My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 57

Episode Date: February 12, 2018

Karen and Georgia cover your hometown stories from Salt Lake City including a kidnapping, haunted ballerina dolls, a hiking date gone wrong, and more.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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Why did I turn my neck like that? The creek. Like a weird robot. Like a Barbie doll. Hello, Georgia. Hello, Karen. Welcome to your own mini-sode. Thank you.

You want? Doesn't have the inflection done, downright? I'm a robot. You know what I mean? Thank you. Hey, thank you. You're the frozen robot. Wait, is there a robot in frozen?

Yeah. Do you know I've never seen frozen? I've never seen frozen. I've never seen Hamilton. What? I don't know. I have not up to date on. Are you from Canada?

There's no robots in frozen. It takes place in some kind of, I can get in Lapland, in historic Lapland, right, Stephen? Why are there robots in frozen? No, I wasn't saying that. Oh. Can we start over? I was turning my head like, I'm an animatronic person and I got my neck stuck. That's what I meant when I was doing that at you.

What does frozen have to do with it? Frozen means I can't move. Oh, you were actually frozen. But I thought you, the voice you were doing was, it sounded like you were cold. You said you were doing a robot voice, but you were going like, I was really, I get it. I get it. Shit.

Why? We have to rehearse. No, that was it. People, that was six hours of hard rehearsal and we fucking nailed it. Five, six, seven, eight. I don't get it. I have an animatronic. I don't understand.

What is happening? Also, I explained to you something that wasn't the explanation. Only in my explanation did I realize that wasn't what happened. And sometimes I don't, I am really gullible in sarcasm. It doesn't land on me correctly. I just believe you. I believe in you. We couldn't be two more different people.

We couldn't be more worthy of a fucking podcast. Someone capture this. Oh, thank God. Steven's here. I'm recording. He's doing it all. He's got the headset. He's got the third mic.

All of that. Cut all of that out. It's fresh, totally confusing, kind of successful, yet aimless, yet somehow, successful, that you, again, successful, that you don't pay for every week. That's right. This is, this is what free podcast sound like. If you listen, if you want this to be professionally, you need to send us, send 999, 995 to P.O. Box.

99.95. Right. And we will do like several takes. Yeah. Send us a self-addressed stamped envelope. We'll send you something. To Battle Creek, Michigan. Listen, this is a mini episode.

So this is why it's, our regular episodes are fucking on it. They're so amazingly precise. Yeah. Not one word misspoken. That's right. But these ones, man. These ones. Willie Nilly.

Willie? Nilly. Mr. Willie Nilly is in the hiz. All right. Should I go first? Sure. You read back your fucking great hometown murders, et cetera. And since we are going to Salt Lake City, a lot of these are Salt Lake City based.

Is that correct, Steven? Yes. I only skimmed. Steven likes to give you guys a shout out before we go there. That's right. Steven likes a theme. Yeah. Salt Lake City themed.

Right. Kind of salty. Yeah. A little. Yeah, that was gross. A little umami. We were talking early because somebody sent us a picture on Twitter of that Carvel cakes are making it to the Midwest and they sent us that picture of the heart-shaped ice cream

cake that looked like it was melting. I remembered how one girl tweeted at me how mad she was that we were eating cake into the mic. I know. It was the funniest fucking angriest response and she, it was just like how my sister would react when she heard it. She's just jealous. That came into my head today of how mad that girl was.

She was right. I tried really hard not to eat it into the microphone, but whatever. I don't even know what I'm doing into this microphone. No. Okay, ready? Yes. Oh God. Let's do that.

That was just for her, the complainer. The subject line of this is B-A-M-F which stands for badass motherfucker, 14 year old, S-S-D-G-M'd, I baby sought for a murderer and a jailhouse ghost. So there's three stories in one. Okay. Karen, Georgia, Steven, etc. My hometown is a small-ish Southeast Idaho town where you'll probably never do a show. I like that.

I was like, come here, come here. She's just like, you know, you're never going to come. I've already given up. I'm just going to send you this email. But the nearest city is Salt Lake. So go ahead and group this in with them. Producing this email for you. Well done.

The same week in Elizabeth Smart was kidnapped, parentheses, the event that turned me into a true crime lover slash murderer. Another 14-year-old girl was kidnapped in my hometown. That poor girl. She's like, fuck, man. Yeah. She and her sister, this is horrible, she and her sister were sleeping on their trampoline when the oldest was taken at gunpoint.

Oh my God. The one time your mom lets you sleep on the trampoline. I know. It's like that it breaks, that sets the scene for like a perfect summertime night fun. Because I immediately can hear them begging their mom for hours, please let us sleep on the trampoline. And finally, the mom is like, OK, but only if you do your homework. Exactly.

Oh no. It's so evil. But it ends well. But it's very bad in the middle. OK. I don't have to say that. We all know that. OK, so no one knew she was missing until the next morning when the other sister woke up

alone. Horrifying. The kidnapper had taken her to his apartment, raped her and left her handcuffed to his bed. Then he left for work. While he was gone, she used a fire extinguisher to smash the handcuffs, wrapped herself in a sheet, took a piece of his mail to show where she was and the guy's name and got the F out of there and called her dad's office. Dude.

Her kidnapper led police on a high speed chase which ended with him shooting himself in the head. My mom was a prosecutor on the case and told me the details at the time to drive home the point that the guy would have killed her, but she got herself out of there. Between that kidnapping and Elizabeth smarts, I was terrified and slept on the floor of my parents' bedroom for the rest of the summer as you do. A couple years before that, I babysat for a family with a giant super hairy, super old, super blind and deaf dog that spent the night bumping into me and knocking me over.

He was sweet. The couple gave me weird vibes and the dad was drunk when he drove me home, so that's the only night I ever babysat for them. A few months later, the dad murdered his wife by running her over a few times with the car. Oh my God. And finally, my badass prosecutor mom was alone at her office working late one night. The prosecutor's office are in what used to be the county jail, but a new jail was built and someone decided it would be a good idea to convert the old jail into offices for the

people who send them there. So she's alone, it's late and a rubber band flies across the room with her. And then another one did. And then she booked it out of there. Her late nights and hard work over the years paid off and she's been killing it as a judge for the last six years. Oh, yes, lady. Love you guys.

Love the show. Love the Elvis Meows, SSDGM, Mackenzie. Rubber bands just out of nowhere with Dennis the Menace was hiding in the office. A little ghost Dennis the Menace. What the fuck? How creepy that you're there writing on a legal pad all involved. And then a little fucking. You only have that one lawyer's lamp on, yeah, that's how lawyers do it at their desk.

Cheap green Tiffany. One or very expensive. Okay. Yeah. And then you're writing, writing, writing. Rubber band lands. Ding. Ding.

It hits you in the cheek. What? I don't like it. I want more. I need more. All right. How quiet. How quiet was that room between the first and second rubber band?

How how loud was her heartbeat? Yeah. Okay. I hate it. I'm going to be in six weeks of separation. Georgia, Karen, Steven and all four babies far and wide. Now they're doing it to make me mad. Throw this away.

Love the show so hard I could cry. You make depression fun. Hey. Wow. You put the phone back in depression. Back in January 2007 when my space was a dwindling thing, a man who called himself Joe Smith sent me a message. We chatted for a few weeks and eventually met up for lunch.

Safe. That's a safe meeting. Sure. When we met, I gave him shit about his name because in the Mormon church, the first prophet had that same name. He showed me his driver's license, but covered up his first and last name and said, you'll never know my full name because I'm a prominent man in my community. Okay, weirdo.

We started a sexual relationship that evening that lasted a couple of weeks. That's such a great way of saying, we met and we fucked. Yeah. We hooked it up right away. Immediately. But it lasted a couple of weeks. And that time he told me he had cancer and was in the process of finalizing everything for his family.

When he stopped calling, I assumed he'd died. Let me preface this next part with, I don't watch the news, so I had no idea anything had happened in the seven years that followed. My assumption that it was that he was dead. Fast forward April, 2014, I'm watching TV on a Sunday night and a commercial for what was going to be the news pops up and lo and behold, there's quote, Joe on the television and shackles and prison garb, but they're using the name Martin McNeil. I recognize that jacket.

Oh wait, I recognize that jacked up cowlick on the back of his head before I completely recognized his face. That evening was filled with the hell of finding out. His name was Martin Joseph McNeil and he'd murdered his wife six weeks after the last time I'd seen him. Oh no. Jebus H. Christ. It still gives me the shivers knowing how close the call was.

I can't wait to see you two in Salt Lake City, stay sexy, don't get murdered and have enough self-respect to not sleep with married people. Jennifer. Oh, Jennifer. Jennifer was a time in her life where she didn't care. Jennifer, you know, sometimes, sometimes you make these decisions. 2007 was rough for all of us. I mean, I can't even remember.

I really, it was a dark time. It was a rough year for me. But that's the kind of thing. I like that, I like that statement only because I think sometimes as a young woman, when you feel, when you feel strong and empowered, you're like, well, I get to do what I want. Yeah. And if somebody likes me, that's the other person's problem. It doesn't affect me badly.

He's the person, he's the person who should feel bad or she should feel bad, not me. When in fact. Yeah. It's about you not liking yourself. And also just, it connects you to a person indelibly. It connects you to a negative, such a negative action that someday you'll understand and feel bad about. Yeah.

Maybe. Yeah. I mean, no judgments. All judgments. But stop it. But all judgments. But seriously, keep your shit together because you've got, you've got to keep your side of the street clean.

They'll become murderers. You don't want that business following you around. Fuck. That's crazy. Thank you, Jennifer. Thanks, Jennifer. I really learned something and I'm going to break up with him. Just kidding.

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Follow Even The Rich wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. This the subject line is buried in the wall. Oh, good. God damn, I love this. I really the other day someone on Twitter, I'm sorry, can't remember your name, sent me a picture in and you a picture of that sinkhole that opened up in Texas and underneath it was that huge cave.

No. Did you look at that? Amazing. And I was like, what a glorious time in my life that people are sending me pictures of things and telling me stories about things that I adore. Totally. So sinkholes. Yes.

Shit in walls. Yes. Giants. You love giants. Oh God, I love giants. Okay. Ladies, just heard the podcast about wanting to see what's buried in walls. Boy, do I have a story.

It was about 22 years ago, so I'd forgotten about it until you guys jogged my memory. I used to work with two sisters that rented a small house in a pretty quiet area here in Salt Lake City, Utah, Utah. Both girls had issues with items in their house constantly being moved to a new spot in the house. No. That happens to me all the time, but it's me. One of the sisters had a small collection of these tiny ballerinas made out of porcelain,

maybe one to two inches tall. Oh man. She'd wake up some mornings and the whole collection was scattered throughout the room and sometimes all the way to the kitchen. What? Oh my God, I can't stop smiling. Stop smiling. I'm so scared.

You're smiling so big right now. They constantly mentioned the house being haunted, but they weren't scared because the ghost felt friendly and childlike. That's not a thing. They lived there for almost a year before they discovered there was a hidden room in the basement. Oh no. Oh no.

I've seen this with my own eyes and it was so easy to miss. In the basement, there was a room entirely made of concrete on the furthest wall from the entrance, there was a concrete section that stuck out and from every angle, it just looked like it was the end of the room until you go right up next to it. You can see it's a crawl space to a room behind the concrete wall. When you crawl back there, there's a space about eight by 10 feet and maybe four feet tall. So you are squashed in.

There's no standing up. Here it comes with a flashlight in hand. If you laid on your side facing the backside of the concrete wall, it sounds kind of like a very tall coffin. Can I just walk in? Ooh. Tall coffin. Okay.

So if you laid your hand, oh sorry, laid on your side, if you said, yes, three times and then turned around and turned around, 9.95 to Battle Creek, Michigan, I lost it again. Sorry, it's my fault. If you put this flashlight, laid on your side, facing the backside of the concrete wall, the cement had chipped away and had exposed the front part of a ballerina shoe that could fit maybe an eight year old and what looked like thin pink ribbons that would have been on a barrette or a headband. After making the discovery, they contacted the landlord and made the decision to move

since the lease was almost up. Prior to them moving, they'd show it to people who came over for parties. Wait, I'm confused. So shit was just hidden in the crawl space? It looked like in the cement of what that room was. Am I right, Steven? Hidden in the cement? Yeah, it was chipped away and just like a little slipper was like ballerina.

Someone had taken one of her ballerinas and put it into the cement or was it in the cement, cooked into the cement? Like the shoe seemed like it was cooked into the cement. Cooked in. Cooked in like a king cake baby. Explain my face right now. Georgia is staring at me with her mouth open and squinty eyes and scared face, but then she changed it again to a happy birthday face.

That's the happy birthday face. Okay, wait, there's a little bit more. Yeah, but I would also love to, I want to see this. No, 100%. I mean, also because it'd be easier than having to explain it. The image is of, of course, a creepy man laying inside of there and with his weird long finger nail picking away at the cement until it. Why can't it be a ghost that did it, a baby ghost?

Because you don't believe in ghosts. All right. I believe in creepy men. You do. You really do. And you've always been so supportive. Okay. So prior to them moving, they'd show the house to people that came over for parties.

I saw it once and never stepped foot back into that house. I never found out if the landlord did anything at the time. We didn't have the means to research these things like we do now. I understand. I cannot remember the address to this fucking place. Otherwise. Oh, there was no fucking there. I just said that.

I cannot remember the address to this place. Otherwise I'd be there right now trying to sleuth up some answers. Fucking creepy, very sad at the same time. SSDGM, keep being the amazing and good time people that you are. Good time people. Good time people. Carrie. Yep.

Haha. I think it was a ghost. I don't think she was insinuating it was a person or it was the landlord. Okay. I think someone lived in the cement box, but they didn't say they found like a, if they said they found like a, you know, what are they called sleeping bag and like tin cans of beans? I don't know.

He's a hobo, clearly. But what if he's a very tidy hobo? Yeah. Cleaned his shit up. Every time. Got out. Carried it with him. But then, then why would, but he scattered shit everywhere.

Well, I think it was a ghost because they never heard anyone walking through the house. Yeah, but he could have been very light on his feet. You're giving him a lot of fucking credit. Remember the Spider-Man of, uh, of Colorado? The Spider-Man of, was he Denver or was he, yeah. When he hid the weird guy that hid up in the attic for years and years and years, it can be done. All right.

Um, it's just that. You should do it. Just approved me wrong. I'm going to go live in the walls of my house right now. We stopped here and stopped talking to us. Two years later, we realized she was just trying to prove a fucking point. And you're like, oh man, you really got me on this one. Yeah.

You were right. But what are you burying that cement besides a belly shoe and is there a child in the cement? Yes. Maybe it was a little kid who had been married in the cement and had lived there and just trying to point itself out. Is what I'm saying. That's not what you said. You said it was a-

I'm hobo. But I want to piggyback on your theory and then say I said it. I said it. Is what I'm saying. Fuck. What a fucked up story that was. There's another one. Ready for another fucking story?

Yes. That's what we're doing. That's why we're here. We don't even want to know numbers. We don't fucked up stories. Please. Everyone's like, I have this weird story. This is where to do it now.

Yeah. We talk to people all the time. We're like, oh, I got worried about it. Just deliver the weird story and we'll tell you if it's good or not. Right. We'll yell at you. Yeah. Hey.

Hello, MFM fan. This is called Angels Slash Aliens. Big difference. Okay. All right. Hello, MFM family. This isn't a murder story, not even a crime, but I think it bears telling. Okay.

I'm from Salt Lake City about 15 years ago. I went with some friends to a quote singles dance where I met a guy. Don't laugh. I was young. No. Singles dance. We talked and danced but parted without exchanging information and I was bummed. I remember that kind of thing happening.

About two weeks later at another singles dance that I might have only gone to in hopes of seeing him again. I did in fact see him again. This time he immediately got my number. Aw, cute, right? Well, we'll see. Yeah. Cut to a few weeks later and we'd been talking on the phone regularly and gone out a couple

times. He seemed pretty cool and I enjoyed his company. Around the third date, he invited me out to Black Rock on the Great Salt Lake to watch the sunset. I thought this seemed pretty romantic and I was looking forward to it. Uh-oh. We got there and climbed the rock and sat enjoying the view when he said that he had something he wanted to share with me.

No. No. It's a red flag. In the moment I thought he was going to tell me he loved me, which would have been ridiculous. It was so much worse. Oh no. He told me that his dad had passed away when he was young and since then angels had come to visit him regularly to give him messages from his dad and special gifts.

Cue the ice cold chills as I realized I am in the middle of nowhere with a guy who is obviously crazy. Not wanting to rock the boat, I pretend that I'm totally understanding and empathetic and that this is a totally normal revelation. I must have encouraged him because then he told me that they weren't actually angels but aliens from outer space. I was screaming inside. I continued to play it cool but I was internally freaking out and realized I needed to get

out of here now. So I started to pretend I was getting cold hoping we can leave. He wasn't done. He told me that the aliens had been visiting him in his home for years and that they had given him special healing powers. I have a deep raspy voice due to the fact that I have no vocal cords after a series of surgeries as a baby and he told me that if I believed in him he could heal my voice. I tried to stay calm and told him that I actually really liked my voice because it's unique

and that I wasn't interested in being healed and he got a bit frustrated and tried to convince me to do it but eventually he gave up. Finally we climbed down from the rock and started walking to the car when he said he wanted to show me something and headed toward the trunk. This is the moment I died, literally went through my head as I tried to figure out how to get away. When he opened the trunk and pulled out what he claimed to be a life-size replica of the aliens that visited him, it had been some kind of painted mattress foam head, a long

skinny foam body, complete with a shimmery cape. No. Eventually we got into the car. We had made plans to go bowling but in my cleverness I told him I forgot my socks and needed to stop at my car, back at his house. Bowling socks are very important. Very important. They're key.

No one wants to spend that $5 for a pair of shitty socks and bowling at all. No, not at all. Although those little ones, sometimes you can get those booties with bowling pins and balls on them and then they used to have them at the old All Starlings and they're the cutest bowling socks of all time. I haven't seen them in a long time now. Okay. Buy the socks if they look like that.

Yeah. I love bowling by the way. I do too and every single time I forget my fucking socks. We should bowl more. Why don't we bowl more? We need to. Steven, are you in? I took a bowling class in college.

Oh my God. So, are you one of those people that throw bowls? No. I'm not great. But I enjoy it. Perfect. Yeah. Let's do it.

I love bowling. I love it. I'm terrible at it. Okay. Boop, boop, boop, boop. Okay. This is a very upsetting story to me. It's so sad that this kid clearly needs meds.

It's exactly. This is why we need mental health facilities open for people and people need to. Some people don't think they need it. No, that's true. But it needs to be, you know, when you're first hearing voices, you should know that you should go talk to somebody about hearing voices. Totally. Because I've been in these situations with someone where it's like, oh, this isn't fucking

safe at all. What do I do? Lots of people have been in this situation I think it's good to hear about. Right. Well, here's what she did. I told him I'd only be a minute and I ran to my car, got in, locked the doors and drove off, leaving him standing there looking confused. Yeah.

When I got home, he'd already called a few times. I told my parents what happened. And when he tried calling again, my dad told him I had moved and I never heard from him again. Fucking tell your parents they'll take care of it. Well, loop people in. That's for sure. Until I ran into him years later.

And as soon as we made eye contact, I realized it was him. I turned and walked the other way and didn't say a word. Kelsey. Wow. I know. Because the thing of it is, you on the third date, don't go far away. Yeah. You save that a little while longer.

You think you know someone after hanging out two times. I understand. Yes. You've made out. And also when you, when it's that kind of thing of like the first time you see him, he doesn't ask for your stuff. So the second time you're all stoked and you're almost maybe a little grateful and you got picked.

Yeah. Try a little harder. Yeah. And then there's like, and if there's a romantic over to the third plan, then you want to just go for it. Let's do this thing. And then, but then. But then you're fucking in a lone, in a lone place with the person.

Yes. Is not on his meds. And it's sad because. Don't stop taking your meds everyone. He wanted to tell her. He wanted connection and he wanted, he wanted to tell somebody about it. And that's this, to me, the saddest part is just like, I love that she took care of her business.

Yeah. And it breaks my heart that he didn't have someone to talk to about his situation. Oh man. Man. Do you have another one? Yeah. Listen to this. Okay.

I'm going to really get to sell it. The subject line is Salt Lake City show and more Karen, Georgia, Steven and Fur Babies. I encourage you not to use that introduction. Everyone's going to use it now. You know that right. I have a story to add to the finding stuff in the walls. One comes from the other side, meaning someone who put something there. Oh.

Okay. I like it. Back in the fifties, my grandfather was like most men at the time, a raging alcoholic. Amen. I mean, it was an easier, it was easier to do. Okay. A raging alcoholic, womanizer, smoker, et cetera. I mean, everybody was a smoker in the fifties.

He also was a part-time carpenter. One night he was laying brick at a house and was trying to make some extra money to feed his habit. I'm sure. Very judgmental about alcoholics. Anyway, he was doing what you do when you lay brick. My grandfather was a bricklayer, by the way, Brad, Brad, which was smoke and drink. As a granddaughter of a bricklayer, I would have to agree.

Okay. His drink of choice was whiskey straight out of the bottle. Hell yes. Mine too. I mean, I'm not judging anyone, but just give me a glass. I've told you this already, but the turning point moment in my alcoholic story arc was when I took the bottle down off the refrigerator one morning and took a long swig from it and then thought, I've gone past a point where I can go back.

I love that you knew too. I just knew in my head like this has gotten very bad. Yeah. I just need a vintage glass. Once I stop having a cute vintage glass, then I don't have a problem. Exactly. That's a good, make that finish line for yourself. He eventually got so drunk, he forgot where he had put his bottle and sure as shit, he

had built a wall right over it. By this time, the mortar was curing, but it still crossed his mind that he should rip down that wall to get his whiskey. Oh my God. He didn't do it though. After he stopped drinking, he told me the story, aw, he has long since passed and now whenever I pass that house, I wonder what someone will say when they rip down that wall and find a bottle of whiskey.

Not a haunting story, but funny still, I look forward to seeing you two live in Salt Lake City, Eric. Hey Eric, that was great. Eric, amazing. You really, you really may turn this episode around. Eric, is your last name Kilgarov because I feel like we know each other. Eric Kilgarov? That's a good name.

Eric Kilgarov, maybe put a C on the end. Why not? Change the name. Just for fun. Thanks for listening. I'm going to use this week's Salt Lake and send your, send anything, clearly. Yes. It's from my favorite murder at Gmail.

Communicate with us. Let us know your weird shit, man. We like it. Yeah. Do you have an alien, oh, can I request alien stories? You can. They make me very uncomfortable. Why?

You don't believe in them? Do you think people are crazy if they see them? No. I think it's possible. I think anything is possible. Okay. When I start to entertain that whole like storyline of aliens and the government hiding aliens from us and being here and like sometimes it's that they control us or that we were

being farmed for them and all that kind of shit. This has got dark. It goes into an area that I just start to panic. Area 51. Although I do watch ancient aliens because I think it's one of the best television shows on television. Well, I mean, how are the pyramids made? Like, how were the pyramids made?

Humans didn't just make them. They didn't just carry shit. They've always made everything. They're mathematically, okay, ghost stories then, please. Yeah, all of it. No, you can do aliens. Just don't freak me out. I mean, I believe in aliens, but I don't think any of us have seen them.

So I don't know why I'm requesting that. I think a lot of people have seen them. Don't say that part. Karen, don't say that part. Stephen, make Karen not say that part. Karen, make me someone who wouldn't say shit like that. Make me a better person, Stephen. Stay sexy.

And don't get murdered. Bye. Bye. Elvis. Want cookie? Yeah. Yeah. Do you want me to just break this?

Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Yeah, you can do everything you want. Okay.