new neighborhood. So this was a place they just moved to. Oh my gosh. I didn't really get that from the beginning. CC all.

Holy shit. Anyways, thank you for your banter, stories, and reassurance during so many phases of my life. Stay sexy and don't wade into neighborhood listserv battles, especially where murders are involved. Abrasos, la. Wow. Oh my God.

Yeah. That's a fucking wake up call. Do you think that new home buyers or potential home buyers should be told about these things? Yeah. I think so. Why not? I know they have like a three year or 10 year in some places, you know, where like if something happened the past 10 years, but it's like, yeah, I want to know, especially if fucking home invasion. Yes. And did they get caught? I want to know that shit. It feels to me like if they're leaving it out, then the question to ask is why won't you leave it in? Like if that's something that you're trying to omit,

then what is the danger of including it because you're clearly doing it for a reason. Money and money. Money and sales. But like Law pointed out, those neighbors that have lived there are going to come and tell you the second they meet you. So you might as well just disclose.

Yeah. And then they're going to feel like they got fucking tricked. It's going to be shitty. And then they'll never use you again. I mean, I wonder if that's like a state to state. It'd be interesting to know what the... Is it like area, state, whatever, where the disclosures or is it a national rule? Yeah.

Let us know realtor murderinos. Yeah. And then tell us a story about it. And also you can say why we're wrong if there's something about this we're not considering because it just seems like why not just tell the whole story? Yeah. Explain to us please in a hometown. Okay, this one's called Circus Tornado. It's a little long.

It says four minute read, super worth it. So, all right. We'll see. Better fucking bye baby. That's all. You're really painting yourself into a corner there. Okay. Hey y'all. My first episode of MFM was Coincidence Island and I've never looked back. You two and your team are fabulous. That's a great first one if you're like recommending the podcast to someone. Coincidence Island. That's a good one. I swear y'all asked for natural disaster stories at one time so I interrogated my 63 year old mom Colleen about the deets and compared them with my tiny child memory to get the most accurate retelling of this bonkers and extremely

true story. To the point. Extremely true makes me worried. Extremely Karen. It's so extremely true it's beyond real. My family moved from South Louisiana to Atlanta, Georgia in the mid 80s, where we're used to hurricanes and not this bullshit. I think she means the tornado. Yeah. In the spring of 89, the Shriner Circus came to town and our family, as well as some neighbors decided to go. I was five and my little brother, Alex, was three. My mom recalls the weather looking overcast but that we were going straight to the big top tent so we didn't worry about a little rain. We secured some popcorn and our honorary red Shriner's Fez hats and then filed to our

seats which were just super huge metal bleachers. And of course we went to the top. As the circus began, it started to storm even harder. We noticed things were getting all wet just as two tight rope walkers fell off the ropes and into the nets below. My dad looked up and the giant tent was ripping wide open. About that time, the ringmaster got on the PA and yelled for everyone to drop below their bleachers immediately. Cue panic. Oh.

In reality... Sorry, not that I know, but that's not the way to handle that tornado syndrome. I don't know. Everyone drop below the bleachers. People who are 20 feet in the air, do your best. Like what are you... What? That's not a plan?

There's no plan. There's no plan in place. In reality, it was probably only a 12 to 14 foot drop from where we were, but to a child, it looked like we were in the stratosphere. It's one story. That's a lot. It's 14 feet is a story and a half. As an adult, that's a lot.

My dad dropped down first, mom handed us down one at a time, then she dropped. I remember popcorn all over the floor, which I was particularly upset about. She says, I too believe it's a superfood, Karen. Thank you. A group of adult men started running towards the back of the tent. It was then that we saw the industrial poles holding up the big top were, all caps, lifting out of the ground. The men were running to hold it down at no avail

because it lifted them up with it. My mom says I was pretty upset but not as much as my brother and says typical am I right? She was holding him as he screamed when a clown approached and offered a piece of candy. This was a genuine but poor attempt at consolation to which my brother promptly freaked the fuck out pissing off the clown who said just shut the fuck up kid. No. It says STFU but I'm guessing the clown said just shut the fuck up kid from a clown. That clown wasn't again not really thinking things through or just like so you're just gonna run up to a toddler while all this crazy stuff is happening. Hey, you're smart and candy.

Oh my god. I'd like to take this opportunity to reiterate that we come from South Louisiana. If you don't know anything about Cajun women, we are clinically insane when it comes to our babies. With my brother in one arm, my mother shoved this clown square in the chest and screamed, get the fuck away from my family. Yeah, good. He did. Sidecar, my mom says here, and that's how we learn to hate clowns, is that there weren't already enough reasons, but it's still valid. What seems like hours had only really been minutes and eventually the storm passed. As we emerged from the tent, the aftermath was evident. Claw machines, plush prizes, booth games, food carts, broken and strewn all over. Candy colored chaos as far as my little eyes could see.

You'd think this would be a prime looting sitch for some kid, but we didn't give a single shit. We just wanted to go home. When we did get home, my mom saw on the news that we had been in a EF3 tornado. That's a big one. Is it five the big one? I think it's either five or one. It goes up or down. I can't remember. Thankfully no one was hurt that day. I can't remember. Yeah, I think red. Thankfully, no one was hurt that day. I held on to that little red fez for a long time, but ultimately it was lost sometime along the way to adulthood. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as it was terrifying.

Stay sexy and shove an angry clown today. April, she, her. April, if you still have that fez. Oh my god. Sorry, I don't still have the fez from my childhood tornado trauma. That's okay. We're okay with that. You shouldn't hold on to everything. You don't have to. Although a little kid wearing a fez is kind of amazing. Yeah. I would love to see it. Or a dog. Or a dog. Good point. Karen, there are so many great reasons to adopt Not Shop. For starters, it creates mystery.

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Visit EmbarkVet.com and use promo code murder to save $50 today. Goodbye. Okay, the subject line of this email, unfortunately, is crematory that didn't cremate. A lot of us have heard this story or similar and it's horrifying. Hello besties and best for friends. This is a little long, but I swear it's worth it. It's actually not.

It's not even a page long. In February of 2002, my dad was a deputy coroner and he received a call while out with me and my little brother. He told us he had an emergency and it couldn't wait that we would have to sit in the truck and knock it out. We pulled up to a place I had never been that almost looked like a shop for vehicles

but had a stone sign that read Tri-State Crematory. There were police, GBI, white vans, and people everywhere, some in yellow hazmat suits. I was scared shitless to say the least because I myself was 11 and my brother was 4. Anyway, after being there for what felt like an eternity, my dad came back and I asked what happened. He replied, there were people that weren't taken care of after they passed away. I thought, what does that even mean? As it turns out, when people were taken there, they weren't being cremated. Their loved ones were given back ashes of burned papers or boxes or stuff like that.

Why? I remember when this story came out and it is- Were they selling it? No, they just were like overwhelmed and they weren't like saying no to anyone. So they wanted the money, but the bodies were like, it's the craziest story. It's so nonsensical and horrible. And I don't think, I could be thinking of a different story because I don't think that's the only time it happened.

Oh my God. Oh, so this one, sorry, this one happened in Georgia. Her father was a deputy coroner in Georgia. I do want to say thanks for speaking out about mental health. And also, you speak so kindly about health care workers. And I work in a children's hospital and feel very underappreciated most of the time. You guys are amazing. Never forget that.

Stay sexy. If you get called to a horrific scene that will traumatize your children, don't take them. Love, Victoria." She heard. Aww, Victoria. Oh, you should cover one of those or like a couple of those cases. Wouldn't that be cool? I mean, terrible. Well, just to find out how that something like that would happen. Yeah. Like, yeah. Like the different reasons that those places do that.

There is an episode of The Opportunist, one of my favorite podcasts hosted by Hannah Smith, that goes into one of these things. And it's not a crematory, it's an autopsy. It's a person performing autopsies. Oh, Jesus. And you're just like, what, how, why, the entire time. It's so crazy. I'm going to listen to that. Yeah.

Okay, here's my last one. It's the title is I'll see your 10 year old bank teller and raise you a 10 year old bartender. And it just starts, Hey, mofos. I just listened to Minnesota 396, where you heard from someone who worked as a bank teller for a day when she was 10 years old. My fave. This jogged my memory of the time I was a bartender for a day when I was 10 years old. Every summer in my small Ontario hometown, the Kinsmen, a not-for-profit organization here in Canada, put on a lobster fest fundraiser.

Fucking hell yeah. A lobster fest in the Canadian interior? They said, not sure why they did lobster, since the town is nowhere near an ocean, but I digress. Karen, you were on it with your biography. Don't try to make me eat shellfish. That was amazing. So frightening to me.

That's just why. OK. The day after the fundraiser, one of the kinsmen who lived on a big property outside town would host a big thank you cookout for the rest of the Kinsmen and their families. Probably all the leftover lobsters, right? My family wasn't part of the Kinsmen since my parents were very involved in the local Anglican church, Episcopalians to you Yanks. And even felt that secular organizations like it were taking the place of church in people's lives. Anyway.

Anyway. Moving on. My friend's dad was a kinsman and I was staying with them for the weekend or something. So they brought me along to the Friends and Family Cookout. I have no idea how or why. We'll just chalk it up to being the 90s. But somehow my 10-year-old friend and I got put behind the well-outfitted garage bar. Think cave of a well-year-old friend and I got put behind the well-outfitted garage bar.

Think cave of a well-to-do guy, Tiffany lamps, fridges, all the equipment you need, etc. Yes, all the equipment you need except for bartenders over the age of 21. Totally. Unsurprisingly, we had no idea what we were doing. The first few people who came to the bar had to patiently explain to us which alcohol bottles were what. No one stopped to question it. They just explained. No training. It's almost like they were like, let's fuck with people and have these kids be bartenders. Which alcohol bottles were what, how to make a mixed drink, open a bottle of beer, how much wine

to pour, etc. That said, I picked it up quickly and even started to remember people's names and their drink orders. Imagine a 10 year old girl seeing someone approach her bar and saying, hey Chuck, another Jack and Coke, another glass of Pino for your wife. I had a blast. After that, I took a sabbatical for my bartending career until university. I bartended slash served for a few years while finishing my degree, then worked nine to five jobs in the government

and corporate world for almost a decade. After getting laid off from my most recent corporate job and realizing how miserable I'd been tethered to my computer for 40 plus hours a week, specifically working from home during COVID, Jesus, I'm back to bartending and serving. Hey! I guess my love for interacting with people

while serving drinks was instilled in me at a young age. back to bartending and serving. Hey! I guess my love for interacting with people while serving drinks was instilled in me at a young age. Thanks for all you do. Stay sexy and don't recruit children to bartend or maybe do. XO Catherine. I feel that because I've done serving and I've done corporate and serving is so much fun. Yeah. And so interactive. You get to be around people who are happy to be there instead of being at work with people who are also at work. Right. And everything's organized perfectly.

Everything has to be clean and organized or you're going to get fined. So it's like my fucking brain just like thrives in that place. Yeah, it must be soothing. I know a comic who also bartends and used to write hilarious tweets about it. Just there's people who are so rude and so insane. Yes. But that can happen to you anywhere. Definitely. Yeah. And then you just get them extra drunk and then you're like here now you're nice. Kick them out. Yeah. Tell us your childhood work stories or were you a minor? Were you work stories or were you a minor? Were you a minor as a minor? Were you a newsie?

And write to us at my favorite murder at gmail and stay sexy and don't get murdered goodbye. Elvis do you want a cookie? This has been an exactly right production. Our senior producer is Alejandra Keck. Our editor is Aristotle Acevedo. This episode was mixed by Liana Squalace. Email your hometowns to MyFavoriteMurder at gmail.com. And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at My Favorite Murder and on Twitter at MyFaveMurder. Goodbye!