My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 67

Episode Date: April 23, 2018

This week’s hometowns include a knife fight at a wedding and a house filled with traysure.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe and downright obsess over true crime and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery, Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music. Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. Hello. Don't laugh at me. Our heads both tilt to the side when we try to introduce these fucking podcasts. My ears on my shoulder. Here's our introductory voices that are unnatural. And this one's for the My Favorite Murder Mini-Sode. And do you know what that means, everybody? Well, we'll tell you it means that this is the episode where we read to you all of your hometown murders, your different stories. There's really a barrage of topics that you can send

into us that we'll accept. Finding money, ghost stories, alien stories, sinkholes. Your grandparents did some crazy shit. Stuff in walls. You found things and they were crazy. Just whatever. Hometown murders. We like those still. We don't mind urban legends if they're entertaining enough to read. Yeah. So shall we begin? Yeah, you go ahead. Do you want me to begin? What's my last one? Why don't you have a good last one? Yes. Okay. I'll start. Okay. Right. One, two, three, four. Okay. Okay. This is called Meanwhile in Riverside. Oh, shit, y'all. Here we go. Hi, Georgia, Karen, Steven, and animals. Long time listener. First time writer. I am an East Coast transplant living in Riverside, California, studying toxicology at the University of California.

Who poisoned? Very cool. Riverside. I didn't see that last word. University of California, Riverside. Because apparently colleges are named based on the city they're in. Who fucking knew? We don't fucking know. College graduates know that. Deans. Yeah, they know. Talking deans. I started listening to your podcast shortly after Eunice SoCal and it helped me adapt to the West Coast. Thank you. Del Taco. That's all I give you. One of my favorite episodes is Never a Man Again in which Karen details the Riverside serial killer that targeted sex workers in the late 80s. Yeah. Since that time, Riverside has seemed to become less crime-ridden and tell lately. Starting in March, we have had a serial masturbator on campus. You see, you know what bad news? I think you've got a bunch of those

on campus. Oh, no. It's a college campus. I bet it's pretty serial for every student there. Oh, no. You know, it's stressful. I get it. Well, UCR being a commuter school, so I guess there's no dorm rooms to actually do it in. Well, I think it just means there are dorms because my school was a commuter school. Oh, really? It just means that it's massively huge and a lot of people don't stay there. Got it. Okay. UCR being a commuter school is a campus surrounded by parking lots. We received campus-wide emails about crime on and near campus and we kept getting emails entitled Lude Act occurred on campus. There have been at least five episodes where a woman will be walking alone in a parking lot. She's approached by a man driving a car. Sometimes he asks for

directions and the woman will notice he is jerking it. All the accounts say it is a white, 20-something man, though the car description changes email to email. The man will then drive away once the woman reacts or runs away. Thank God there have been no abductions. There is an elevated police presence on campus, but we keep getting emails. Well, it's super creepy to have a serial joker on campus. I sort of want to be the one to catch the guy and get his license. Yes, you do. He seems to be escalating because there were two incidences on March 10th about 20 minutes apart from each other and one on yesterday on 416. They occur at different times with the first couple occurring at night, but yesterday the masturbator struck at 1.30 p.m. in the afternoon. He's getting

bold. Yes, maybe it's for the best. Neither of you have spent a lot of time on Riverside. I'm conflicted because these incidences give me and my female peers excitement to theorize if he is someone we know, but I'm now nervous to walk through the parking lot after my late classes. I will continue to stay sexy, walk with my camera ready to get the license plate and try to catch a serial joker. Much love and thank you for all you do, Cam. Okay, can I just say this to Cam? Yeah, just off the dome, do not walk in that fucking parking lot after late classes by yourself. Other people leave that class, walk to one person's car, drive to the other person's car, because it is escalating. And as we know, as we've heard all these fucking stories,

it progresses to other things. Well, they get more and more confident because they keep not getting caught. So they say, hey, I did this three times at night. I could do it during the day now and I'm not getting caught. And now the next thing is I want to touch her. It's not enough for her to see me jerking off. Now there needs to be actual contact. That's how all these fucking stories go. I love though, it's so different. Oh, was I right up on it? It's so different. Now, because imagine in the 80s, if there was a serial joker driving around, no cops would ever come and they'd all laugh. And now there's a heightened police presence because they know not to mess around. Yeah. God damn it. The buddy system, you're in college. Kindergarteners know this.

Buddy system, don't mess around. Yeah. Now I'm at it, Cam. Ready? Cam, stick to toxicology. Cam, god damn you. Okay. The subject line of this is knife fight and hero grandfathers at a wedding in India. Grandfather stuff. Love it. Dear ladies, Steven and pets. I love it. My name is Bargav. I love your work and I've gone back and listened to all your episodes. I was also at your Dallas show and I loved every second of it. Anyway, here's my attempt to add the first story from India to your mini shows. Oh my god. That's exciting. Cue the Bollywood music. Dance number. Love it. When I was in sixth grade in the early nineties, we went to an outdoor wedding in the city of Surat, India. As the wedding had

wound down and most people had left, few of us are staying back to help clean up and gossip. I fucking love that so much. It happens everywhere. We're all culturally the same. That's how we connect. It was, we hate a third person. I was helping in a chair. Oh, sorry. I was sitting in a chair. You're helping in a chair? I was sitting in a chair with my sister, cousins and grandparents as my mother was helping others wind up. Just then two men ran into the wedding area, one chasing the other and carrying a huge knife. Oh my god. When we saw that they were coming directly towards where we were sitting, we all scattered. I started running to the stage as I figured the higher place would be safer without realizing that they were running right at me.

Perfect. All of a sudden, the guy being chased ran into me very hard. Oh no. We both fell and he had me on top to shield him from his attack. What a dick. In sixth, a sixth grader. He grabbed a sixth grader. That's right. A child, a mere child. Six graders are not shields. No, they're baby 12 year olds. This is when I got a clear look at the knife. This is the last thing I actually remember until I woke up with my mom sitting next to me in tears and a crowd around us. I do remember seeing blood spatter on my shoes. My mom and other witnesses filled me in later. After we fell on the ground, my paternal grandfather's brother, that would be your paternal great uncle, got in front, he's in his 60s. He got in front of the attacker to stop him. Oh my god. He still charged ahead,

took a swing and cut the guy under me in his arm. So that's what the blood was. Got it. This is when my paternal grandfather, also in his 60s, grabbed the attacker from behind and swung him around. The attacker then ran away and others chased that guy, the other guy out too. Now, the murder part. Next day, a story with pictures is reported in the newspaper with a guy stabbed to death and my family immediately recognized him as the guy that was being chased. Fuck. So apparently, the attacker waited after running away from the wedding venue when the other guy came out. He stabbed the guy to death in front of many witnesses. What the fuck? Anyway, SSDGM and keep doing what you do. Thank you for your time, Barg off. Barg off, I wanted more info.

What were they stabbing about? I thought it was over a woman or money. And that's why they ended up in a wedding. Yeah. It was all that whole thing of love. Right, that's it. Okay. I have a grandfather one too. Oh, but I'm not going to tell you the name of it. Okay. Okay. It's about finding something out about grandfather. Then I don't want to tell you what. I'm gonna hear it eventually. I know you are. By you. Shit. Am I too far away now? Oh man, who told you? All right. Hello everyone. My great grandpa died when I was a kid and we found out all this crazy shit like 10 years later about his time in the Dutch military. Oh, wait, we're coming to Amsterdam. Don't be afraid to buy those tickets. Here we go. This might actually not. You might hate us. Oh,

this might change it? Well, okay. Let's see. No, it's fine. People love controversy. He and my great-grandmother, yes, he and my great-grandmother grew up in Holland and left just after World War II. My great-grandmother used to tell us stories about working as a liberator with the Dutch military to release people from concentration camps and how he was captured and put into Auschwitz for it. Fuck. My great-grandmother even gave speeches about her husband's triumphs after he died. We were all crazy proud to have someone who had done that work in our family. Sidebar, my great-grandpa always kind of skewed me out, but I always attributed it to being seven and him being old and old people make me nervous anyway. Fast forward to 2013. The Dutch government releases

a list of all caps. Dutch Nazi collaborators. No. And my fucking great-grandpa was on the list. Before this, it was assumed that there were no Dutch citizens who worked for the Nazis. Alas, nope. Turns out everything he and my great-grandma had told us was bullshit. Oh, no. This rat bastard had signed up for the SS not once, but fucking twice. No. Turns out he was a mechanic for the Nazis. He managed to avoid repercussions for it by moving to Canada and lied about it for the rest of his life. Then we found out my great-grandma knew everything and lied about it until the day she died. My dad even went to Holland to check the archive records to make sure it was true. There's a whole document with his official signature on everything. Turns out great-grandpa

was a total dick. Also, when my great-grandma died, we found her original copy of Mein Kampf. Oh, girl. Shit, had gold pages. Gold fucking pages. Barf. That's what this person wrote. Thanks for always making awesome episodes. They make my days as a substitute teacher so much better. Don't worry. I only listen to them when the kids aren't in the room. I've gotten my mom and one of my siblings into MFM now, too, and my dad hates when we talk about our, quote, murder shows. Stay sexy and don't collaborate with Nazis. Maddie. Yes. That's so disappointing. Hey, here's my, here's, I have an argument as a Jew. Okay. I wonder some, I know that a lot you had to, it's like they were going to kill your whole family. Yes. You know, unless you were like,

yeah, I'll be a mechanic, but I don't believe, and I'll sign up for the SS twice. Not I have a harder time. Well, especially if you didn't have to. Yeah. Never mind. I think, well, I, but I, that logic holds up for people in Germany because it did take over the entire German country. But if nobody else is collaborating except for this one asshole, I think we can call him an asshole. Because Olive Holland is like, yeah, no, we fought. They're like, no, no, no, no, you don't have to, you don't have to. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. He's a dick. That's cool. But goddamn. Like what? Yeah. It's good to keep. A gold original fucking Mein Kampf copy. Can't argue with the fucking shitty Nazi propaganda. You cannot see. Well, I think down there's the light in our eyes. Okay. Well, this

kind of relate, this goes along with. Okay. And the subject line is finally something to email you about. Hey, Karen, Georgia, Steven and pets. So period. I am listening to your podcast pretty much from the other side of the world. Oh, thinking about how it is a bit of a bummer that I would never have anything to add. When out of the blue in many so 66, someone mentioned cocaine bathtubs. Oh my God. I know something about these. Hopefully the people passing in their cars didn't think I was having a fit or something, given the random excited arm gesture. Okay, so my mother-in-law is awesome, but at times can be a little naive. A while ago, when she was in her 50s, she traveled around Europe and while staying in Venice, I want to go to Venice so bad. Let's go. I just had a wave

that made me. You got so sad. I just saw this wave wash over you of like, will I ever get a fit? Yes, the summer. Okay, I would like to go. I love that you're like, yes, we'll go like the most romantic city in the world. Because if you don't even want to go with me after going to Europe, I would love to go to Venice with you and your husband. We're there. Steven, Vince, we're there. We're there. We're all, you know, I love that you're going to make it happen for me. Let's meet under the bridge of size. Okay. Well, staying in Venice, she got a job at a We Flourish shop. Where are you from? A We Flourish shop that seemed to get most of his business from ornate vases. Apparently, it was the best job ever. And the super friendly businessman

owners would buy her coffees and treat her to lunch and meals out of the flashiest restaurants. Amazing. Sign me up. Right? This is the job I always wanted in my 20s, where I'm like, there's people that get paid a ton of money to do like, like to eat lunch and stuff. I just know it. Like I had all these theories in my head. Right. People with great jobs. Look at us now. Her job was simple, create the customers. And once they had emerged from out of the back, she would wrap their chosen vases ready for the shipping. Oh my God. All these men love vases. I wouldn't have questioned it. Well, why would you? I'm naive like that too. I feel like it's the thing where if somebody actually buys a storefront

and sets up a fake store, it's really easy to be like, who would go to all this? But I'd also be like, okay, well, maybe it's shady because these vases are like imported illegally. Right. But I wouldn't be like cocaine vases. It wouldn't be the first thing that popped into my mind. Then one day she turned up for work and the shop was shut with was shut with Italian police swarming everywhere. Turns out the vases had a little something extra special in them. And the florist business was just a front for the Italian Mafia's cocaine trade. Hey, girl in Venice no less. You do tons of coke and then just like take a gondola. Look at sites and shit. Just stare at things. What did I couldn't eat all the pasta? No, you could. Well, it's that

good. Okay. You could be blazing on coke and you'll still eat it. I just want carbs. Yeah, that's all you can eat. That's why I can't do drugs like that. I just want to eat. Yeah. You get to Italy and then you you're given a like a subway punch card. I also don't want to do coke. I just remember that. Yeah, that's that's another part of it. But it's less than because when you get your punch card, that's all the times you have to be eat spaghetti and gelato. Okay. In like one sitting. Okay, great. Minimum 12. I like that you weren't into this bit that you were like, I want to bail halfway through. I don't care about your subway punch card concept. She was never arrested. Oh, that's good news. And anything but or anything. But to this day,

whenever she travels, she gets the full customs treatment. We're pretty sure she's on some in her poll list. Stay sexy and don't go to work for the Italian mafia Anita. That's amazing. Amazing Anita. Please high five your mom for us. Seriously. Looking for a better cooking routine with meal planning, shopping and prepping handled. Hello, fresh has you covered. Hello, fresh makes home cooking easy and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. Hello, fresh meals are convenient, seasonal and delicious. Stay cozy all winter long with classic comfort foods available weekly. Why stop with just dinner? Now you can enjoy Hello, fresh's expanded menu of quick lunch solutions weekend brunch, simple side dishes and amazing

desserts. Karen January is going to be my month for Hello, fresh. I am so sick of takeout. I miss cooking so much. I haven't lifted a knife or a pan since like early fall. So I can't wait to get back in the kitchen and Hello, fresh makes it so easy and also makes it so that my food tastes good, which is hard to do on my own. It gives you everything, everything you need. So get up to 20 free meals with purchase plus free shipping on your first box at hello fresh.ca slash murder 20 with code murder 20. That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to hello fresh.ca slash murder 20 and use code murder 20. Goodbye. What makes a person a murderer? Are they born to kill or are they made to kill? I'm Candice

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in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. I have a cocaine bathtub one. Get in here. All right, I'll go. Okay, I'm gonna go last. Great. All right, cocaine bathtub. Hi Karen, Georgia and Stephen. Oh, doesn't care about the psychopaths. I had to share, even though this has nothing to do with murder, the Minnesota's pause because I burst out laughing at the mention of a quote, cocaine bathtub, which then prompted me to tell you this. When my mother was a young hippie babe in the 70s, she lived in a commune in Toronto filled with a whole lot of randoms, including draft dodgers. Wow. I love another. I love that mother and cocaine bathtub. They're like the only one of these draft dodgers was a dude named Ricky.

Ricky was a sweet guy that liked to party. One evening, my mom's upstairs taking a bath and calls down to her boyfriend to come upstairs. Set up her boyfriend in walks Ricky with a mirror full of lines of coke. Frankie, what's this about? Fast forward a couple decades. I'm now old enough to drink. Sitting on the porch, a few bottles of wine in my mom and aunt are telling me stories of which there are many. This cocaine bathtub story pops up. Mom finishes telling it and my aunt jumps in and says, you're not even telling her the best part. Ricky was Rick James. No, I like to pictures Dave Chappelle dressed as Rick James. Oh, Rick James, bitch. With a fucking mirror full of cocaine and a woman in a bathtub.

And then she goes, yeah. So one of my mother's many claims to fame is that Rick James offered her cocaine while she was taking a bath. Really looking to your. It's really nice. Yeah, it is. She said he was really nice. Really looking forward to your Vancouver show in October. Maybe I'll get drunk enough that I'll have the courage to try to share my mother's almost getting murdered story. You guys are the best SS2GM Suzanne. And then she says, PS, I still don't know if she did the coke. Come on. In the 70s, you're lounging in a bathtub. Rick fucking James Watson with a lovely mirror. It's like hand-livered coke on a mirror and you're smiling. Yeah, you're like, absolutely. And he looked down at your mom and was like, Goddamn,

this woman's built like a brick house. Boom. There's that. And she's just letting it all hang out. And the way your slutty mom did in the bathtub, just kidding. That was amazing. That I've never laughed like that before. No, I was like an alarm. I wasn't sure. I'm glad I were doing a third because I wasn't sure. You know what it is when we listen to each other tell these stories or at least when I listen to you tell these stories. I'm just trying to guess what the thing is. I'm trying to guess what you're going to say. What's it going to be? Okay. Oh yeah, I didn't tell you that. The story was called My Grandfather. We found out that grandpa's a Nazi. Yeah, you're just searching for like what's the reveal. But like a celebrity cocaine bathtub

reveal is just not what I thought we were doing. Also, she took that cocaine and bathtub like literally reinterpreted it. Which is like do it. Please. Rick James, especially Rick James. Let's all have Rick James stories now. Definitely any I ran into a Rick James, please God. A Rick James, the Rick James. Yeah, or if your name was Rick James and growing up people sang Brick House at you to the point where you wanted to stab your eyes out. I get it. Georgia on my mind. Have you ever heard that song? Yes, I fucking heard that song. Obviously I've heard that song. Every drunk man in a fucking bar old man who's ever I tell them that my name is. Have you ever heard the song? Immediately they kick into don't know. Yeah, it's really charming. It is

such a good song. I kind of love it. Yes, that's fine. All right. I don't know why all of a sudden on this this episode, I don't know how to be near a microphone anymore. I got super close to at the beginning that I was way back off of it. Steven's clearly in a panic, but he can't stop smiling. Okay, here's the last story. And the subject line is when I was in a cult, we lived in a former crack house with random hidden treasures. Oh my God, read this to me slowly. And it just says salutations. I grew up really poor primarily because my parents were part of a very restrictive quote religious organization, aka apocalyptic cult. Oh, honey. And while they didn't make us all live in a compound, they did dictate when my father could work. No Saturday work. And my mom was

supposed to be the stepford wife. No work at all. Fuck that. My dad was in construction and money was tight. This resulted in our family living in some pretty interesting houses. But by far, the former crack house was the best. My parents didn't announce that the house was a former crack house. But as I got older, I put two and two together. Not only was there tons of furniture and other belongings everywhere in the house when we moved in, it also had tons of children's stuff and polaroids of children labeled black male picture. What? Uh huh. There's a child finding these pictures. What the fuck? I wanted to leave this next detail out, but my husband insists that it be told. Absolutely. You married the right man. Yes. And he and he's the right man for us.

Yeah, that's what matters. That's what we meant. That's all that matters. In the hallway, someone had knocked a hole in the wall and that hole was full of used hypodermic needles. Uh huh. My dad patched it up and we went about our lives. Someday we're gonna get out. That's what we found in the wall story. That's gonna be hypodermic needles. Yeah. And it's gonna, we have, then we'll have to come right back to this episode. Okay. Uh uh uh. It's kind of like the shaving razors in the wall, but more disgusting. Yeah. I've always wondered if anyone ever discovered them. Anyway, that's weird. That's two. Same's ease. Anyway, in the backyard, there was a shed that was filled with porn mags and strangely beautiful antiques. What? I mean, which one's the other?

Who can say? I have two passions in this life. Filthy porn and old lamps. Uh, we were only renting this crack den. So my mom said we weren't supposed to throw anything away and that we couldn't go out there. But I thought it was hilarious to have all that porn and regularly gotten trouble for bringing friends over to partake in the fun. Fuck yeah. Yeah. You gotta look at that porn. Whoops. After a couple of years living there, we discovered that the strip of green shag carpet in my brother's closet came up to reveal an outline on the floor. We lifted it up and found a room dug out in the crawl space. We were too freaked out to explore down there anymore. So we threw a bunch of toys and stuff in it and never spoke of it again. I love it.

They put stuff on top of it. Yep. I love this family. They're all about denial and sublimating everything. Cover it up. Just cover things up. Cover it up. Cover things up. Patch it. Seal it. Someone else's problem in the future. Someone else's hometown in the future. Throw some drywall up over it. Nail it on. Oh, man. Okay. By accident one day, I discovered that the broken AC window unit in my room was filled with old newspapers and JFK half dollars. What? That's nuts though. That's cool. Money in the air conditioning. See, because people on drugs get real nuts and then they're like, I have to hide this and they hide it and then they don't remember where they put it or why. And they think someone stole it and then

they kill someone because they think they stole their shit and then they realize they just hid it in the fucking AC unit. It's just in the AC unit. Oh, shit. I killed fucking whatever. My best friend. Okay. We lived there over five years and every year we would find more and more stuff buried in the backyard. Dude. Fuck. Mostly kitchen items like wooden spoons. What? I gotta hide these wooden spoons. The government's coming for my spoons. But also the occasional antique China. I never made it into the attic primarily because of rats. Jesus Christ. But also because I could see into it from the garage unit via giant holes in the ceiling and it did not look structurally sound. But I bet there was some cool stuff up there. Eventually my parents left the cult. We

moved. But before we did, I made sure to hide stuff around the house before we left for some other kids to hopefully find. Oh, no. In addition to the crack treasures, whenever I'm in town, I check to see if it's up for rent or sale in case there's a chance we do to do a walkthrough. Oh my God. Fun fact. When we moved into the next place, my sister, oh my God, this is full circle. This is insane. Oh my God. When we moved into the next place, my sister promptly found a Nazi coin in one of the closets. Sincerely yours, Ginger. What? It's all fucking happening. We're all connected. It's all crapening. Guys, what an amazing slew. Have fun. Good picks. Good picks, Stephen. Now you know what kind of stuff to send us. Can you do better than that? Do better than that. Try to

beat the fuck in Italian cocaine based story. Try it and send it to my favorite murder at Gmail. And stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Bye. Elvis, you want a cookie? I think he said not right now. I'm full.