My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 402

Episode Date: September 23, 2024

This week’s hometowns include a ghost story from a local historian and a grilled cheese and tomato soup festival. 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. This episode is supported by FX's Grotesquerie, a new series from executive producer Ryan Murphy. Heinous crimes unsettle a small community and the local detective feels these atrocities are eerily personal, as if someone or something is taunting her. Starring Nece Nash Betts, Courtney B. Vance, Leslie Manville, and Travis Kelce. FX's Grotesquery premieres September 25th on FX. Stream on Hulu. I'm going back to university for zero dollar delivery fee.

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And welcome. Hello. Hello. And welcome. Hello. And welcome. Hello. And welcome.

Hello. And welcome. Hello. And welcome. Hello. And welcome. Hello. And welcome. Hello. And welcome. Hello! And welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-sode.

You know it. It's email based. Do you want to go first this time? Sure. Oh, did you want to say another thing about email? Never. No. Never again.

Turn of the century classic hometown slash ghost story told by the town historian. Hell yes. Thank you. Hey y'all, this is kind of long, so I'll just get into it. I live in a small rural area in southern Indiana, and I was told this story by the local historian. In the late 1800s, the area where I lived was a small bustling railroad town. In the early 1900s, it was decided that the railroad tracks would be moved to the edge of town near the new highway.

In the process of building the new tracks, a man fell and rolled down a steep hill and broke his neck. Since it was the early 1900s in rural Indiana, no one knew what to do, so his friends decided to bury him alive and continue working. Those aren't friends. Like, what in the fuck are you talking about? He broke his neck, but he wasn't dead.

And they're like, what do we do? That is absolutely psychotic and horrifying. The story doesn't end there, though. Later, shortly after the tracks were complete, an engineer was driving his train in the area when he spotted something on the tracks ahead. When he got closer, he realized it was a person walking in the tracks, but it was too late.

He alerted the police and they came to investigate, but found no trace of a body. Ooh. This same situation proceeded to happen twice, where an engineer thought he ran over a person, but there was not a trace of the scene. Oh. Needless to say, this story freaked me out, especially since I live less than a mile from this location. So that's the end. Stay sexy and don't bury your friends alive because they will come back to haunt you. Max.

Friends. The use of the word friend is what the murderers or like what the yeah I guess murderers technically decided to color it as when it's like I feel like if they were working on railroads they were probably a person of color or a person who at the time their race was undervalued if not like we don't like these people here. That is such a horrifying non-solution. Friends in today's money is a very different thing than friends in 1900, early 1900 money. I mean. Wow. That's a ghost story that tracks. That makes sense.

Yeah. And stopping the train because you think you hit someone is a process. You wouldn't do it if you didn't really think you'd hit someone. Right. You know, it's not just like pulling the fucking emergency brake, it's like a whole thing. Yeah. And they, and that happened three times and there was nobody there.

Oh, I know. Okay, the subject line of this email is, my first and last time I've hitchhiked. Hello, Karen Georgia and MFM fam. My family lives in northern Wisconsin with some of the most beautiful forested parks. In my childhood, we would often visit a campsite for some of the best pizza I've ever had in my life. What? And then in parentheses it says sadly they don't sell pizza anymore after the original owner retired. Like I can't get

over it. You get to go camping and have pizza? That sounds perfect. The life. One beautiful day in summer when my brother, sister, and I were little, my parents thought it'd be a good idea to do some light hiking followed by pizza and the beach. We agreed because we had no other choice. We were going to do the Ice Age Trail thinking it was going to go in a circle around the lake area so my parents didn't even bother with a map. And then in parentheses it says, by the way it doesn't.

The Ice Age Trail extends from northwestern Wisconsin to southeastern Wisconsin. About an hour into our hike, it rained on us. Then another hour, it rained again. We had been walking so long it started to get dark. We didn't have a flashlight because we were supposed to be done with our hike and this was the early 2000s so my mom was the only one with a flip phone and no service. They kept promising that the end was just around the corner. Because it was getting dark we found a road and my parents decided to split up. The marriage? My mom would walk with my

brother and sister and my dad and I would run ahead to get the car. We were so turned around that I finally convinced my dad to stop a car around 10 p.m. I remember thinking, if I don't get him to stop a car, we'll be sleeping in a ditch. He finally swallowed his pride. Luckily, my dad recognized the girl who stopped. She told us we were a long walk from where our car was because we had been walking the opposite way. Oh. After my dad told her he knew her parents, she offered to give us a ride to our car, although she was a bit hesitant.

Yeah. Meanwhile, around the same time, my mom decided to stop at a cabin with its lights on. Oh my God, it's like two horror stories in one. One family, each acting out their own, like, horror movie. Two burly men came to the door. When they saw my mom with two muddy little kids asking for directions, they offered to give her a ride because she was a long way from where our car was parked. Sometime after 10, we all got back to the car safely.

Unfortunately, the kitchen was closed and we ended up eating leftovers at home. Oh, what a fucking day. If I was in that car, I'd be like, you bring us to McDonald's now. Yeah, and then to a fucking hotel. Yes, we all get double french fries. Yeah. To this day, my parents joke about doing another Ice Age trail hike, to which us kids, now adults, always say no. Thank you for reading, SSDGM Sarah Sheher.

Oh my god. That's intense. Wins and I went hiking. We never go hiking. Let's go hiking. Fucking got lost. We were supposed to turn back at a bridge, but we were like, it must go around.

Didn't. Had to walk through a creek. I fucking dipped my leg in the goddamn creek. Cookie was with us. It was a mess. And that was like an hour. So I can't imagine this. This sounds terrible.

Just keeping on. That thing, I think we've covered stories like this where people get lost, and they keep going because they're like, it's just around this bend. That's exactly what we were doing. Yeah. Because we were like, going back is going to take so much longer than, like, it's just around this bend. That's exactly what we were doing. Yeah. Because we were like, going back is going to take so much longer than, look, it's just there.

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Go to EmbarkVet.com to get free shipping and save $50 with promo code MURDER. Visit EmbarkVet.com and use promo code MURDER to save $50 today. Goodbye! Grandma alleged murderer story. Hey MFM et al. So my grandma Candy was an absolute wild child kind of a gal. My whole life she had been raising orphan wildlife on the south coast of Australia. Candy's side hustle was photographing the animals she was caring for or wild ones living around her home to

sell prints. Getting into it, I should clarify that I heard this story when I was around eight years old. Candy was sat at the table deep into a bottle of wine and cheese board describing the following events to a family friend. I mean, talk about my perfect night. Just like and also in Australia, the most wonderful place. Yeah. A woman who owned a gift store in a nearby town had been stocking Candy's animal greeting cards. My grandma loved that store in particular because it sold an excess amount of teddy bears. Every couple of months, Candy would drive an hour and a half out to this other town with a restock of greeting cards. She got to know the woman who ran the store

moderately well, but they never spoke any deeper than small talk. And the small demand for greeting cards grew less and less. Candy had decided she'd do one last trip out there just to drop off the last restock and most likely pack it in after that. She arrived at the store to be greeted by a closed sign. It was uncharacteristic of the other woman to not be there, but Candy thought nothing of it. A few weeks or short months later, she returned again to find the store had permanently closed. Something about this didn't sit right with her.

There had been no sign of the business going under. So she popped her head into the butcher's next door to buy some groceries. This was most definitely a guise to source out the gossip. Always ask the butcher. She questioned the clerk about what was going on with the woman next door. And I can't do an Australian accent. I will embarrass myself.

Just do a sentence and go up at the end. Like a question mark. Didn't you hear? No. Well that is a question. Yeah. Oh didn't you hear? They replied. She's done her husband in with an axe. I cannot confirm or deny if the story is true but I definitely can confirm it sparked my eight-year-old interest in true crime. I distinctly remember hearing the shock and excitement of Candy and her friend discussing the story. This woman ran a store selling teddy bears and gifts and clobbered

her husband across the back of the head with an axe and my grandma knew her. Thank you for reading my big large story. Feel free to crop it as you need, but I just love you to hear a snippet at the wonderful Candy stories. This is a woman who dressed as a Playboy bunny for her 80th birthday and looked damn good. Lots of love, Kat." I mean, if you got it, flaunt it. It doesn't matter how old you are. Dude. That is so hilarious.

God. But also, God. I mean, I think that's part of what we do and why we talk about these topics. It's like it could come from anywhere. Yeah. And you could hear it from anyone. Yeah.

Like, oh, it's a greeting card shop with cute bunnies. That doesn't matter. That's a perfect hiding place. Okay. The subject line of this email is, Uncle Neil keeping it cool. Dear Karen in Georgia, taking your advice here and trying for another time to have an email read on a topic about anything. After hearing the story about Dame Judi Dench by another emailer, which for some reason

made me laugh so hard, calling people emailers, I decided to share my story about my Uncle Neil. Uncle Neil is not my uncle, but the uncle of my best friend in third grade, Megan. Megan and I were growing up in San Mateo, a little south of San Francisco, and her uncle lived somewhat in this area. As she and I were attached at the hip, we would both attend events with the other's family. In third grade, 1988, Megan and I were doing a science project together involving eggs,

our brilliantly named egg-speriment, was trying to hatch some eggs in an incubator. We were invited to Uncle Neil's ranch to hang out, explore, and observe his peacocks and collect some of their eggs. I don't remember it working. Another time that year, shortly after my friend's grandmother died, I was playing at her house while her mom and siblings were cleaning out grandma's things. Uncle Neil totally hung out with us kids and I remember him pushing us up and down the sidewalk in an old office chair. In an old office chair.

Like, if you're a kid, you could fucking use anything. I love that. I love that image. Hilarious. He was tall, quiet, and his messy hair hung over his eyes, but he was a fun uncle. The coolest Uncle Neil interaction was when I was invited to join their family to see the San Francisco Ballet's Nutcracker. My mom took me to the mall to pick out a special new dress. The dress I picked out was black velvet on top and purple with huge black polka dots on the short puffy bottom. So 1988. I think that's my prom dress except for I did navy with white and navy polka dots. Yeah, I definitely had a white black and white polka dot with black velvet like as a power girl. And it's like kind of tight on the top and then ballet at the bottom.

What a time. The excitement continued when none other than Uncle Neil or Neil Young to the fans. I knew it! I guessed that. Oh my God. Oh my God. Drove up my cul-de-sac in a limousine to pick me up for the show. Okay, maybe celebrities don't at all live like us, but Neil Young

certainly treated us kids like we were interesting and valued, and that's amazing. I only became a fan of his music when I got a little older, but my mom was pretty jealous of that limo ride. Stay sexy and be cool like Uncle Neil, Kate. Yay, Neil Young story. Neil Young and you know the kids. Uncle Neil. Wow. Love that and you know the kids. Uncle Neil. Wow. Love that. That's a good one.

Love it but also so not surprised. Like I would guess that Neil Young would just be like, yeah, I'm going to go out with these kids and I don't want to hang out in here with you people. I'm going to get high and hang out with kids. You should hear what they say. They say the coolest things. Yeah. And also, I also want to ride in this office chair down the sidewalk.

Now you guys push me in the sidewalk. When do I get my turn? Oh my god, I love that one. I love these, the famous people ones. Famous people ones are great. I mean, truly, even if you're like, the idea that a kid wouldn't know, so the kid's out of context and you get to enjoy a person just differently. Totally. So fun. I love that.

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Masterclass.com slash MFM. Good night. Okay, this is my last one. Treasure dad abandons a holdup. I feel I need to establish my dad as a treasure before telling the story of his brief brush with crime. And there are some bullet points. He drove a cab, then limos, and it said, businessmen, Tom Jones, businessmen, businessmen, businessmen. So Tom Jones, thatmen, businessmen, businessmen.

So Tom Jones, that's another one. Tom Jones, it's amazing. Then planes, recreationally, and traded in his motorcycle for a video camera when his oldest kid was born. He was a military chaplain for years and years, and I wish I could tell his stories about mishaps scattering ashes, which was a chaplain office thing for a while.

But I better not, as I'd never want someone listening to think, that was my Bradley's remains or whatever. Yeah, good. He had a file in his filing cabinet next to report cards and tax filings labeled espionage, which was filled with letters he sent to companies with suggestions on how to improve their products, along with their responses, as well as newspaper clippings where he'd made an appearance. More on that later. He had a large book with a handmade book jacket that was titled Sermon Ideas Volume 2,

which when opened proved to be a collection of Gary Larson's The Farsight Cartoons. HEATHER LAUGHS And then the last one is, He's the Kindest Person I Know. Okay, so here's the story. When he was driving taxis, he had just gotten a sign to fare that was across town. He was on his way when another driver took over the radio feed for the entire fleet of

cabs and dad could hear the driver saying, put the gun down please miss. We're at the corner of blank and blank. So just tell me where you want to go. The dispatch unhelpfully replied, driver, you're hugging the corner of blank and blank, so just tell me where you want to go. The dispatch unhelpfully replied, driver, you're hogging the radio. But my dad realized that the address was right around the corner from him. He arrived in time to see the woman pull the trigger

with the gun pointed at the other driver, but the gun just clicked and didn't fire. The driver took that opportunity to seize the gun. My dad was able to contact the police when he confirmed they were on their way. He asked the driver if he could leave because his fare was waiting again across town. The driver said, okay. And my dad left. Apparently the woman somehow gained the upper hand again and stole the taxi. She had held up a bank, I believe, before the taxi driver.

So this woman holds up a bank and then holds up a fucking taxi driver and steals his taxi. And tries to kill him. Yeah, and this dad does a fucking, like, stop by real quick, let me help moving on. Mm. In the right of the incident in the newspaper, the article mentions, quote,

another taxi driver arrived on scene and contacted police. That was me, my dad says proudly when retelling the story. Then he puts the newspaper clippings back in the espionage folder and reluctantly pulls out tax filings. SSDGM, no name. So if he had stuck around, he probably would have gotten a key to the city or something like that.

Also, who is this fair across town where it's like, no, no, stay here and make sure this is okay. That's why I think she was like, let me tell you what a great person my dad is. And before I tell you this terrible thing he did, that was like, I want a file that says that's beinage. That's cool. Yeah.

Okay, here's my last one. And says, I'll see your maple syrup festival and raise you a grilled cheese and tomato soup festival. Since we're now writing in every random thought we have, I'll throw in my town's grilled cheese and tomato soup festival in response to the maple syrup one in a recent mini-sode. Each November, as the days start to chill and the fall foliage is peaking, Strasburg, Virginia, thank you so much for the pronunciation because it does not look like that at all, holds this classic combo competition. "'Local businesses can compete for the best grilled cheese, best tomato soup, and best

combo and win some pretty decent trophies. Any local business can compete, not just restaurants.'" So we have entries from hardware stores and antique shops too. Yes! Everyone has their own unique spin. Barbecue chips inside the sandwich, gazpacho, grilled cheese, kebabs, dipped in soup, etc. So hungry right now. Locals buy their tickets in a surprisingly anxiety-filled line at the visitor center,

and then in parentheses it says they sell out crazy fast, and then visit the stations all along the main street to taste and judge our favorites. There are also arts, crafts, live music, and generally good times had by all. It's definitely Gilmore Girls' energy, and I look forward to it all year. Though I've written in about murder and other relevant stories, I hope grilled cheese and tomato soup is my MFM claim to fame. And then it says, you're doing amazing work on this planet. Best Sunny. Come on, Sunny. You're doing amazing work. I'm so hungry. That sounds fucking amazing. I'm like ready to live there. Also like it's such a good idea. Yeah. Because it's not hard to make.

Yeah. Everyone can participate. You change a little thing of it and it's fucking different and it's yours and it's amazing. And then it gives everybody an excuse to just eat that for hours. Yeah. It's like I have to keep trying this.

Butter and bread and cheese. Oh my God. Strasburg, Virginia. I don't know. If you're, if you live in around there, why wouldn't you go and get those tickets? Yeah. Yeah. Although if the lines already filled with anxiety and people that are trying to get

those tickets, maybe- Hungry. Yeah. It turns into a Taylor Swift situation where you really have to plan ahead. Tell us your stories at MyFavoriteMurder at Gmail. Thank you guys so much for listening. You tell great stories. You have great taste.

Thanks for participating. And finally, stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie? Ahhhh! to MyFavoriteMurder at gmail.com. And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at MyFavoriteMurder and on Twitter at MyFaveMurder. Goodbye!