Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 513 - The Dark Strangler: Serial Killer Earle Nelson

Episode Date: June 29, 2026

For at least sixteen months in the 1920s, Earle Nelson terrorized North America, murdering at least twenty-two women while drifting from city to city under false identities. Known as the Gorilla Man and the Dark Strangler, Nelson was a deeply disturbed sexual predator whose life was marked by childhood tragedy, mental illness, brain injury, prison sentences, and multiple escapes from psychiatric institutions. This is an especially wild one.  Merch and more: www.badmagicproductions.com  Timesuck Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89v Want to join the Cult of the Curious PrivateFacebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" to locate whatever happens to be our most current page :) For all merch-related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste) Please rate and subscribe on Apple Podcasts and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcast Wanna become a Space Lizard? Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcast. Sign up through Patreon, and for $5 a month, you get access to the entire Secret Suck catalog (295 episodes) PLUS the entire catalog of Timesuck, AD FREE. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

There is something special about the California Bay Area. There are a lot of things that are special about it, actually. It's a long ago, one of my favorite parts to the U.S., but the thing I'm going to share today is maybe not what you're thinking. It's not the iconic Golden Gate Bridge. It's not the breathtaking natural beauty that many don't realize still exist there when they only think of a big densely populated city. It's not the world-renowned universities, including Stanford and UC Berkeley.

It's not even rice or rony the San Francisco treat, which was at least in the running to be my favorite side dish. back when I was a kid and had just learned how to make boxed food meals for myself. It's not the long history of amazing music, or the area being the epicenter of America's late 1960s counterculture revolution or all the cults that either got their start in that area or at least first really gained momentum there. It's how many fucking serial killers have come from the Bay Area?

Holy shit. If the Bay Area was its own state, it would be tied with Michigan and New Jersey for 12th place in the Who has had the most known. serial killers American state competition. California overall would still be in first place, by the way, even without the Bay Area numbers. To be fair, California is also America's most populous state with almost 8 million more people

than Texas and almost twice as many people as Florida, which has the third most. Still, there does seem to be something about the West Coast that has long attracted serial killers, especially sexually motivated ones. Maybe it's the weather, the beaches. All those beautiful California girls. The Bay Area has been home to at least 24 known serial killers with the three most infamous being former suck subjects, Richard the Knight Stoker Ramirez, the still unknown Zodiac Killer, and Joseph James Golden State Killer DeAngelo. Today I will be introducing you to a Bay Area serial killer whose known victim count is actually higher than all three of those other much more currently infamous killers. He was a rapist, a necrophile, who killed at least 20 women across multiple.

U.S. states and another woman and a girl in Canada. Earl Nelson, the gorilla man, the gorilla killer, the dark strangler on another true crime, serial killing, and since he killed quite a while back, historical edition of TimeSuck. This is Michael McDonald, and you're listening to TimeSuck. You're listening to Time Suck. Happy Monday. Welcome and welcome back to The Cult of the Curious. I'm Dan Cummins. Sometimes sweet sucker, but don't fucking tell anybody.

Internal Affairs Detective, currently investigating a lot of possible serious crimes committed by NYPD Sergeant John Tuff on Cock Rock, and you are listening to Time Suck. Just real quick before we get going, huge thanks to so many of you, truly from the bottom of my heart. For all the kind and personal messages regarding last week's episode on the Stonewall riots, I love you, loving fuckers. Straight, gay, trans, and more.

I prepared myself or I prepared Passants prepared myself for hateful feedback And I'm guessing it will come Or is already out there where I haven't seen it Regarding that episode But that's just the way of the world But damn, the amount of love They came back from such a wide variety of people

From straight Christians, From people who've admittedly struggled with being hateful in the past From queer people all over the world It caught me off guard in the best way Just overwhelming a moment So it just makes me feel helpful for my friends For my chosen family, for my daughter big, big, big,

Hail Nemrod, Hail Lusufina. And now let's Oh, actually, I didn't I didn't do the rest of them. Hail also to her Praise Bo Cangles and Glory to me to Triple M. Oh my goodness. I blew it for this episode.

But seriously, thank you so much. And yeah, we'll have some interesting updates this week and I'm sure next week is definitely next week as well. There's just so many came in. And now let's get fucking dark and weird, you weirdos. It's 1926 in San Francisco. The city is quickly growing two decades out from the devastation of the major 1906 earthquake.

There was a whopping 506,676 people living inside San Francisco's borders in the 1920 senses, and there will be 634,394 people living inside San Francisco by the end of the decade. The city has been averaging nearly 30% growth per decade for six consecutive decades, and before that the growth was even made. more explosive back when it was the local shipping epicenter and then shipping and railroad epicenter for a number of gold boom towns in the area and waves of west coast immigrants. The city has been quickly growing and evolving as it literally always has since before it was incorporated in 1850. More and more sand dunes are being cleared for neighborhoods. More and bigger

buildings are being built downtown. Several of them, hundreds of feet tall now. Cars are starting to take over the trolleys when it comes to being the primary mode of transportation. the city streets. The brand new man-made still-framed rock cliffside that San Francisco's city government ordered for Sutro Heights built to stabilize the bluff after a road widening project, cut into the natural rock face, has been completed. In May of that year, the worst cable car accident to date in the city occurred on a rainy day when a cable car on the California street line slid out of control on the slick track. Horrified onlookers watched as the California street line car hurled down the street toward another cable car and truck.

those around had to leap for safety. The crash made the front page of the San Francisco Bulletin. The article describes the incident by saying, quote, the truck, which was carrying meat, burst into a shower of flesh and bone, adding even more chaos to the scene. Three people were killed, and another 75

were injured in the carnage. And while the citizens of San Francisco were focused on that cable car crash, the gorilla man, the dark strangler. Someone I'm guessing most of you even dedicated true crime fans have never heard of had already killed his first two victims. How is it that a serial killer with monocers like The Gorilla Man in the Dark Strangler? Someone who has more confirmed victims than

the Zodiac Killers 5, the Nightstocker's 13, but really 15, or the Golden State Killer's 13, is not one of America's most infamous true crime cases. It's extra puzzling, considering Nelson is referred to by many sources as the first known serial sex murderer of the 20th century. So who was the gorilla man? A very quick overview before diving. deep into so many strange details. Earl Leonard Nelson was linked to 22 murders that took place in a very short amount of time between February 20th, 1926, and June 10th, 1927.

These murders took place over a large area during that short span of time across multiple U.S. states and the Canadian province of Manitoba. Nelson could move and kill quickly, then leave before the police even knew he was there and do it again. Nelson is also suspected of murdering

an additional seven women in the U.S. between August 25th, 1925 through August 18th, 1926, but there just wasn't enough physical evidence left those crime scenes that could conclusively link Nelson to them, and he would never admit to any of those murders. He would never admit to any murders. And now, now let's dive deep into the Earl Nelson story. It is so crazy, because he was so crazy, like literally.

We'll begin by talking about what we know of Nelson's childhood and life before 1925. We'll go over the known details of the confirmed murders That will take us up to the final trial And go over some, you know, a few details of the unconfirmer murders We'll cover his brief last incarceration And the violent end of Nelson's turbulent violent life And then we'll hop out, talk just a little bit About what mental health care looked like

In the early 1920s when he was in asylums And then we'll wrap it up. Let's get going Shrap on those boots, soldier. We're marching down a time Sunsuk timeline. Earl Nelson was born as Earl Leonard Farrell, May 12th, 1897 in San Francisco, California. Earl was the only child born to James Carlos Farrell

and Francis Fanny Farrell, whose maiden name was Nelson. And yes, he is related to actor and sketch comedian Will Ferrell. Have you really, really looked at Will Ferrell's eyes? If you have, if you paid attention to the rage in a lot of his characters, you'd probably come to the same conclusion I have that the man could kill if he hasn't already I will punch you in the face

if you don't get off the shed now get off the shed get off the shit get off the damn shad I don't actually think they're related they just have a last name that is pronounced the same but it's spelled differently and they're both from California

and that's probably where the similarity ends there in 1895 just two years before Earl was born. A 17-year-old Fannie had married 19-year-old James in Portland, Oregon. James had grown up in Portland where his father, John, worked as a steam engineer, and his mother, Eliza, raised him along with his two sisters, Elizabeth and Fanny. Not Fannie, his wife, Fannie his sister. Somehow there are two Fannies already in the story, so you know it's going to be good.

A little else is known about the little Farrell family. At the time of Earl's birth, the Fannie Nelson family, included Lars, a shipwright, a carpenter, skilled in ship construction and repair, and his wife Mary, Mary stayed home, raising Fannie along with her three brothers, Frank, Willis, who went by Will and Leonard, and his sister Lily, actually Lillian, who went by Lillie.

They were all originally from San Francisco, but had temporarily relocated to Portland before returning to San Francisco. On March 9, 1898, just 10 months after Earl was born, Fannie Nelson would die from untreated syphilis at the age of only 20. since syphilis at that point in time usually took at least a decade to kill you, if not several.

It's possible that Fannie contracted syphilis from her mother during childbirth, which would have been a very unlucky way to start her life, obviously. Another devastating blow to the family happened on October 24, 1898, when now James passed away at the young age of just 22. His parents told the newspaper that James had died of cancer of the brain. The local Portland newspaper, the Oregonian, covered James passing, noting, quote, the death of the young man was peculiarly distressing. Some time ago, he went to San Francisco and was employed on a steamer running between San Francisco and San Blas when he was stricken with the Panama fever.

And that's an island down there in Panama off the coast. The fever settled in his eyes and the sight of both was destroyed. Several weeks ago, he reached home in a very feeble condition. And after suffering intensely, death came to his relief. He was 22 years of age and respected by all who knew him. it doesn't sound like he probably died of cancer but to be fair they knew a lot less about cancer back then the newspaper did not mention his dead wife

surviving son or syphilis which is actually what he likely died of as well despite what the newspaper stated the assertion that james died of syphilis comes from lillian earl's aunt who stated that james c feral's sister told her that a doctor at the hospital where james had died stated that james had also died of syphilis both parents died of syphilis

not something you hear about a lot anymore and I know that this isn't funny but when I jump to what would be similar in 2026 for some reason my mind went to herpes which I do know is not fatal but imagine someone saying that they lost both of their parents to herpes

just made me laugh so much fucking harder that it probably should have after the early death of both of his parents after they both were taken too soon by herpes before he was even 18 months old how'd you lose your parents the herp The herb took them both.

Baby Earl was taken back to San Francisco in late 1998 to be raised by his maternal grandparents who officially changed his last name from Farrell to Nelson. Fortunately, neither of his grandparents seemed to have had herpes, I mean, syphilis. So maybe his mom didn't get it during her birth after all. Maybe she got it very young, tragically young, then gave it to her husband. Maybe he got it, gave it to her. I don't know. Maybe they fucking both got it from their parents.

Maybe just nothing but fucking herpes. No, wait. Actually, they both couldn't have got it from their parents because the kids grandparents didn't have it. Hmm. Maybe, maybe, I don't know, maybe he just picked up and gave it to her. Maybe just a very aggressive strain. Some crazy Panamanian strain.

Took them both real quick. I don't know. Grandpa Lars Nelson was born in Denmark in 1836. He immigrated to the U.S. in 1861, married to, got married to Mary Jenny Hopkins from Bangor, Maine in 1862. Lars and Jenny had lived in Wisconsin and Iowa before settling in California. Lars and Jenny were both devout Pentecostals who were just, as having an extremely puritanical, very rigid attitude towards sex and sin.

A good attitude to have, I guess, if you really, really don't want to get syphilis. Terrible attitude to have, generally speaking, in any era, if you want to raise sex positive, psychologically, you know, well-balanced kids. The rest of the Nelson children, Burle's aunts and uncles, still living in their parents' house, a 1900 San Francisco's census listed Lars and Jenny as living in 2696 Folsom Street. Oh, fuck yeah, bro. along with her eldest son Frank, a tinner who was approaching 40 years of age but still single and living with his parents who had maybe broken his will with all their hellfire and brimstone talk. Then there was Willis, aka Will, a butcher, who was approaching 30 years of age and also still single and living with his parents. Sensing a pattern here. That shit was somewhat common back then for female children who had much fewer job opportunities and needed to get married to leave the house off in time.

very uncommon back then in a booming city with plenty of job opportunities and cheap rent that would allow a grown man to pretty easily head out on his own married or not wasn't like it is now when so many people in America just cannot sadly afford to strike out on their own very easily you know getting a get in a first home starter home or just even just paying rents fucking brutal in too many markets right now but that was not the case in san Francisco in 1900. That city was exploding, again, with both jobs and homes. The construction of so many homes, many of them affordable to almost anyone with a job. So two boys, one almost 30, the other almost 40, have jobs, have remained single, though, and still live at home with strict

hardcore fundamentalist parents. That's not like the start of a Texas chainsaw massacre type movie. And a third grown man child, also doing the same shit. Leonard, a Packer, 27 years of age, also still single Jesus Christ Also still living with his parents These people are the unfuckables Then there was Lillian A.k.a. Lily 18 years old

Also single. Also still at home. And that was actually pretty old For a young woman back then To at least not be engaged. Why wouldn't anyone fuck these people? Was it their puritanical religion? Some other reason.

Earl moved in with these people before he turned two When he was also single. Can you imagine that? Earl also single two years old. also living a home. Jumping ahead to the fall of 1904.

Little Earl started his very short formal schooling career at the age of seven. He attended the Agassi Primary School near his home, but then got expelled for bad behavior sometime that same year. Around the time he was expelled, maybe an emotional reaction to this is what led to his expulsion. His grandpa Lars, but really the only dad he had ever known, died. December 13th, 1904, when Earl, just seven.

Fuck. both parents and Grandpa slash New Dad dead by the time he's seven That is brutal And that same year Earl would get very very ill with the measles And nearly die himself

As far as everyone is aware Jenny and all the children continue to live in the family home After Lars' death For at least the next two years Everyone's single now No one's married That's weird

Not even remotely normal For that place and time Makes me think again That these people were You know Super odd social lepers March 6th, 1906 Lilian, Lily, moves out at the age of 25

as she marries Luther, Clark, Fabian. She did it! She got that pussy fucked, finally. Her brother Leonard also moved out at the age of 33. He did it! He got that fucking dick, no, he didn't actually do it. No, he, no, wait, no, he moved out of his mom's house and straight into his little sister's house, which seemed sadder. Okay.

Nelson family's entire world was rocked the following month when on April 18th, 1906, the mayor came to their house and said, no one will ever fuck you here ever. Please leave. No. April 18th, 1906, one of the most destructive recorded earthquakes in American history struck. At almost precisely 5.12 a.m. local time, a foreshock occurred. And that foreshock alone, strong enough that it felt widely throughout the bay. Then less than 30 seconds later, the great earthquake began. The epicenter of the 7.9 magnitude earthquake near the city of San Francisco,

where it was near the city and violent shocks, punctuated, strong shaking, which lasted between 45 and 60 seconds. The earthquake was felt as far north as southern Oregon, as far south as Los Angeles, and as far east as central Nevada.

The quake destroyed over four square miles of San Francisco more than 28,000 buildings. The earthquake triggered a massive fire fueled by collapsing structures and exacerbated by the failure of the water system for three days following the quake flames ravaged the city.

And while it has been estimated that around 3,000 people died, the true death toll might even be higher. The property loss amounted to an estimated staggering a $524 million in 1906 equivalent to nearly $20 billion today.

But probably even more than that. The way kind of inflation calculators don't really target, like, you know, certain cities, they're kind of broad spectrum. You know, in San Francisco, the money spends even less now. Anyway, we have a little insight

into how young Earl Nelson fared in the aftermath of the fire. In a brief interview given to the local Winnipeg press following his final rest, he said, oh, and another thing. I remember back to the fire an earthquake in San Francisco.

I was nine years old. I remember crying that morning. I got a crying spell and couldn't get it stopped. It was at our home on 20th Street. I was living with my uncle Will. I remember being out on the street in front of the house.

They told us the town was on fire. And the earthquake had done an awful lot of damage. We went over to the grocery store to get some things to eat and then moved out to Ingleside. The soldiers came along and told us we would have to move as the town was burning down. Little Earl couldn't stop crying. Yeah, I bet not.

That shit had to have been incredibly traumatic and he had already suffered so much trauma. There was a bunch of firsthand accounts of how others reacted out there to this earthquake and the fire. I'll share one more just to give us a little bit more additional context. Mrs. Eleanor Watkins, wife of a San Francisco search, virgin, wrote to family on the East Coast in the days just after the quake, quote,

After the earthquake, the streets were instantly full of throngs of people, many in their night clothes. The effects of the earthquake were in spots, not universal. We saw whole fronts of office buildings and of assembly halls fallen outward. Sometimes the asphalt pavement had heaved up in a hillock, where gas had exploded. She also added, the very poor could pack their possessions in a trunk and drag it with a rope along the pavement for miles. I shall never never. I shall never, forget that sound of dragging trunks all night long. Some of the rich people save their houses. For this one-fourth of the city, which still stands, was one of the richest sections.

Well, that fucking sucks. People are already struggling. And then the universe is like, hey, struggle some more, fuckers. It would appear from various photos available of the destruction. The Nelson family house, which is at the corner of 20th in San Carlos, was spared. But it stood right on the border of destruction. So it might have taken at least some serious damage. uh you know at the very very least their neighbors got fucked uh the nelson's still lucky though comparatively

as some 225 000 people were made homeless even though their house survived the nelson's likely had to stay for at least a while in one of the refugee camps while the damage was assessed earl's two uncle brothers were still living with him it seems uh still single i still live with mom in the aftermath the earthquake which which is really extra tragic even with all the women left widowed and homeless following that earthquake. Those two motherfuckers still couldn't get a date. The hits kept coming as sometime after the earthquake Earl became very sick again. This time he was sick with diphtheria.

Hit him harder than the measles did, as it did a lot of people in the days back before, what are those things called again? Vaccinations, vaccines. Turns out they're pretty important. Earl ended up feeling delirious for around five days. Doctor gave him the antitoxin, but he was already so sick by the time they did

that the next morning he became so ill. they didn't expect him to live. Still is a Hail Mary. He was given a second dose of antitoxin, and then Earl miraculously, just barely pulled through. Deuteria's disease is a disease that has been largely eradicated in the U.S.

thanks to a routine childhood vaccination, but it can and will come back of enough truthers, stop vaccinating their kids, because that's how herd immunity works. It is a highly contagious bacterial infection that remains a major public health issue in developing countries and areas with low immunization rates.

Over 1,200 kids died of diphtheria last year in the world. Over 60% of them from Nigeria, where vaccination rates are incredibly low. This bacterium affects the upper respiratory tract, and less often the skin also produces a toxin that damages the heart and the nerves. The diphtheria toxin causes damage to the respiratory tract and can spread throughout the body. Common symptoms include fever, sore throat, swelling of the neck glands. Kills primarily through suffocation and severe organ damage would sound super not fun. The antitoxin introduces pre-made antibodies into the body to bind with and neutralize circulating diphtheria toxins, preventing them from entering and destroying healthy cells.

But sometimes the antitoxin, not enough. Luckily for Earl, it was in his case, unluckily for a lot of women in the coming decades. Despite Lil Earl, sadly, actually surviving, all things considered, on June 30th, 1907, shortly after Earl's 10th birthday, Grandma Jenny. but really his mom dies at the age of 68. My god! His parents both die before he's two.

He's adopted by his grandparents and then they both die by the time he's 10. He was fucking cursed. Also in 1907, Earl was badly hurt when he was struck by a fucking streetcar. It's unknown if it occurred before or after a grandma's passing

but right around the same time. We know about this incident as his aunt's sister Lillian would testify about it years later during Earl's Winnipeg trial. Lillian said, Earl made a bicycle and went out on the street and he was hit by a street car, which caused a large hole to be knocked about his temple. And he was brought home unconscious, and we had the doctor for him.

And he had concussion of the brain and was out of his head for five or six days, which kept him out of school. He was not allowed to go to school because we had to watch him constantly so he wouldn't jump as a little child would jump. From then on, he always had dreadful headaches and pain in his head. he had had that all his life, which seemed to be getting worse all the time, and he was always complaining of dizziness from it. And that kept getting worse as he grew older, and he would have to go to bed. So dude's parents die.

His fervently, rigid, anti-sex grandparents take him and to raise him. Then after they die, he gets a massive traumatic brain injury, like so many other sexually sadistic serial killers, like former suck subjects, Richard Ramirez, Arthur Shawcross, John Wayne Gasey had during their childhoods. You know, it just fucks up their impulse control, potentially, decision-making, morality. This is all making his future actions

less and less surprising. That blow to the head seemed to have really scrambled his noodle, possibly gave him some serious brain damage, as you will see. Also, did his sister-a-a-aunt say that he made a bicycle? You don't hear about kids making fucking bicycles anymore? I don't. Sounds like something, some shitty drunk dad

would say in a movie. Dad, can I have a bike? Can I make a bike? Swamp's so bad. You make your own bike. Next year, 1908, Uncle Brother Will's. Willis. Willis? Willis?

Will. Who was now 36. Finally got someone else to touch his dick. He married a 29-year-old school teacher named Amy from Santa Maria, California. Well, good for him. They took over the family home, so Will never actually had to move out. And Earl stayed with them, kind of, as they now started their own family for a little while,

maybe here and there, parental unit number three, but actually really four. now parental units for Earl he would also spend time occasionally with his Aunt Lillian's family mostly though he was living on his own now which is I guess you know around 10 years old

he's living on his own on the streets just fucking running around doing God knows what so what was Earl like as a child after being orphaned twice surviving two major illnesses living to the great earthquake being fucking knocked silly by a street car well let's check in with Aunt Lily for that info we'll jump ahead then jump

in time to get it. Seven years later, 1915, Luther Fabian initiated divorce proceedings against Lillian for habitual intemperance, which was really code back then for she was drunk all the time. And his divorce request was granted the next year in 1916. However, some kind of reconciliation subsequently took place, and Luther and Lillian were remarried about a year later. Interestingly, Lillian was also said to be very religious, Pentecostal like her parents, in addition to maybe drinking way too much.

So she might have been nuts. The remarriage of Luther and Lillian did not last long, and this next time it was Lillian who sued for divorce. A newspaper report about this event in April of 1920 states, Mrs. Lillian v. Fabian was granted a divorce by Superior George James M. Trout, yesterday from Luther C. Fabian, club steward on the ground of cruelty. She said he struck her, stayed away from home at nights,

and added to her worries by insisting that he was going to take their 12-year-old son up in an airplane. When she asked him to explain his absences from home at nights, he at first refused to do so, she said, but finally told her he was in love with another woman. She was granted custody of their two children and $75 a month alimony. Okay, all that made sense to me except the airplane part. Oh, that was random. He's a womanizer.

He's abusive. And another thing! He keeps wanting to take our son up in an airplane. plain. Life in Lily's home sounded pretty tumultuous. Lily would describe young Earl by saying he was always quiet, end of a morbid and sad disposition.

He never cared to play with other children. He always played around the house by himself. He didn't care for associates. He was a great boy to always put on a lot of colors and flashy things like a cowboy hat. Okay? He came home one day with big yellow pants on and a very red sweater and coat and these breeches. And then he

had leather leggings. He would dress oddly and put on big black glasses and then he looked like a college boy. Why are you saying this? This is odd. Okay, so he's weird. Lillian would also say, he never cared for boy companions

or girl companions, and I have never known him to go with a girl, even as he grew up. He used to always say, I am not good for anything, I will never be good for anything, I would be better off out of this world. I said, you must not feel that way

because you are just a young boy, and you have got your whole life to live for. And he would say, nobody wants me. What some sad shit for anyone to think about themselves, right? A little, a little kid. I will say, though, that the world would have been better off without him. Like who he became, the world definitely would have been better off.

So maybe he knew something. Backing up a bit now, Earl's trouble with the law began at a very young age at 1911. Four years after Grandma died and he was nearly killed by that streetcar, at least two newspapers, the Oakland Tribune and the Alameda Evening Times Star reported on the crimes of now 14, year old Earl. The Times Star reported in July of that year, each armed with revolvers, black jacks and knives, wearing masks and with a complete set of burglar tools in their possession, Earl Nelson, 14 years old, and Frank Weiss, 12 years old, were arrested late last night after they attempted to rob the grocery store of Andrew Jacobson of 2,500 Folsom Street. In the arrest of the two

youngsters, the police have in custody the person's responsible for a dozen or more robberies in the mission and sunset districts committed in the last month. The boys have confessed as several burglaries giving dates, but they were unable to furnish a list of the places entered. They were taken to the city prison and searched with the following result. My God, this is fucking crazy. This is what they had in their person. Four revolvers.

Two blackjacks, two heavy buoy knives. Dozens of keys, two jimmies. Ogres and bits. A small saw. Two hammers. What kind of fucking shit were they? wearing electric flashlights black masks two pairs of creeping socks an oil can this is like a cartoon two pieces of rope a screwdriver in about twenty dime novels a considerable sum of money and jewelry consisting of watches rings earrings stick pins and bracelets were also found on the aering youngsters they must have had big backpacks some kind of big sacks they were carrying in explaining their scheme the boy said they included to uh excuse me they intended to obtain money enough to leave the city and embark on the train holdup end of the highway business the boys said they purchased their guns and other paraphernalia with money obtained from robberies they committed.

They said the reading of dime novels suggested their crime career. Shit. Man, by the time of this arrest, Earl seems like he had been committing serious crimes for quite some time. Had all kinds of tools. Lute weapons. Also, another 1910 or 1911, Earl dropped out of school before finishing the eighth grade. There are no records that indicate Earl's education ever went beyond this. I highly doubt it did.

Only a little more info is known about teenage. age Earl Nelson, mostly from the notes of Dr. W. F. Pritchard of the Napa Insane Asylum, as it was known then, now known as the Napa State Hospital. This guy would interview Earl a few years later. Before I share what he had to say,

time for today's first to two mid-show sponsor breaks. If you don't want to hear these ads, please sign up to be a space user on Patreon. Help us make monthly contributions. Get the catalog ad-free episodes three days early and more. Thanks for listening to our sponsors. Now let's hear that extra info.

about the teenage Earl Nelson. About this time, Dr. Pritchard noted, from the ages of 14 to 18, he masturbated several times a day. So fucking what? Is that weird? Is that what?

Oh, that's deviant? Well, like, okay. I guess I was also a weird deviant, a regular male sex pervert. Back to Dr. Pritchard now. I just had to comment because I felt personally attacked. When Earl was 16,

he had a shanker lesion in the perianal region. Oh, well, that doesn't prove that Earl got syphilis from somebody anally penetrating him. It does indicate that he likely got syphilis that way, 10 to 90 days before he was examined. We do know from previous episodes that it was sadly not uncommon for institutionalized teenage boys to be anally raped by either other inmates slash patients or by adult supervisors around this time in America, sadly. Don't know that that happened to him, but I would say that it seems very possible, if not probable, that either that did or that he willingly received anal sex. from somebody. Somebody who happened to have been infected with syphilis. So much syphilis. Dr. Pritchard also wrote,

received one, Salversan injection denies further sexual perversions. He has used tobacco excessively and has gone on alcoholic sprees at irregular intervals of a week to a year ever since puberty. Salverson, by the way, the first modern antimicrobial, oh my guy, anti-microbial drug used to treat syphilis. So much syphilis in this suck. After his brush with the law, 1911, Earl dropped off the radar for a little while. His aunt Lillian later told authorities, he left school early and wandered to many places. Things did not hold his interest for long.

As a common laborer, he would wander from job to job. He could not make friends, apparently, although he was a good conversationalist. Earl disappeared shortly after the death of his grandmother, and we heard no more of him for several years. Then he came back, remained for a short time, and disappeared again. All right, before jumping ahead, several years, a few more notes about his childhood. He would allegedly have spells following his head injury

when his brain would kind of short circuit and he would do things like talk to invisible people or quote, apocalyptic biblical passages about the great beast. He was also caught at least once peeking in on his cousin Rachel while she was undressed. He had a lot going on. A lot going on with him. None of it's good. Finally, while we don't have any case files

where this was explicitly stated, it was assumed by at least one of his psychiatrists, it seems that he frequented brothels early in his teenage years when he was running wild in those streets. Earl Nelson pops back up when the records again in 1915 when he was convicted of his first crime as an adult right after he turned 18. Nelson was in Plumas County, which in the early 1900 was a sparsely populated area in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, about 200 miles northeast of San Francisco.

A local newspaper, the Feather River Bulletin, reported that Earl Nelson and Jay Newton had allegedly broke into a railway section house, and when a nearby resident attempted to arrest them, they beat him into insensibility, then stole his purse, which contained a small amount of money. They were later found down the track by a night track walker and eventually arrested. Both young men pled guilty,

were sentenced to two years in San Quentin State Prison back in the Bay Area just north of San Francisco. Nelson began his sentence, July 28, 1915. He was paroled September 28, 1916, after serving 14 months. The fact that he was paroled that early suggests his behavior was probably very good while he was incarcerated,

so he knew how to behave himself. Is unclear exactly where Nelson went or what he did right after he was released. Based on the records of Dr. W.F. Pritchard, Nelson enlisted as a private in the U.S. Army as early as a few months later, sometime in early 1917. That same year, U.S. President Woodrow Wilson

asked a special joint session of Congress for a declaration of war. It was passed in the Senate on April 2nd, and then by the house four days later, and after three years of neutrality, the United States was officially involved in World War I. Nelson, however, not sent into war with the army, as he deserted after just six weeks,

because he had been assigned guard duty in the snow, and he didn't want to do that, okay? Once again, no one is sure where Nelson went immediately after this desertion. The desertion did not end his military career, though, as on June 8th, 1970, 17, Earl Leonard Farrell enlisted in the U.S. Navy now as an apprentice seaman at a Navy recruiting station in Salt Lake City, Utah. Here, the 20-year-old Farrell signed up for a four-year

stint in the Navy, guessing the Army had no idea that had happened. It's not like they had digital records anyone, anybody could access back then. Way easier to hide from your mistakes, including crimes back then than it is now, so much easier to commit crimes and get away with them or to be a deserter. Earl's paying the Navy was to be $17.60. per month. It went a lot farther back then. Nelson was all fingerprinted when he joined the Navy in Salt Lake City. Decade later, those prints were matched with the Prince of Earl Nelson when he was arrested in Winnipeg.

On his second day in the Navy, Nelson was transferred from Salt Lake City back to San Francisco to the naval training station on Goat Island, aka Yerba Buena Island in the Bay. Dude just keeps ending up back in the Bay. His second attempt at military service went about as well as the first. Nelson was, quote, granted liberty to expire at 8.15 p.m. July 22nd, 1917. He had failed to return from his leave on that date, and after 10 days past, he was again declared to be a deserter.

He again only lasted roughly six weeks. Dr. Pritchard later noted that after six weeks, he deserted because two mornings he felt a burning about the anus from polypuses and was bothered by his stricture. God, he had a lot of butt problems. Those anal syphilis stores, really just kind of fucking him up. this year continues to be absolutely crazy for Earl Nelson as he gets his second mark in his criminal record

when he is sentenced to six months in the county jail in Stockton, California now. Stockton only about 80 miles from San Francisco on October 9th for the petty theft of a bicycle. So went AWOL twice, had a bunch of syphilis ass problems, and got put back into a jail cell. His prisoner number in Socton was 5266.

He went under the alias there of Luther Clark, which is the name of his Aunt Lillian's twice divorced husband. Unclear why he used that name. wanted to fuck with that guy. Nelson did not serve that six months since, was paroled way early after less than two months. After getting out on December 1st of his own free will, Nelson reappeared at the Navy training station at Goat Island wearing his full uniform. He had been away without leave for four months, nine days. It seems as if he just hoped they wouldn't notice that he had deserted. But he was wrong on December 21st, 1917. That's so fucking funny to me before

I go forward. Just show him back up and be like, hey, hey, man. How come you guys haven't called for me? How come I haven't? No one's asked me to like sign anything for a while. I was just kind of hanging out over there for the last four months. Just, you know, just pass those trees. Just kind of doing stuff, clean the stuff. On December 21st, 1917,

Nelson was transferred under guard now from the training station to the Navy Yard, Mayor Island for trial by general court martial. His eventful year continued. Earl L. Farrell found guilty of desertion, January 8th, 1918, sent to two years in prison, and thereafter to be dishonorably discharged. He was confined to the naval prison at Merrill Island for about four months,

but then was transferred to the naval hospital on the same island on April 24th. The explanation for this being sent to the naval hospital was given as follows. This man deserted from the Navy because he didn't like it. Actually, and they have that, he didn't like it in quotes. This man deserted from the Navy because he didn't like it. He now refuses for religious reasons to work. He spends all his time reading his testament or gazing blanks. frankly into space. He responds slowly to questions and gives the general picture of one who is

mentally deviated. He takes no interest in what is going on about him, shows some mental deterioration. Due to refusing to work, he was put in a Coke oven for two days, but still would not work, but on advice of the leader of his cult in prison, okay, he's in a prison cult now, he said he would not return to work. His reason for not working is that he did not want to serve the adversaries of the Lord. He believes the beast spoken of in Revelation as being. 666 is either the Pope or the Kaiser. All right. Now the story's really getting good.

He's so fucking nuts. Have you ever met somebody certain that so-and-so is the great beast from the book of Revelation who was not nuts? I have not. Not one time. Also, how many popes have been accused of being the Antichrist by now? How many people throughout history have been like, I would bet my life that that dude is the Antichrist.

And they have all been wrong. except for all the people who think the current Pope is the Antichrist, but they will be proven wrong once he is dead. It's just so amusing, no matter how many times people are convinced it is Armageddon o'clock. It doesn't seem to deter future zealots and rinking the same Kool-Aid and thinking the same shit with the same intensity when those people are wrong.

It's an interesting way to spend one's days. I prefer hanging out with good friends, good family, watching good movies and TV shows, listening to good music, reading good books, sometimes doing some good drugs, as opposed to stewing an apocalyptic anger. But, you know, I guess you do you. Less than a month after being transferred to the naval hospital, a hospital, a naval medical board consisting of three doctors declared that Earl Farrow was in a, quote, constitutional psychopathic state and unfit for service.

They recommended on May 3rd that, quote, he be transferred under proper guard to the Napa Insane Asylum for further treatment and that the unexpired portion of his sentence be remitted. The transfer to the Napa Insane Asylum took place May 21st, 1918. He was admitted by Dr. Ogden. Earl is now 21 years old Napa State Hospital Now California's oldest currently operating hospital They dropped the whole insane asylum name back in 1924 The facility completed in 1875

Had beds for 500 patients when it opened The original price tag was 1.5 million Today that total would be approximately 44.2 million According to inflation calculators But I'm sure it would be far more than that The facility was built in a Gothic style Which caused its seven towers to give the illusion of a castle creepy it's fucking creepy

the first few years of the napa state hospital was described at length in the 1881 book The History of Napa and Lake counties by Lyman Palmer Palmer wrote The building faces west it consists of a center building with wings extending on each side Which are exactly alike That's like that Kirkbride model

The Division for the Sexes being equal The center of the building consists of the office Library, superintendent's private office Public sitting room and officers apartments in the rear of which are the amusement hall drugstore, trunk room for the storage of patients' steamer trunks and luggage, dining rooms, kitchen, and store room. The asylum also had an underground cog railroad

located in the full basement of the building, which is now probably haunted as fuck, provided quick transport of meals and laundry between the outstretched wings of the asylum and his 12 different wards back, and it had, and his 12 different wards, excuse me, back before it was, you know, chock full of ghosts. the asylum quickly became self-sufficient.

The facility had a prize-winning dairy herd, enormous vegetable gardens, fruit orchards, and even a big bakery. Off-grounds just to the northeast, the Napa State Hospital Farm was established in order to raise cattle to provide beef for state-run facilities, specifically the asylum,

the veterans' home, and San Quentin Prison. Nelson, not happy about being transferred to this place. He told Dr. J.B. Rogers, the psychiatrist in charge of his care, that he did not suffer from depression, delusions or hallucinations. He just needed people to fucking wake up and realize that the Pope is the devil

and soon an apocalyptic battle will begin. Anyway, Dr. Rogers, no relation to Mr. Rogers, as far as I'm aware of. His records note that Pharaoh was in good physical shape with, quote, remarkably even teeth. Okay. But that the Wasserman test

for syphilis in the blood proved positive. Well, we knew that. Luckily for Earl, the Wasserman test for syphilis in the spinal fluid proved negative, indicating that Nelson did not have neurocifalus, so the disease, you know, wasn't affecting his brain, at least at this time. Not that it couldn't have later spread to his brain, I think maybe he did. Dr. Rogers asked Nelson if he experienced peculiar thoughts, and Nelson replied, quote,

well, not exactly, not any more than a first-class intelligent person would. I feel like that answer confirmed that he did, it did in fact experience peculiar thoughts. I would argue that that was a peculiar thing to say. Someone please start working versions of that answer in the conversations today. Just you know you're out at a bar. Bartenders like, can I get you anything to drink? Well, not exactly.

Not any more than a first-class intelligent person would. Please do it. Records of what Nelson listed for family and self-history state that one uncle had epilepsy from alcoholism. This uncle drinks to excess. Patient Nelson is addicted to liquor, said he had syphilis four years ago, also gonorrhea.

life and childhood pleasant has had a grammar school education masturbated from 13 to 18 years of age but not since then has been in the jewelry and furniture business has drank occasionally the last time about seven months ago no history of trauma or previous mental attacks

he has so much trauma and a couple more things before moving forward why were they so obsessed with jerking off back then why when it came to mental health were they so worried about whacking it and also no fucking way he just stopped jerking off when he turned 18. No way.

You don't turn that switch off when you've been cranking it three-ish times a day previous to that and you're still single. That's not how that works. But why did you feel like you needed to hide that?

Actually, they did link masturbation to insanity sometimes, which is fucking wild. It is unclear if Nelson did not consider being orphaned twice surviving the earthquake. Two major illnesses, a street car accident

and serving time in prison with mentioning or traumatic or if he was just lying, hiding that. Only 22 days after arriving at Napa State Hospital, Nelson escaped June 13, 1918. He was out for five days before being captured

and returned to the hospital. He stated he did not like the treatments they were given him for syphilis. He found them to be, quote, severe. And then he escaped again, two months later. August 25th. Nelson left Napa entirely after his second escape, headed towards his Aunt Lillian's house in San Francisco,

some 50 miles south of the facility. He made it there. Aunt Lillian and Earl's later trial in Winnipeg would talk about Earl showing up unexpectedly at her house after that second escape, scaring the fucking shit out of her. She was in the process of moving to a different house in the city at the time.

Her son Evan was 10, her daughter Doris was four. She said, quote, he escaped from that asylum. I knew he was up at Napa, and it was the night before I was moving. I had been down to my new home getting it ready. I came in, my husband hadn't come home with me, and just as I put my hand up to the light, the electric light, he had his face right up against the glass door with a horribly crazy hat on.

And I let out one terrible scream on me. because he looked so awfully insane. Because he looked so awfully insane. His eyes were just black, glaring in at me. And the children rushed up to me, and of course I opened the door because he was my own flesh and kin, and I loved him, and I do love him, and I opened the door, and he came in,

and he acted so queer in the house, and I was scared to death because of the condition he was in. His legs were all bleeding with no stockings on, at all, and old ragged shoes that he must have picked up on the ground when he tried to escape there. And I heard they gave him a suit of my husband's clothes, and a cap and stockings. And I had him clean himself up

and I said, for goodness sake, Earl, get out of here as quick as you can. I was scared to death of him and I gave him some lunch and taken some money. I said, get away from here and don't come back. Because my husband wasn't home that night. I was alone and the minute he got out, I went down and shut the door

and I rang up the Napos State Asylum and told them who I was and that Earl was there and that I was scared two pieces of him. They said they would look for him and Earl went away and I didn't see Earl for many months. well they wouldn't find him his whereabouts are unknown until nelson was arrested again two months later down to los angeles in late october his life was pure chaos a los angeles newspaper at the time the los angeles evening express ran a story october 28th nineteen eighteen they wrote quote carl el feral alleged to be a deserter from goat island was arrested today after a chase in the downtown district by detective ed brown the arrest was made on complaint of e jorton who claims he shares he share

his apartment with Farrell, whom he charges with stealing a suitcase, two suits of clothes, an overcoat, a shotgun, revolver, and other articles. Naval authorities were notified of the arrest, while on the way out of the police station, where he had reported his loss, Horton saw Farrell in an automobile.

When he stepped to the running board, Farrell leaped out, leaving the suitcase and other effects. According to Brown, Farrell admitted that he is a deserter from Goat Island and that he had sold the shotgun and some clothing for $15. At the time of his arrest, Nelson was wearing his Navy uniform, which is, which is odd. He was remanded back to the Navy, who promptly sent him back to the Naval Hospital on

Mary Island, November 30th, 1918. And then the Naval Hospital was like, we can't fucking deal with this guy. And they transferred him right back to the Napa Insane Asylum, December 3rd. And the very next day, December 4th, that motherfucker escaped from that asylum for the third time. And they would not bring him back to finish treatment. It seems like security was pretty lax there. Farrell was now officially discharged by the asylum in absentia, May 17, 1919, when he was diagnosed as improved on date of last escape. Yeah, bullshit.

They were just like, fucking whatever. Sick of that dude. We don't want to deal with him anymore. He's too much trouble. Yeah, yeah, he's great. Sure, sure. He's improved. Whatever we have to say to keep him from coming back.

Shortly after he escaped, but before the asylum officially discharged him in absentia, in February of 1919, Nelson enlisted as a cook in the Coast Guard. So after two very abysmal showings in the military, he goes for a third branch, interesting choice. Immediately after enlisting, Nelson returned home to get his clothes and then never, ever reported for duty. Why would he even, why would he do that? Oh, wait, oh, right.

Oh, because he's legit insane. In early 1919, Nelson returned to his Aunt Lillian's house. She would later testify that when he came around this time, he changed. He didn't make her scream in terror the first moment she saw him, so that's good. That's an improvement. But he was, he was far from normal, not exactly a delight to have around. She said that he now became fixated with, quote, reading the Bible, talking about sexual matters,

plain childlike with her children, and he would not communicate with any visitors who would come to the house, but would rather stare into space. That's a very interesting combination of behaviors. Hey Earl, how's your day been? Oh, good, good, good, good. I read the book Obadiah front to back and back to front. Also, question, if you have a sex sore on your butthole and you touch it with your finger and then use your finger to touch your wiener, can your wiener get a sore as well?

I don't know. Was looking to teach him to the prophet Obadiah for that answer. Can't seem to find it. Never mind. Got to run. Have a tea party to attend with the other children. His odd behavior, not limited to all that shit. Nelson will also sometimes get up and walk on his hands just out of fucking nowhere.

or, better yet, pick up very big chairs with his teeth. Lillian said, quote, he would hold them up straight in his teeth in front of company all the time without being asked. I love that she added without being asked. She wanted to make it clear that people weren't just coming over to her house and saying stuff like, hey, Earl, bet you can't pick up that heavy chair with just your teeth.

Oh, yeah, wash me! Then in August of 1919, without any warning or even telling his family that he had been seen anybody. Earl married Mary Teresa Martin. Should be noted that Earl got married using a fictitious name, though. He called himself Evan Fuller.

The strangeness continues and deepens. This dude's instability was on par with another California killer from not that far away. Richard Chase, the Vampire of Sacramento, if you remember that fucking episode from years back. Earl was 22 at this point in his life,

probably dealing with a lot of brain damage, definitely dealing with a lot of family trauma, very much syphilitic and insane, and Mary Martin's new bride was a 49-year-old Irish immigrant from County Antrim who had no idea who she was marrying, truly.

She had met Nelson while they were both working in the San Francisco Hospital. Mary was the head of the linen department and Evan Fuller worked in the kitchen department as a waiter. How is this guy a waiter? How is he bringing people food?

What is this fucking insane? At work, Evan Fuller presented as an affable deeply religious and pious man. That's the character he was channeling. Nelson told Mary and other co-workers, he was, quote, Evan Lewis Fuller, who lived at 1736 Page Street.

He was English, age 37, born in Lansing, Michigan, and previously was a bookkeeper in the building contracting industry. He listed his father's name is James Fuller from Wisconsin, and he gave his mother's name as Fanny Fuller. He was out of his fucking mind. The couple was married, August 15th,

1919 at the St. Agnes Roman Catholic rectory at 1025 Masonic Avenue in San Francisco. A journalist from the Winnipeg Tribune who would interview Mary years later wrote the following. After the ceremony he took his wife to the residence of his aunt on Masonic Avenue

San Francisco. Well Lil, meet my wife, he said. It was then that his wife learned the real facts. She had always thought him peculiar. She told his aunt. The knowledge came too late and she decided to make the best of it. She lived with him for six months.

Directly after her wedding, this poor 49-year-old woman learned that her husband was not named Evan Fuller, was not 37, but was 22, was not from Lansing, Michigan, but was from the area. Had not been a bookkeeper

in the building contracting industry, but primarily only worked menial labor jobs. He was a guy who had deserted from the Army, Navy, and kind of the Coast Guard as well, a guy who had then been committed to an insane asylum

and escaped three times, a dude who'd been to prison, been arrested multiple times, and guessing he didn't mention the syphilis he had to her either. The relationship between Mary and Nelson, unsurprisingly, quickly deteriorated. In addition to not being who he said he was, Nelson would not hold down a job for the first few months over together, and he continued his nomadic wanderings. As they could not afford rent, they moved in with Lillian for a short while before moving to Palo Alto,

where both Mary and Evan, got a job of the all-girls private Castilea School there. Yeah, Castilea School. founded in 1907, it is still there, an affordable $62,400 in annual tuition for its 426 girls in grades 6 through 12 now. Grace Slick, the lead singer of Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship and Starship, the lady who wrote and sang one of my favorite songs

of all time, White Rabbit, probably their most famous alumni. Nelson was hired on as a, quote, pantry man to do odd jobs and work as a waiter. again, how is this fucking guy working as a wait? Mary was hired as a waitress, but eventually was put in charge of a group of kindergartners. The odd couple lived on the campus in staff housing.

And while there, Nelson started to show signs of extreme jealousy about Mary. He picked fights with other staff and any men who so much as smiled at Mary, wildly paranoid. In January of 1920, Nelson told Mary that people were conniving against him, particularly one man, outside in the pan... Particularly one man outside in the pantry. I love that. Well, that motherfucker outside in the pantry won't stop conniving against me. Mary,

you've seen him. He told her, quote, I am tired of this place, pack up your bag, and get out. But she didn't want to get out. And she would not. She was afraid of him. And Nelson ended up leaving without her. He would attempt to return several times.

Mary would refuse to take him back each time. Then Nelson started to threaten Mary's life. Ultimately, the head mistress had to have Nelson arrested for harassing her. In later testimony, Mary described this time by saying, quote, Earl went around the country here and there, and I saw him from time to time. I might tell you during all his wanderings and all his strange conduct that people advise me,

well, why don't you get a divorce? But owing to me, being a Roman Catholic and Earl himself a Protestant, the marriage service in our Roman Catholic ritual is no mere idle story. And I, being an Irish woman of the old type, I must stay with him in sickness and in health, and I considered he was mentally sick. just the worst kind of sickness he could have. On another occasion, I consulted with my spiritual advisor.

He told me that very often kindness cures insanity, and to bear with it, that time would tell, and we could never tell, so he advised me to be kind and that sort of thing. Of course, her spiritual advisor, read her priest, told her that kindness cures insanity. It's fucking wild, that anyone has ever consulted priests, unwed, not supposed to be having sexual or romantic relations

with any kind of a person priests for marital advice ever in the history of the priesthood. Getting marital advice from a priest to me is like getting auto repair advice from an Amish person. It just doesn't make any sense at all. It is shortly after this time in Palo Alto

that Earl Nelson suspected and then proven murders began. But before we get into those, I want to share more of what Mary had to say about her interactions with her husband, Earl. My God, what that woman put up with. Remember that he had presented himself before their marriage

as a deeply religious and pious man. But then after they got married, she said that Nelson would regularly walk out of whatever church service they attended, literally never sitting through to the end of any service. She testified at his Winnipeg trial that, quote, he used to quote the Bible quite often to me, translate, or rather quote it. So that's a fun combo doing that, but not being able to willing, you know, being able to listen to a sermon.

He also bought a pair of rosary beads, then sold him to a secondhand shop a few days later. and on another occasion, he saw a picture of Jesus in a store and told her that, you know, people often said that he looked like Christ. And then she told a really funny story about some house hunting they did in Oakland. She said, quote, well, we had a hope of having a home sometime. And Evan suggested, I love that she calls him Evan. And Evan suggested this day that we go over to Oakland and look at a house for us. And I, of course, naturally thought that he had some money with which to buy a house.

And when we went out there about several houses outside of Oakland, the real estate agent asked him, of course, and he had only $2 in his pocket to place down on a deposit on the house. He knew I had no money to put down on it. Of course, the agent laughed at that. That's amazing. I know houses were a lot cheaper back then, but they weren't $2 cheap. The average between $5,000 and $7,000 in Oakland back then. That's such a funny visual.

Okay, yeah, I'm ready to buy a house. Let's fucking go. Let's do it. I got the money in my pocket, player. Give me that house. Give it to me. All right. Well, how much money do you have in your pocket?

Oh, $2. Boom, motherfucker. Give me to the house. Give it to me. Mary also said that when they lived on Masonic and 8th, her brother came over for a visit once, and Nelson completely ignored him, like to a fucking insane degree. He was so jealous that her brother was visiting her. He literally refused to acknowledge him,

would not say a word to him. Instead, he sat staring silently at a wall, angry that his wife was talking to another man who was her brother. And as he did that, She said his eyes took on a strange look with pupils so dilated, you could only see the whites. Imagine coming to meet your brother-in-law for the very first time.

You've had zero interactions with him of any sort. And he literally will not say a single word to you. And then on top of that, just like a fucking psycho, stares blankly towards the wall. Oh my God, I would so want to be like, hey, sis, can we talk in the other room? And then once we're in that other room, just like, you fucking have to, you know, leave with me right now.

And then, you know, I have to figure out how to come back here. and put this guy down. I have to kill him, right? I have to. A dude was so paranoid and jealous. Mary also said that he stole a photo that she had stored in her trunk. The photograph was of Mr. John Dylan,

a member of the British House of Commons, who was just some random friend of her uncle. She had zero personal relationship with this guy, had never had one, and she noticed that the photo was missing and then discovered it crumpled up in one of his pants pockets. He's bat-shit.

Now, one more story. This is the best one yet by far. At some stage in their relationship, while Mary was living at that all-girls school, Nelson thought that building a house might induce her to return to living with him. So he did place a deposit on some undeveloped land in St. Mary Park in San Francisco.

And then he did start to build a house. But then he stopped once his house was somehow literally one foot in height, a single foot. Apparently after it was a foot tall, he laid down his tools and walked away, never returned to it. And she said,

I suppose it is still standing there. And having some money, paid on it, he never went back to it, or seen the agents or anything else. He had written me a description, or rather he had mentioned, explained to me the building, what he was going to do in this house. And, of course, I knew very well that there was nothing to it because he could not possibly do it on the means he had. My God, I wish I had a picture of what he built.

I mean, what did he fucking build? It was a foot high. Maybe some flooring? I can't picture him pouring a concrete foundation, you know? I bet he just, you know, built out some type of flooring or a very crude foundation, like a like stacked fieldstone people did that back then unreinforced brick masonry maybe wood pier set on some dirt that probably wasn't even packed but but way funnier i hope it was some kind of spinal tap stonehenge situation if you know that reference like i hope he built a little dollhouse

in the middle of the lot and then was like huh something doesn't feel right i know i follow the blueprint exactly wait wait a minute wait a minute wait a minute wait wait wait wait are those numbers feet. Are you sure? They're not inches. Not inches but feet? Oh, shit. So that doorway is supposed to be a seven foot tall doorway, not seven inches? God dang it. All right. I'm going to walk away. Regroup before I get back to this. Kind of freaking out right now, to be honest. Feet, not inches. That changes the building costs a lot. While refusing to divorce Earl due to her Catholic convictions, Mary would die many years later,

still carrying his last name, but not really. Still carrying the fake name of Fuller. Because when they got married, he gave her that nonsense. She kept a fake fucking name the rest of her life. That's so odd. Mary would also refuse to ever live with Earl. She would reject any and all of his future attempts to romantically reconcile and cohabitate with him.

Maybe part of his later fury. Perhaps even the primary motivation for his rage directed at the older women and he would mostly kill for the remainder of his life, had a lot to do with this. Or maybe he chose Mary in the first place because he already had some sort of mommy issues, but really grandmommy issues,

due to spending a decent part of his childhood being raised primarily by his devout, straight grandmother. I so wish we knew more about her. Okay, let's now move into the dark part of his episode when Earl Nelson wasn't only doing insane, super weird shit, but when he began to commit violent and terrifying acts. Right after today's second and two mid-show sponsor, breaks. Thanks for listening to those sponsors. Hope you heard some deals that you like and used

our landing pages and codes to get some discounts and also let sponsors know that we sent you there, which helps us stay sponsored. So now let us move into the dark part of this episode. Several months after Earl Nelson was arrested in Manitoba Detective Leahy of the New York Police Department, not from the trailer park boys, not Mr. Leahy, wrote to the Winnipeg Police requesting the Winnipeg authorities to ask Nelson whether he had been in New York seven years earlier, specifically in February of 1920, when 17-year-old Rene Hoxie was left home alone to show

prospective renters the furnished room that the family, her family, had advertised for rent. This may have been Earl's first murder. Mary had just refused to leave that school boarding situation with him weeks before. You know, she did not know where he went when he took off after that big

rejection. It is possible that he hopped on a train, traveled across the country. As Detective Lehi stated, on February 2nd, 19, a young girl who was alone in her parents of parvah was beaten over the head with a blunt instrument and then an indecent assault was committed upon her she was dead when found we believed that the perpetrator came to the house an answer to an advertisement and was shown the room and finding the girl alone attacked her her young age again only 17 not earl's preference but sexual assault apparently

was committed upon her after death which was his preference a dude had so much shame over sex he didn't even want the person he was penetrating alive to know what he was doing or something. The assailant had almost certainly responded to a room for rent advertisement or house for sale sign, which would become Nelson's modus operandi for gaining access to his victims, hitting females over the head, strengthening them, especially strengthening them, also his style. Furthermore, a description of the potential suspect in New York featured prominently the swarthy or very dark complexion of the man, which did accurately describe Earl. There was another murder case in this early period where attempts were subsequently made to link Earl Nelson to it after he was finally arrested in Winnipeg.

In the opinion of Fred Here, chief of the Piedmont Police, Piedmont of town just northeast of Oakland, back in the Bay Area, Nelson was the killer. And this was the case of Ola Carlson, a 19-year-old domestic servant from Sweden who was murdered in an exclusive area of Piedmont as she was walking back from accompanying a friend to the streetcar. her body was found the morning of March 14th all the initial reports stated that she had not been sexually attacked but then later the reports that the perpetrator had indeed been a degenerate deduced from stains found on her coat guessing it appeared as if he had ejaculated on her coat if this was Earl's work that is especially weird

because he was only into necrophilia with victims it seems extra strange that he would pull out when having sex with the corpse but I guess if you are somebody who fucks a corpse If you're insane You know trying to apply logic To this behavior doesn't really work Maybe he pulled out So he didn't end up with a fucking zombie baby

To race or something I know this is fucking inappropriate But it does really make me laugh To think about a necrophiliac Who forgets to pull out And then is super stressed Super worried That you now might have to raise a zombie baby

Oh oh fuck Oh shit! No, God, please. Do not let her be pregnant. I am not in a good place right now. I am not ready to be a zombie daddy. At this point in time, Uncle Will had moved to Berkeley and was living at 2805 Russell Street,

not very far north of the Piedmont location where the girl died, was Nelson in the area visiting his aunt and uncle up the railway line. One other detail leads to some suspicion was the following report, a man who later proved to be a former soldier and a gardener was picked up by the police last night loitering around the scene of the crime. The man, however, supplied a satisfactory alibi.

He explained there's presence at the spot where he was arrested was prompted by idle curiosity. Was it? Had Earl come to see the show that followed his murder? Okay, now let's take a look at the first violent crime we know with certainty, with a fair amount of certainty he committed. Earl Nelson, who had just turned 24 years old, knocked at the door of the home at 1519 Pacific Avenue in San Francisco on May 19, 1921. When 24-year-old Charles Sumners, or Summers, excuse me, answered the door, Nelson told him he was a plumber and there to fix a leaking gas line.

Nelson was allowed to enter the house, was shown to the basement while there. He noticed 12-year-old Mary Summers, Charles' little sister, playing with some dolls. And then he just spontaneously, impulsively, just attacked her, punched her with a closed fist, finally threw her to the ground, and then started a choker. Fortunately, Mary would be saved from being killed by her brother who heard her screams, rushed into the basement,

and beat Nelson off. He fought him off. It sounds actually, that was poor choice of words, which I actually did not intend. He ran in there and he fucking beat him off. And then once he came, he was relaxed. And he's like, okay, now you can go, right?

Feel better? He's like, yeah, I do actually feel better. Okay, get out of here. Nelson managed to escape, but neighbors had heard all the commotion and called the police. Traffic police officer, Elmer,

Esperance, then saw Nelson board a poke streetcar, he chased him down on his motorcycle. Fuck yeah. He's able to catch him, tackle him, and arrest him. Hale officer Esperance. Once captured Nelson, whose face was scratched up pretty badly from this fight with Charles and Mary, and admitted to the police that he had deserted twice from the U.S. and, excuse me, had twice deserted from the U.S. military, that he had recently escaped from the state insane asylum at Napa also, where naval authorities had.

sent him, did not deny that he had attacked the girl, said he had spells when he simply lost control of himself. Mary was taken to Central Emergency Hospital. She had bruised on her throat but survived with no lasting physical damage. Nelson arrested, charged, placed in a straitjacket, taken to the detention hospital to have his sanity evaluated. The very next day, May 20th, 1921, Earl Nelson's wife, Mary Fuller, hired a lawyer for Nelson seeking to have him committed to a mental hospital rather than be sent to jail.

Mary also publicly framed the incident as if Nelson was really the victim of a misunderstanding. She described it as, you know, he just accidentally startled Mary Sumner, who screamed out of instinct, and then Charles attacked Nelson after misreading the entire situation. Uh-huh. So how does that explain young Mary having bruises on her throat? Bruises consistent with strangulation? What the fuck was wrong with Mary Fuller? Why would she have such a soft spot for a dude?

who she herself was afraid of. Somebody who conned her into marrying them. Somebody she refused to live with. So strange. Dr. F. Justin McCarthy signed an affidavit declaring that Earl Nelson was indeed insane, June 10th. Judge John J. Van Nostrand then issued a warrant of arrest against Nelson so that the state could hold him to be observed until a hearing could be held to decide on his alleged insanity. The hearing occurred three days later, June 13, 1921, and two medical examiners, Dr. D. D. Lustig and Dr. Arthur Beardsley also concluded Nelson not sane.

Very much insane. No surprise there. They also agreed that he was a danger to himself and to others. Their notes say, patient apathetic, difficult to elicit information, hears voices of spirits and sees them, auditory and visual hallucinations, threatened to suicide. People about him say that he is crazy, will not associate with him, some claim of his, also claims to have lapses of memory. Yeah, guy he was definitely not of a sound mind. Judge Van Nostrand ordered Earl Nelson to be confined to the Napa State Hospital, the place he'd escaped from three times already,

until doctors there determined him to be safe to be released back out into the public if that determination was ever made. So Earl Nelson transferred to the Napa Insane Asylum, which I believe was now called Napa State Hospital for the insane, the next day, June 14th. Once admitted on June 16th, Dr. Pritchard interviewed Earl yet again. his notes would say in 1919 Nelson married a woman whom he regards as his soulmate

Okay She is now working as a maid In Miss Harker's school in Palo Alto Excessive intercourse since marriage Occasional periods of excessive masturbations For the past few years After dissipations He sometimes sees snakes

Holy shit I am pretty sure the word dissipation Is being used here in place of ejaculation No wonder Mary refused to shack up with him again. In addition to his problems with money, intense jealousy, paranoid delusions,

problems, just comprehending basic reality. He was also excessively fucking hurt and then seeing snakes after he came. What a strange nightmare. How much was deemed excessive, by the way? Twice a day, three times four? Too much, I guess.

Whatever it was, too much. You know, she wasn't a spring chicken. She was old enough. She might have, you know, been having some problems with natural lubrication. Back in the days before a lady, could just buy some sweet, sweet lobe at a grocery store. Earl was wearing that pussy out

and then complaining about all the snakes instead of engaging in any post-coital cuddling. What a interesting husband. Dr. Pritchard also wrote, In his conversations, the patient uses the lingoes of various cults and isms and says he has studied phrenology, psychology, anatomy, pulstery, occultism, Christian science, plain and solid geometry.

Thus, he puts this in quotes, You feel that cranial depression, that may be a brain lesion under that. So the poor guy was desperately trying to figure out why he was so off his fucking rocker. In the days before medication for various mental illnesses, you know, we have now existed. Finally, Dr. Pritchard again noted that Nelson tested double positive for syphilis. So much syphilis. He was fucking riddled with syphilis. I get it.

On July 5th, Nelson denied, quote, the accusation that he had attacked a little girl. But he was still diagnosed as a constitutional. constitutional psychopath with outbreaks. Constitutional psychopathic inferiority was a catch-all phrase. Doctors used for a general mixture of violent and antisocial characteristics found in irredeemable criminals who appeared to lack a conscience back then, by the way. So, yeah, that plays. Just nine days later, this fucking psychopath escaped from the asylum again, the fourth time. Luckily, he was caught and returned the same day.

A dude had apparently been attempting to escape from the asylum the entire time he'd been there. there. Dr. Rogers noted upon his return, Nelson was restless, violent, dangerous, excited, and depressed, threatened to take life of wife, also to suicide, had auditory and visual hallucinations, hears voices of spirits and sees him, claims to have lapses of memory. So more of that stuff. So because they couldn't figure out a curium, they, they truly should have just locked him up in a cell or a padded room around 23 hours a day, guarded him closely that other hour. I actually do feel bad for him, but you have to think about, you know, people, somebody like him will hurt if you don't lock him up tightly. What is the best solution here for everyone's safety in the situation? In this case, it was essentially to lock this motherfucker up and throw away the key. They did, to be fair, though, restrained Nelson via, quote, yard restraints whenever he was outdoors and no longer in a locked area. Basically, they treated him like a dog that just keeps trying to run away, and they would

put a leash on him, that they would tie to a tree or a stake in the ground, might have also had him in a stray jacket. three months later in October, Nelson caught with a piece of wire, fashion to work as a screwdriver. He was involved in a plot with five other patients to, of course, escape. Now he was placed in some sort of restraints most of the time while he was inside as well, possibly a stray jacket some of that time. The following month, progress notes say that Nelson had been responding well to treatment. Interesting.

His wife, Mary, had also been visiting him regularly. Three months later, in February of 1922, Nelson continued to respond well to treatment and had been behaving well in the ward so his ward restraints were lifted. That is, he was able to now move freely about while indoors. Two months later in April, his yard restraints also lifted. Now he's able to move freely about outdoors as well. That's probably not good. On June 1st, a note in Nelson's chart said,

This is the final note as patient will have been in hospital one year on June 14th. Patient is well behaved and appears to be cooperating in every way in what is done for him. Physical condition is good. Well, Nelson was now expecting to be released. I mean, it sounded like they were thinking about it. Nope. Not really. We don't have any more notes on O'Earl for about a year.

Not until April 2nd, 1923. They say, restless, says he will try to escape again soon. So now he's not happy again. Then on July 1st, 1923, more notes written about him have been uncovered. They say, patient has been dissatisfied for the last couple of months, has been asking for front yard privilege and several other favors. has threatened to stop working on the ward if he's not granted more consideration

refuses to take any more 6.06 treatments, stating all as well. Has a bad reputation, has been in prison, escaped from this hospital four times, is a very good worker at presence, no delusions manifested at present, physical condition at present, very good, sleeps little, restless at times,

appetite good. Four months later, on November 2nd, 1923, after two years and four months in the asylum, he does escape again for the fifth and final time, never return. The Napa State Hospital for the insane closed its file on Farrell by recording that he was now discharged as improved on March 10th, 1924.

That is the same shit they did back when they didn't want to deal with him, you know, the last time he'd stayed in the hospital. Just more of that, whatever, fucking, yeah, he's okay, yeah, he's improved. He's awesome. He's the most sane person who's ever lived. Whatever we have to say, just don't bring him back. Earl never was legally released. for the next two years, we don't know where that guy was or what he did.

He might have strangled a 17-year-old woman, Elizabeth Jones in San Francisco, August 22nd, 1925, might have also strangled a 45-year-old woman, Daisy Anderson in San Francisco, September 5th of that year. On October 15th, Ala McCoy, age unknown, was strangled in Philadelphia. Might have been his dark handiwork. November 6th, 37-year-old Murray, also strangled in Philadelphia. And so was 33-year-old Lena Wiener on November 3,000. 10th of that year. Some thought Earl might have been maybe was behind all those murders. But the first murder that investigators were pretty damn sure Earl committed once he was finally

arrested in Canada occurred in 1926 when he was 28 years old. On February 20th of that year, 60-year-old Clara Newman was looking for a new lodger for her rooming house at 2037 Pierce Street in San Francisco. Back in the 20s, a rooming house was a low-cost multi-tenant dwelling house where residents rented individual furnished rooms, just like just bedrooms, but shared communal spaces like bathrooms and hallways, you know, were for everybody. Unlike boarding houses, which provided meals and laundry,

rooming houses typically only offered shelter, requiring tenants to buy their own food or to eat out. It was for people who needed a place to stay for more than a few nights, but also either could not afford their own house or were not going to be staying in the area long enough for a house to make sense. Or just for somebody who, you know,

needed a place for one night, but didn't have the money for a proper hotel. They're kind of similar to a hostel. A good way for widows back then largely to generate income after their husbands and died. Widows who didn't want to get married again or couldn't find a new husband, you know, back when not that many jobs were available to women. Clara had a sign in her front window advertising a vacancy around 1.30 p.m. A man around 30 years old and five foot seven inches tall wearing an army shirt with civilian pants and carrying a Bible knocked on the door and asked about rooms.

Clara told him that she had three rooms available. The man said his name was Roger Wilson, asked to see the attic apartment. And this Roger Wilson will later be determined to have been, of course, Earl Nelson. Clara's nephew, Merton Newman, was working on the furnace downstairs at this time, saw his aunt, lead the man up to the attic, heard them talk, got a really good look at him. Merton noted that this Roger Wilson was soft-spoken, also noted Wilson's huge hands with special attention. Merton later recalled The balls of his thumbs

were very broad and square With swollen joints and nails At least a half inch long Yeah Nelson did have huge hands Remember how he used to walk on them In front of company? Unasked at his aunt sister's house Big hands in a naturally stocky

muscular build His build in addition to his swarthy features His dark skin, thick dark hair What led to the moniker of the gorilla man Merton said that Nelson and his aunt Claire were upstairs for a few minutes, maybe more before Nelson came back downstairs alone. He stopped and told Merton,

tell the lady I'll be back in about an hour to rent the room. But Merton did not tell her that. He instead left the house without going upstairs. Important to note, he did not live there or worked for his aunt full time. So he went on to deal with other things. He did not return to his aunt's rooming house for four days, not until February 24th.

He returned to follow up with his aunt about the furnace, found out that none of the tenants had seen her four days, so he searched the house. And he found his aunt's lifeless body in the third floor bathroom. Claire was nude, a cord had been wrapped highly around her neck, and after being choked to death,

her body had been violently beaten and sexually assaulted. Had he strangled her when he initially walked her upstairs, then come back for some necrophilia, had he returned later to kill and rape and beat on her corpse? We don't know. How had no one contacted somebody earlier

if the third floor bathroom had been locked for four days? Were there no tenants? So many questions I don't have answers to, including did he impregnate her? Was she carrying a zombie demon child? I know that's fucked up, but hear me out. This happened 100 years ago.

So even her kids would now be dead. Any grandkids alive when this happened? Also dead now. So no one should be personally hurt by that comment. Time plus tragedy equals comedy. Maybe? Maybe even the heinous zombie baby shit, I've been saying? I don't know.

Six days later, Earl struck again. 63-year-old Laura Beale, owner of the Deer Park Apartments in San Jose, California, near less than 50 miles south of San Francisco, visited by the same Roger Wilson, motherfucker, who was again carrying a Bible and inquiring about open rooms. That evening, Laura's husband

discovered his wife's body in one of the empty apartments. She was on a bed, had been strangled with the silk belt from the dress she was wearing. She had been again sexually assaulted post-mortem. The silken cord that had been used to strangle Beale had reportedly been wound so tightly around her neck

it had embedded in her flesh. Her killer was enraged. Jumping ahead three months now. Lillian St. Mary, also 63 years old, like the previous victim, was advertising an open room in her boarding house on Dolores Street in San Francisco. Nelson, we don't know if he presented as Roger Wilson this time, appeared asking to see a room. And like the others, Lillian was strangled to death. Her naked body, again, sexually assaulted after she was dead, shoved under a bed in a vacant room. The police suspected, excuse me, that the killings were all done by the same man because all three of the landladys were around the same age.

and now the press starts to write stories about a sexually motivated serial killer in the Bay Area. Back before that was a kind of dude that everybody knew existed. I cannot imagine how much terror a bunch of women of a certain age felt wondering if they were going to be next. The newspapers dubbed the man the dark strangler

and the gorilla killer due to his method of killing and appearance as I went over earlier. Speaking of appearance, apparently in addition to large hands, Earl also had atypically long arms for a guy who was 5-5 and about 165 pounds. Not a real big guy, not at all actually, but lean, muscular, big hands, long arms.

It was a memorable look. Just six days after Lillian, St. Mary's murder, Mrs. P.A. Ford of 1372 Clay Street, age unknown, was looking to fill a room in her rooming house. She lived on the fifth floor. Nelson came to the door of Ford's fifth floor apartment asking to see a room on the third floor. Mrs. Ford called her husband to show the apartment. Nelson then immediately left. Suddenly saying he was not interested once the husband.

and entered the chat. Mrs. Ford would tell a reporter, the man was stocky and well-built, with shifty eyes, strange blue eyes, and the hands of a giant. The motherfucker had some big hands. Everyone's talking about his hands.

Nelson did not leave the building, but rather went down to the fourth floor. There he knocked on the door, and when a woman named Mrs. Stidger answered, again, age unknown, he said that he was there to fix her telephone. With a lot of women being on high alert after the three recent murders

and subsequent press coverage, Mrs. Stidger was highly, suspicious and because of that, Nelson quickly left. So that press coverage likely saved your life. Nelson didn't travel far after he left. Dude was dying to strangle somebody again. He decided to try his luck at the apartment house next door. There, Mrs. Gladys Dunn, the landlady,

had just started showing Nelson an apartment when a janitor happened to come in and likely saved her life because Nelson now immediately left. Again, we do not know Gladys' age. The very next day, Mrs. Flint Hufford of Albany, California, just a bit north of Oakland, went to bed, filled with nightmares of the guerrilla fiend,

who had been in all the papers. During the night, she dreamed, the strangler had climbed through her window and had started to choke her. When it seemed like he was about to win and kill her, she reached under her pillow,

pulled out the revolver. She had started to keep there for protection. Thinking she was firing directly into his face, she instead awakened to find that she had shot herself in the hand. Oh, my God. Show us how terrified

some people were over these killings. June 24th, exactly two weeks after his last known murder, more than 325 miles from San Francisco, 53-year-old Ollie Russell advertised a room for rent in her boarding house in Santa Barbara, California. She was found strangled with a curtain cord. It had been pulled so tightly the blood gushed from her neck. An autopsy revealed unsurprisingly that Ollie had been sexually assaulted after death.

The similarities to the San Francisco crimes led police, of course, to believe this was the work of the same killer. in LA police bulletin described the strangled murderer as probably Greek, rather high cheekbones, dark skin and a thin face. Probably Greek. Were there a lot of Greek immigrants at that time that people wanted to fucking blame crimes on or something?

That's strange. Earl was not Greek. He did not have any Greek ancestry. His mother was Danish and Irish. His dad was Jewish and Spanish, according to what I was able to find out. Less than a month later on August 16th, Nelson was back at it in the Bay Area.

he visited Mrs. Mary Nesbitt, listed as being 52 years old in some sources and as being 63 and others, about an opening in her Oakland department building. Nelson alleged to have strangled her with a towel and the left Mary's body in a pool of blood in the bathroom of the vacant apartment. Blood from him strangling her so violently,

he broke the skin, and also possibly it's not real clear in sources that he bashed her over the head with something. He continued his necrophilia pattern, raping Mary's corpse after death. I got, this guy should have been electro-shocks. to death back of the asylum if they would have had electroshock back then or lobotomites if they had lobotomies back then uh to the point that they just killed him i'm disgusted of course by him

but but also feel bad for him because he was so out of his mind clearly his sexual preference was now freshly dead bodies imagine that being your kink what a fucking curse imagine not being able to feel really turned on unless you had just killed someone you know if you just had like chikatilo syndrome what's this big deal why kink shamed me why why he why y'all come my yum, our distress over zombie baby, why I had more to plate? Nelson drops completely off the radar for a few months following this murder. Shows back up on October 19th in Portland, Oregon. Remember that his dad, James Carlos Farrell grew up there.

Likely, Earl still had family there, but we're not sure. And so we don't know if he did, if he visited them. But he did visit some other people, unfortunately. Be it to Withers was a landlady with a vacancy in Portland. She was quite a bit younger than most of Nelson's victims at 35. Her poor 15-year-old son came home to find his mother's dead body, crammed into a steamer trunk hidden underneath clothing and on top of stacks of her own saved love letters.

She had, like the other's been strangled, and then her body was sexually assaulted. Earl, if this was in fact Earl, investigators strongly believed it was, very quick to strike again. The very next day, 55-year-old Virginia Grant showed Nelson a vacant property. She had on East 22nd Street in Portland. I'm guessing you know exactly what happened next.

Yep. He strangled her, then sexually assaulted her corpse, then hid her body behind the furnace in the basement. The next day would be Earl Nelson's last in Portland. He would kill again, three women and three days. On October 21st, 1926, he visited the home of another landlady, 37-year-old Mabel Fluke, another woman decades younger than his typical victim. She was again a woman with rooms to rent, and his method would be the same. Nelson either took her to the attic or talked her into visiting the attic.

with him. Once there, he strangled her with a scarf, then raped her dead body and left it there before returning to the Bay Area. Nelson back in San Francisco by November 18th. That day, he visited the boarding house of 56-year-old Anna Edmunds and yet again strangled her before sexually assaulting her body. Dude did not varyate from his M.O. Then hid her nude corpse under a bed before he left. Initially, police were hesitant to attribute her killing to the dark strangler for reasons unknown. However, several days after her murder, a friend of Edmonds told police that she had stopped by Anna's home on the day of her murder and found Edmonds talking to a strange man in her parlor about a business deal that involved selling her house. The woman's description of this unknown man matched those of the dark strangler, aka the fucking gorilla man. The day after Anna's murder on November 19th in nearby Burlingame, California, less than 20 miles south of San Francisco, an unnamed 28-year-old pregnant woman was attacked while showing her home to a man posing as a potential buyer.

she would survive the attack and describe the man as being around five foot eight inches tall, Earl, just over five, five without shoes, said he was well-dressed, well-spoken. The woman later told reporters that, though she hadn't felt threatened initially, she realized in retrospect that peculiarly the man had commented on the home's intricate details, particularly the ceiling a lot. Quote, I realize now that he was trying to get me to look up towards the ceiling so that he could get behind me and grab my throat. The press now ran more articles about the serial killer still being active and women in the Bay Area, especially middle-aged landladys, more terrified than ever.

They didn't have to worry, though. Nelson had left the area again, and this time it'll be for good. He will now be other cities' problems. He first traveled north to Seattle, a mere five days after his most recent killing. On November 23rd, he visited the home of 65-year-old wealthy widow Florence Monks, asking, of course, about a room. Then he strangled her, raped her corpse, ransacked her house, and quickly fled the city. Six days later, November 29, 1926, Nelson back in Portland for his final confirmed murder there. He visited the home of 48-year-old Blanche Myers asking again about a room. And again, strangled her and raped her corpse. Sometime in the following days or weeks, she gave birth to that dreaded zombie baby.

And that baby wanted to find his daddy. And zombie babies grow up very fast. He was full grown in three days. And now the gorilla man had another reason to keep on running. Baby boy was coming for him. He wanted to hold daddy down and fuck his syphilitic butthole because then Earl would become the zombie. And he would live forever! I'm fucking kidding me.

I said, I'm fucking kidding. Okay, Miles, yeah, that was probably a little bit too crazy. No, sometime in the following days or weeks. Earl fled the Pacific Northwest and headed west. Excuse me, headed east. the opposite of West. He fled the Pacific Northwest and just started fucking swimming

across the Pacific. No one would stop him from making it to Japan. No, not having any idea exactly where or even who he was and in hopes of preventing further murders law enforcement of both California and Oregon

issued public safety announcements to citizens. In the San Francisco Bay Area, women described as elderly in a press release, were advised to take precautions while renting rooms and inviting strangers

into their homes. Meanwhile, the Portland Police Bureau issued the following statement to the public. Do not show your houses or rooms for rent while alone. If necessary, call a policeman to accompany you. Crimes such as these should be prevented and could have been prevented if women had been more careful. I do not wish to unduly alarm the people of Portland,

but there is no denying the situation is grave. Dude has women in multiple West Coast cities terrified. But now, he is a long ways away. By late December, Nelson was in Iowa. And on December 23rd, just two days before Christmas, this fucking ghoul was in Council Bluffs where he attacked, then strangled to death with her own shirt, then of course

sexually assaulted the fresh corpse of 41-year-old Almira Barard in her own home. Initially, a local police presumed her death to be a suicide, but Barard because Barraud had recently been discharged from a psychiatric facility. That was dismissed, though, after it was discovered she had been raped post-mortem.

Just four days later, Nelson made it to Kansas City, Missouri, where he attacked a much young hunger victim. He used some of the victim's clothing to strangle 23-year-old Bonnie Pace, Bonnie living in a rooming house with her husband that Nelson happened to stop in. Nelson killed her while her husband was at work, then sexually assaulted her body after her death. The poor husband discovered what had happened when he came home. On a real fucking rampage, Nelson attacked again in Kansas City the very next day, the 28th, just three days after Christmas now, he visited the home of 28-year-old Germania Harpen, who was advertising a room for rent.

Germania, home alone with her eight-month-old baby boy, Robert, while her husband, like with the previous victim, was at work. And this time, Nelson, even more debauchous. He strangled both Germania and baby Robert, who was only eight months old, which I guess I just mentioned. Nelson then raped Germania, but not the baby it seems, after death. Maria Harpin, a French war veteran, discovered the dead bodies of his wife and child when he got home from work.

Harpen told the police he found the two dead, amid the scene of a terrific struggle. My God. How does something like that not just break you? After these two additional brutal murders, Nelson completely disappeared for a few months. He popped back up into historical records further east. On April 27, 1927, the psychotic gorilla

showed up at the Philadelphia home of 53-year-old Mary McConnell. Mary and her husband had been trying to sell their home and had a sale sign hung in the window. Nelson knocked on the door, pretending to be a bar. Bible salesman, true to form, he then strangled Mary, and once she was dead, sexually assaulted her corpse. Have we ever covered someone who has had sex with this money corpses of murder victims before? I don't think so.

A month later, Nelson popped up in Buffalo, New York, where he rented a room from 53-year-old Jenny Randolph under the name of Charles Harrison now. Jenny had recently lost her son. She had begun working at the YMCA, renting out rooms in her house to make extra income. her brother, Gideon Gillette, the first to meet Charles Harrison when he arrived. Short time later, once Gideon was out of the house and Nelson had had Jenny alone,

he predictably strangled her, raped her dead body, then hid her corpse under a bed. Then that creepy motherfucker quickly fled the city. Nelson was already in Detroit, Michigan, two days later, June 1st, where he visited another boarding house. This one managed by 53-year-old Fannie Mae,

our third Fannie in this suck. Fourth, I think, if you count the fake mom, Earl Mayton. when he got married. That has to be a record. So much Fannie, so much syphilis, so much necrophilia. What a tale. This will be another double homicide, the first involving two women. After Nelson entered the house, he murdered Fannie Mae and a 29-year-old tenant of hers named Marine Oswald Atorthy. The two women both strangled with the same electrical cord he had cut loose from a lamp. Both women sexually assaulted after death, my God. Like he had on occasion done before, Nelson

ransacked the house before fleeing. he again not only fled the scene, but the whole state. The two women's bodies found by the building owner, Leonard Sink, who had arrived to collect rent funds from May. Two days later, June 3rd, dude was moving. Nelson already in Chicago, where he will commit his last known confirmed murder in the U.S. That double kill and double active necrophilia just, I guess, didn't satisfy him for very long. On the third, Nelson visited the home of 29-year-old Mary Sietma in her home,

excuse me, seat sma, when her husband returned home that evening, he found Mary's body on the floor with another electrical cord in this instance wrapped around her neck. Nelson also stole several articles of men's clothing from the Seatsma home, then fled north hitchhiking

and hopping trains and riding the rails. The last known siding in the U.S. of Earl Nelson occurred five days later, June 8th at roughly 8 a.m. He was in a little 1,500-ish person town of Warren, Minnesota, when a man named William Chandler picked him up on the side of the road.

Chandler was returning home to Winnipeg up in Canada from a trip down in Detroit with his wife and 12-year-old son. Nelson was wearing a blue suit, a distinctive red sweater, a gray hat, light tan sandals, and holding the Bible when Chandler spotted him. Nelson rode with Chandler for about 60 miles, said next to nothing, never looked him in the eye, but did offer him a cigarette when Chandler went to light his pipe. When they arrived at the border just before Chandler pulled into the area for customs, Nelson asked him to stop as, quote, this was about far enough for him. When Chandler stopped, Nelson hopped off the car after mumbling a brief word of thanks, then he walked off in the direction of the railroad.

We have no evidence as to whether he checked in at the border crossing and what he said to officials there, but obviously the more likely scenario is that he just walked over the line or jumped on a train or at some stage without going through customs. As far as we know, this was the first time he had ever been outside the U.S. Nelson was picked up in the Canadian

inside of the border by John and Harriet Hanna, a married couple at 11 a.m. And they gave him a ride to Winnipeg, roughly 34 miles away. According to their later testimony, they had virtually no conversation with a stranger in the back seat on the trip. Mrs. Hanna tried to engage with him. He stated that he lived in Winnipeg. But when asked what street he lived on, he gave the name of a street that she had never heard of because it did not exist. The couple then dropped Nelson off at the Corden-Pemina interchange, which was known at the time, apparently, as one of Winnipeg's more infamous, quote,

confusion corners. It was, maybe still is, a five-street junction with major street arteries going off in odd directions. Nelson walked about a mile and a half to 218 Main Street, where he then visited Mr. Garber's second-hand store. There, he negotiated a trade of clothing of sorts that ended with Garber buying from Nelson everything he was wearing. This again was the fancy sweater, the sandals, a cap, a blue suit, shit that did not fit in very well because he'd stolen it from the seats in a home after murdering and raping the wife of the man the clothes belonged to. Garber ended up selling to Nelson a herringbone blue jacket coat with one button missing, a pair of black boots, a cheap pair of gray cottonade pants,

a belt, and a gray felt hat. Garber bought Nelson's clothes for $4, sold him the other clothes for $3, so he then handed Nelson the difference, which was a single dollar bill. Nelson signed the receipt log as John Kavanaugh, 87 Plainsfield, Winnipeg. age 32 height five feet five and a half inches beard none dress blue uh nelson began walking after this when he came across a house advertising a room for rent at approximately six p m he knocked the door of one 33 smith street or the hills ran a rooming house katherine hill was just a few days short of her 71st birthday uh she was a large woman with arthritis nelson introduced himself to her as mr woodcoats he's really uh you know he's got some some some interesting aliases

now just really kind of burning through them. Catherine offered Woodcoats a room for $3 a week. He agreed, then gave her that dollar he had just gotten as a deposit and took the room. He said he'd give her the other two dollars once he got paid from a job he did not have. He lied again, said he was working at a building in St. Boniface. Mrs. Hill said, now mind, I don't allow my rumors to bring any girls or liquor to their rooms. And Woodcoats allegedly replied, oh no, I wouldn't think of anything like that.

I'm a religious man. I'm a Roman Catholic. Or according to another newspaper, Woodcoat said, quote, no fucking way, grandma. You don't liquor or do girls when you got that cock rock which doesn't thrive,

DFT, dermofusion technology, baby zombie pull out patches! If you're not thriving, you'll die in! No. No, he didn't say that. He said, good. I want quiet surroundings where I can reflect. A man with Christ in his heart

need worry about nothing else. all right. Mrs. Hill claimed to have then sat on the edge of the bed in the room for about an hour and a half, talking to woodcoats, or sorry, half an hour, not an hour and a half. It's a little different. Before going downstairs, she would not seem again until the next day. We don't know what Nelson did after this on his first night in Winnipeg, but we do know what he did the next night.

Not good. 13-year-old Lola Cohen lived about six blocks west of the Smith Street rooming house. She was spending the day going door to door in the neighborhood, selling paper flowers she had made. adorable and not just cute but necessary. Lola's father, John, had recently suffered from some appendicitis, had been hospitalized for a few weeks, with him not being able to work, her family desperately needed money, Lola doing her best to contribute. When she arrived at the rooming house, sometime after 9.15 p.m. that night, she did not get the help she sought.

She tragically met a very violent end. Even though she was so young, Nelson, alone with her, apparently could not pass up the opportunity to strangle, well, a girl, in this instance, a girl not even close to being a woman. And after she was dead, he sexually assaulted her body, then shoved her corpse under his bed. And then just fucking went to sleep there. That fucking psychopaths, yeah, made the bed, cleaned up. Well, he did leave for a little bit, but then he came back and went to sleep.

Lola finishing up the fifth grade when she died. She was described as a pleasant girl, big for her age, popular with classmates and with her teacher and an accomplished student. After school, she often played baseball with a group of friends at the playground at the school before heading home. William Fillingham, a private investigator, was living nearby at 405 Broadway, about three blocks away from Smith Street. He claimed that he was riding in his drawing room at about 9.15 p.m. when he heard a knock on his door. He said he opened the door to find a girl selling what appeared to him to be four bunches of artificial sweet peas contained in a little tin box.

Fillingham questioned the girl. She told him her age and name and that she was selling flowers to support her sick father. he allegedly told her, quote, Owing to her young age and late time of night, he would not purchase these flowers and advised her to go home, saying that she wouldn't sell many flowers at this time of night to other people at such a late hour. Damn it, if she would have only listened. The anxious father of Lola, John Cohen, went to Mulvey School

where Lola was a student the morning of Friday, June 10th, 1927, to find out if any of Lola's friends could explain why she hadn't come home. When no explanation was forthcoming, he contacted the city police and filed a missing person's report. Poor bastard. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hill went to Woodcoats' room at 133 Smith Street that morning. The room was tidy. The bed was made. The towel undisturbed from where she had left it the day before. She dusted around it a little, didn't look under the bed, and thus did not find the body and alert authorities. Meanwhile, Nelson outwalk in the streets of Winnipeg that Friday morning. Some people later reported that he was knocking door to door, saying he was selling powdered soap. Yeah, fuck it, why not?

whatever allowed him to talk to women who might, you know, be home alone, let him in. At some point, we don't know when. He arrived at the Patterson House at 100 Riverton Avenue, wearing the clothes he had purchased from Garber's the day before. He was invited into the home by 27-year-old Emily Patterson. Shortly thereafter, Nelson strangled and assaulted Emily

with a fucking claw hammer. After bludging her to death this time, a much messier way to kill somebody, he still raped her corpse, then stuffed her body under her bed after stealing her plain gold wedding ring. Nelson then began to search the house. He stole several items, including, quote,

three-piece brown whip-cord suit, coat, vest, and pants, with braces attached to the pants, a fountain pen slash pencil stub, a cigarette case with Mr. Patterson's initials on it, a little maple leaf stick pin inside the cigarette case, the family Bible, some pictures and correspondence, and the family's life savings in the form of $70 in crisp $10 bills.

Nelson then changed into the stolen suit before he left the Patterson home. following another brutal murder. Nelson headed into a secondhand store at 629 Main Street, ran by Mr. Sam Waldman, where he bought a completely new outfit using the money he had just taken from the Patterson's. This guy's a fucking maniac.

Nelson purchased underwear, a top shirt, a necktie, a light gray overcoat, a light gray summer two-piece soup, a fawn-colored v-neck sweater, a white scarf, a cream-colored cap with the name of Waldom on the label, a belt with a blue-and-white stripe, and brown bulldog-style shoes,

whatever the hell that style is. He spent $30 to the same. stolen $70 on all that shit. Nelson then left Mr. Patterson's clothes with the fountain pen, pencil stubs, and cigarette case in the pockets at Walden's store saying he called back later to pick him up. They had to have been like, okay, that's weird that you just don't take him with you, but all right. Nelson also hid the Patterson's Bible and some photos on a shelf in the store before he walked out and then over to a barber across the street and got himself a shave.

After that, he walked past a place called Chevriets, a men's clothing store, where he saw Another fancy cream-colored hat with the store's name on the brand or excuse me on the band displayed in the window. Had to have it. Even though he had just bought a similar hat, dude doesn't give a fuck,

clearly that he has just killed so many people, doesn't appear to be upset in the slightest, just happy to have some extra money. So he goes in, buys that hat for $4.50. After Nelson left the store, he ran into a Hutter Wright couple, John Hoffer and his wife on a streetcar.

Hutter Wright's a communal Christian sect of anti-baptists, or Anabaptist, rather, excuse me, sharing roots with the Amish and the Mennonites. Nelson helped them make change for the ride, such a sweetheart. Then chatted him up for a bit. Hoffers wanted to go into a store to buy some candy. So Nelson went in with them and he bought himself a Coca-Cola.

And he paid for Mr. Hofer's lemon drink. What a peach melba of a guy. Very generous. While they drank their drinks, Nelson told the couple, as they would tell investigators later, I am sometimes drinking too much. And I'm coming out here to have a rest. That I could not stop it. Satan had too much power over an educated man.

I wish I could not be educated. Well, that's a fun and normal thing to say. That's a mentally sound thing to say. Once they were done, Nelson decided to hitchhike. And then he invited Mr. and Mrs. Hofer to go get in a car with him to stop for him. And for reasons, I do not understand they fucking did. In the car, Nelson then gave the hofers a box containing his new fancy hat. The first fancy hat, fancy hat, actually he'd purchased back at Waldman's.

Or Walden's. Mrs. Hofer opened the box and after some discussion about the fact that Mr. Hofer could not wear that sort of hat due to his religious beliefs, they politely decided that they would still accept the gift of the cap. They would just find somebody else who might use it.

Well, that's lovely. We have a real meeting of the minds here. Then the Hofer's got out of the car and hitchhiked toward vagina and then they parted ways. And yes, there was a city in Canada that is pronounced exactly like vagina, but with an arm. About 6.30 p.m. that evening, poor Mr. William Patterson,

husband of Nelson's most recent victim, his wife Emily, returned home to find his wife missing. The Patterson's had just moved to Canada from Ireland the year before. If the Patterson's had left the violence of Ireland hoping for peace in Canada, well, their hopes were dashed that day.

Based on information provided by the now defunct Winnipeg Tribune newspaper, were told that William Patterson arrived in Winnipeg first in May of 1926. He quickly secured a position as an entry-level clerk in the dispatch department of the T. Eaton company. he then sent for his wife and boys who arrived in August that year

after crossed the Atlantic on a big old ship they first lived at a number of places on Ross Avenue and Elgin Avenue before rent in the house at 100 Riverton May 15th, 1927 hadn't even been in that home for a month. It was a small, sparsely furnished bungalow with five rooms. Apparently the Patterson's had no relatives in the city but they were already both very active at the St. Andrews Church where Mrs. Patterson took part in the Ladies' Aid Society

and Mr. Patterson sang in the choir. When Mr. Patterson arrived home at about 6.30 in the evening, as I mentioned, and did not find his wife and children at home, or I think I mentioned that, he was not anxious at first thinking that his wife had gone to visit friends before the lady next door, Mrs. Stanger, brought the kids over at 7.30. Patterson later said, the lady brought them in from next door and told me that my wife had left them there, that she was going out. I then asked the kitties, had they had tea, and they said no, so I made them supper.

Mr. Patterson put the two boys to bed around 9 o'clock, put the youngest boy to sleep in the parental bedroom, and the older one to sleep in the kid's bedroom. At half past 10, he became very anxious because his wife had never been out later than that. Not having a phone in the house, he went to the lady next door's house, rang up the police station,

asking if any lady had met with an accident. He was told that no lady had an accident, so he went back to his house. At around 11 p.m., he grew more worried, when he discovered that a suitcase belonging to him had been tampered with. The right lock had been sprung open. He got the keys to the suitcase, opened it up, discovered that their savings, $50 to $70. He wasn't exactly sure the amount, had been stolen, as had a Bible, letters and photographs, and a cigarette case with a stick

pin inside. Even more upsetting, a claw hammer had been put inside the suitcase, a hammer that did belong to Mr. Patterson, but one that had previously not been in the suitcase. And now he felt sick, as what I. Then at around a little, 1145, now very, very worried. He went into the bedroom. He shared with his wife, knelt beside the bed to pray for guidance and finding her. As Patterson put it, he prayed, quote,

that God would direct me to where my wife was and enlighten me as to the events I had discovered. His youngest, a three-year-old boy, was asleep on the bed as he arose from his knees. His hand, quote, accidentally or providentially, touched something under the bed, and he pulled this thing out. It turned out to be the sleeve of his wife's coat.

Then he looked under the bed, saw the bloody abused body of his wife. Poor bastard then barely managed to reach the neighbor's house to tell them of this terrible discovery so they could then call the police before he collapsed and was temporarily inconsolable. Good God. The police would arrive around midnight.

I was able to find a crime scene photo of Mrs. Patterson when they took her out from under the bed and yeah, pretty fucking terrible. She'd been beaten along the top of her head with the hammer savagely, a lot of blood. When 45-year-old chief detective George Smith spoke with the corner hours later and was told Emily had definitely also been strangled and raped post-mortem

in addition to being bludgeoned, he supposedly said, boys, this is the work of the strangler, referring to the American serial killer from the West Coast, news of which had traveled to Manitoba. This guy not well-known at all today, but he was very well-known then, the Ted Bundy of the 1920s, minus the charm, wit, and good looks that that evil fuck had.

We don't know exactly what else Earl Nelson did that Friday night. But the next day, on Saturday, June 11th, 1927, around 3 p.m., we know that Earl was far from Winnipeg because that was when he knocked on the door of Mrs. Mary Row, age unknown, at 1852 Lawrence Street in Regina. He is now 350 miles approximately from the scenes of his most recent violent crimes. Before he left Winnipeg that morning, Fred England, a local jeweler in Winnipeg, had unknowingly purchased Patterson's wedding ring from Nelson for $3.50 as he would later testify. The rooming house Nelson now found himself in was in the heart of downtown Regina,

close to Victoria Park. Nelson gave the name Harry Harcourt to marry, asked her to rent a room for a week. Does not attack her. The next day, Sunday, June 12th, by pure chance, Captain Duncan Matheson of the San Francisco Police Department is passing through Winnipeg

on his way from a police chief convention in Windsor, Ontario. What a fucking crazy coincidence. He meets with the Canadian police, and if Chief Detective George Smith had not actually connected Emily's murder, to the dark strangler's crimes before he did now. Then at about 6.30 p.m. that day at the Hill Room Boarding House on Spring Street,

a new tenant named Mr. Mortensen discovered the naked dead body of a young girl under his bed in the same room that had been rented to woodcoats. There was, of course, the body of 13-year-old Lola Cohen. Extra sad this Sunday, the day her body was found was Lola's 14th birthday. Some sources say that unlike that of his other victims, her body had been mutilated in a manner, quote, reminiscent of the victims of Jack the Ripper. Her clothing and belongings were missing. It was evidence that the bed had been slept in, leading police to determine that Nelson had spent the night,

sleeping with her corpse beneath the bed. A dude getting more and more depraved, which is generally how it goes. Shortly after this, while thousands of Winnipeg citizens are listening to the evening church service on the radio, they hear the service interrupted by an emergency police bulletin, announcing the discovery of the second murder. The bulletin said, Be on the watch for a man considered to be between 26 and 30 years of age,

about 5 foot 6 or 7 inches tall and weighing about 150 pounds. Large dark eyes, full face, salo complexion, clean-shaven, Jewish or Italian appearance, but might be any nationality. He speaks good English.

He was seen and identified wearing a light gray suit, neatly dressed, shortly after the murder of Mrs. Patterson, Friday. News of the murders being connected to the guerrilla strangler make headlines all across can.

Canada, causing Nelson to flee from Regina. On Tuesday, June 14th, 1927, he hit the road, took a job with the dude named Isidora Silverman, a junk dealer who was traveling around Canada collecting pieces of lead, boxing them up, putting him in his car, then periodically taking them to a train station and shipping them off. Yeah, that's totally normal. I can see why he offered early job. How perfect this is already so brain damaged dude is now working with lead. Nelson will stay with Silverman on the road for two days.

oh, the conversations those two must have had. During that time, a $1,500 reward for Earl Nelson's capture is made public. Then while he's out finding pieces of lead, I guess, on Wednesday, June 14th, Nelson decided he wanted to head back down into the U.S. and attempted to buy a train ticket at the Killarney train station in Ontario. There, he is recognized by locals, thanks to all the media coverage, and an angry mob forms, chases him down, holds and probably beats him, at least a little while, and he's arrested.

He gives law enforcement the name now of Virgil Wilson. So many names. And Wilson is now placed in the very small local jail. This town had less than 400 people in it. And this fucking maniac is smart enough to find a metal file that just happened to be laying around the holding area. But why was that there? And that night, that very night,

he managed to file his way through a prison bar and escape. Canadian law enforcement, once again, is looking pretty cartoonishly terrible. luckily because Nelson was an imbecile, despite being very good at escaping from places, his crazy ass goes right back to the same fucking train station where the mob had formed. And the mob forms another mob forms. The next morning, June 16th. Seriously, of course they do.

They immediately recognize him again. They chase him down again, hold him down again, he's arrested again. But this time, the train he's trying to catch is transporting members of the Winnipeg Police Force who are coming to track him down. So now he is not put back in that tiny, easy to escape from a jail cell. He gets train ride after all. He is taken, guarded by over a dozen officers, to the Rupert Street police station in Winnipeg,

where he will be charged, fingerprinted, and put through lineups for witness identification. There will be more than 4,000 looky-loos waiting to see him brought to justice when he arrives at that train station. Though he maintained that his identity was that of Virgil Wilson, fingerprints forwarded to Winnipeg from the San Francisco Police Department,

from his earlier arrest confirm his identity as Earl Nelson. Nelson's fingerprints matched those left behind at several of the crime scenes and his teeth matched marks found on some of the victims. Apparently he liked to bite a number of them while raping their bodies after death.

God, they fucking finally got this guy. They got this guy for killing and raping his victim's corpses. Initially, Nelson admitted to his crimes, bluntly telling reporters, I only do my lady killings on Saturday nights. But then he would later retract his admission and claim he was innocent. During an interview with the Manitoba Free Press,

shortly after his arrest, he said, I'm charged with two murders, but I'm not the one who done it. When asked about the various persons in the U.S. and Canada who had positively identified him as the strangler, he simply responded, all of them are wrong. Despite attempts, I'm part of both U.S. and Canadian law enforcement agencies

to elicit confessions, Nelson refused to admit to any of the murders in which he was suspected or accused. He was now held to be tried in Manitoba court for the murders of both Cowan and Patterson. Earl Nelson's trial began in Winnipeg for these two murders less than five months later. Earl's Aunt Lillian and his wife, Mary Fuller, still loving that she kept that fake surname, both came to Canada to testify that he should not be executed because he was too insane

to be held fully responsible for his crimes. His lawyer had chosen to not argue Earl's innocence, but rather that he could not be found completely culpable as he was not mentally competent. over the course of only four days. Trials, even big murder trials, so much faster back then. The court heard from various witnesses about Earl Nelson's history and actions

since arriving in Canada and from all over the U.S. as well. Over 60 individuals from both Canada and the U.S. testified many placing Nelson at the scenes of various crimes or linking him to property stolen from victims' homes. Also, a jail guard who oversaw Nelson throughout his trial, noted that he spent most of his time now obsessively reading the Bible. Nice try, dude.

Not going to get you out of this one. We've already heard a lot of the testimony over the course of this episode in the form of quotes about Earl from his sister-aunt and from his wife, so I won't share any more. The jury headed into deliberations at 1116 a.m. November 5th, 1927, they return with the decision less than an hour later at 1150 a.m. The clerk asked, gentlemen, have you agreed upon your verdict? If so, who speaks for you? Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty? George P. Bond, a 60-year-old farmer, who is the former of the jury, quietly announced the verdict of, guilty, my lord. Ooh, my lord, I like that. So medieval.

Guilty, my lord. The rest of the jury agreed that the verdict had been unanimous. When giving Nelson the sentence, the judge said, you've been found guilty of a very cruel murder by the jury after as fair a trial as we have been able to give you. I won't add anything to your present situation by any remarks upon the terrible crime. The sentence of the court is that you be taken to the place from whence you came, and that you be there confined until Friday, the 13th day of January 1928, and upon that day between the hours of 6 o'clock in the forenoon and 8 o'clock in the forenoon, you be taken from

the place of confinement to the place of execution, and that you be then and there hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may God have mercy on your soul. Nelson was asked by the judge, if he'd like to make a statement. He responded, and I love this because it is so on brand. In a nonchalant tone, he apparently said, no, not that I know of. Not that I know of? Oh, he was so bad shit.

You have been sentenced to death. Would you like to say anything? Um, uh, do you know what I'm gonna be having for dinner tonight? What? No. Um, bummer. I'm really hoping his spaghetti. Do you have anything else you'd like to say?

Not that I know of. Nelson's been the next two months on death row, trying to convince the courts to grant him clemency. He said he would totally devote his life to religion, should he be given another chance, and definitely not strangle anymore women or girls, or killing babies, or bite and rape any bodies,

not even one single time. His trial lawyer submitted a document to the court asking for an appeal on the grounds that Nelson was insane and that his personal history had been unfairly presented to the jury via the press. The courts were not swayed. Good.

Yeah, he was obviously, obviously very insane, but he also needed to be executed before he escaped again and went on another murder spree and viciously took more lives, which he 100% would have definitely done. Soon it was Friday, January 13th, 1928. The day was warmer than a typical Winnipeg day in mid-January would be, and a warm spring-like thaw had started several days earlier. Much of the snow had been melted. A group of about 50 people gathered at the Vaughn Street jailed in Winnipeg to bear witness to the execution of Earl Nelson. Several witnesses were issued tickets to a attend by the sheriff, and they crowded around the actual gallows.

At 7.30 a.m. Earl Leonard Nelson was brought out by two guards. They were accompanied by two priests as well. Nelson gave his last words. Uh, you know what I'm, you know what I'm having for dinner tonight? A home is spaghetti. Well, whatever. If it's not, then, you know, I guess, I don't have anything else to say that I know of. No, he said, uh, I declare my innocence before God and before man. I forgive those who have harmed me. and I asked forgiveness of those whom I have harmed May God have mercy on my soul Again, he was nuts

Dude just said he was innocent Then said he forgave those who harmed him Then admitted he had harmed people Then asked for his soul to receive mercy He would have never been safe To have just be out in society Earl Nelson died by hanging Was pronounced dead at 7.52 a.m.

He was only 30 years old. He had been positive connected to at least 22 murder victims but there are seven more he was strongly suspected of committing with such little information remaining regarding those crimes you know it'll likely never be proven conclusively that he committed those murders and that brings us to the end of today's time suck timeline good job soldier you've made it back

barely pretty clear that Earl Nelson had some serious mental health issues let's talk about that for a bit before wrapping up or talk around that I guess before his murders rampaged Nelson was institutionalized multiple times often had notes that said he was responding well to treatment, but what did that even mean? What was treatment like in the 1920s in the U.S.? Just a few decades before Earl Nelson was born,

the U.S. turned towards large state-run mental health asylums or hospitals by 1890. Every state had at least one such institution operating. Historian Eli Zaretsky has explained a little of what the landscape of mental health looked like in the 1920s, mental health care, in an article for psychology today. Zaretskyy says, through the 1920s, psychoanalysis in America, quote,

was caught up in a process that emphasized personal empowerment, self-regulation, and individual charisma. The field's purpose was reorienting towards productivity and improvement, which I guess it still kind of is, but not totally. More about self-actualization now, I guess. American psychoanalysis rode the wave of professionalization, scientism, and the growth of a mass culture characteristic of the second industrial revolution, as medical doctors desired to put amateurs practicing in quasi-psychological

techniques like mesmerism, homeopathy, and various other mind cures out of business for good. Oh man, if only quacks could ever truly be eliminated. It feels like there's been a rise of quackery the past several years, doesn't it? All these online truthers. Oh, just so much Kool-Aid in their eyes, right? They got weekend certifications from fucking diploma mills if they have any formal education in their field at all, which I guess that would even qualify as formal education. It's just spouted all kinds of silly, often dangerous bullshit.

Anyway, what that meant in practice back in the 1920s were the institutions were trying new forms of therapies that were not always beneficial for patients. A few prevalent treatments done at Napa State included hydrotherapy, sterilization, and malaria fever therapy. Malaria fever therapy is interesting, possibly something that Earl experienced,

as it was commonly used to treat syphilis, generally only used to treat late-stage neurocifalus, but not always. For the 1920s into the 1950s, prior to the introduction of penicillin, malaria-induced fevers were used as a treatment for primarily neurocophilus because the spiking fevers associated with malaria killed the bacteria that caused a syphilitic infection. This treatment killed an estimated 10 to 15% of the patients who received it. That was seen as an acceptable risk because syphilis would kill them if it didn't work. In addition to the 10 to 15% of people who died, an untold amount of patients would, which are not seen as an acceptable risk. suffer some form of brain damage from the insanely high fevers they were getting from this.

Lebotomies were not given out yet, so he didn't get one of those. Probably would have been better for his victims if he had received one. Early crude versions of electroshock therapy didn't quite yet exist either, so that did not happen to him. There also were not yet any medications to treat depression or other specific mental disorders during the 1920s. Practically the only drugs used as sedatives and hypnotics were barbiturates. after 1915 the hypnotic properties of some barbiturates were rapidly applied to the treatment of psychotic patients

thanks to the induction of a state of deep and prolonged sleep. Based on some other notes from Nelson's days of the asylum, he likely had a mix of most of these therapies. None of it would have helped him. Some of it might have made it worse. He also might have truly been untreatable due to significant brain damage. In summary, if it was even theoretically possible to help Earl Nelson, you know, not become the monster he became, it wasn't possible back then, you know, or it wasn't possible to fix the monster he became.

So glad Canada finally gave him the only treatment that was going to really cure his insanity, that type of insanity he had back then, which was death. You can't treat a rabid dog and make them not bite. And you cannot rehabilitate certain motherfuckers like Earl Nelson and make them, you know, not well, bite as well, I guess. I still think the most merciful thing for everyone in certain situations like these is state-sanctioned euthanasia.

Now let's wrap up this deep dive on the man labeled by many as the first known serial sex murder of the 20th century with today's top five takeaways. Time shock. Top five takeaways. Number one, Earl Nelson, born Earl Farrell, made an orphan before he was two years old, lost both parents to untreated syphilis. Earl himself would test positive for syphilis at least twice during his involuntary commitments. Number two, Nelson had a major head injury when he was just 10 years old.

He was struck by a streetcar while riding a bicycle that maybe he made. He was concussed and, quote, out of his head for five or six days afterwards. Nelson would allegedly have spells of dizziness and headaches for the rest of his life. While correlation does not, you know, prove causation. One 2025 study indicated that, quote, 80% of the most high-profile serial killers have had significant brain injuries. Number three, Earl Nelson lived to the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and subsequent fire. To this day, the disaster remains one of the worst American disasters, natural or man-made.

The death toll remains the greatest loss of life from a natural disaster in California history. The Nelson family home was not completely destroyed, but the family still had to live where 80% of the city was completely destroyed and more than 3,000 people had died. Number four, Earl Nelson had the kind of modus operandi. you might see on an especially dark episode of Law and Order. He primarily went after middle-aged women who were advertising rooms for rent in their homes or apartment buildings, women who were a similar age to his much older wife. Also worth noting that his wife was similar in age to his aunt Lillian who helped raise Earl and to his grandma who helped raise him.

I mean, not like, I mean, the grandma was a little older, but closer to her age than to his age. Once he had a victim, he typically would strangle them and sexually assault their corpse, which sometimes included biting them. Number five, new info. While the story of Earl Nelson has mostly flown under the true crime radar these days, it was the inspiration for an Alfred Hitchcock film, 1943's Shadow of a Doubt, starring Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotton. Film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Story.

Shadow of a Doubt was preserved in the U.S. National Film Registry by the Library of Congress in 1991, as it was deemed culturally, historically, historically, significantly significant. Hitchhawk himself, or Hitchhawk? Hitchcock himself once said shadow of doubt was his personal favorite of his own films. This project began when the head of David Selsnick's story department, Margaret MacDonald, who oversaw one of the most powerful and rigorously managed script development engines in Hollywood history, responsible for scouting literary properties and drafting screenplays for legendary films like Gone with the Wind and Rebecca,

told Hitchcock that her husband Gordon had an interesting idea for a novel that she thought would make a good movie. his idea called Uncle Charlie was based on the true story of Earl Nelson The film deviates quite a bit from the original idea for the story follows a teenage girl named Charlie who discovers her visiting Uncle Charlie is actually the Mary Widow murderer

or notorious serial killer played by Joseph Cotton Here's a quick monologue of Cotton's from the movie which makes it clear how little he values women At least some women, not much more than Nelson did Husbands who've spent their lives making fortunes working and working Then they die and leave their money to their wives, their silly wives. What do these useless women?

You see them in the hotels, the best hotels every day by the thousands. Drinking the money, eating the money, losing the money at Bridge, playing all day and all night, smelling of money. Proud of their jewelry, but of nothing else. Horrible. Fated, fat, greedy women. They're alive. They're human beings. Are they?

Are they human beings? Are they? Time suck. Top five takeaways. They are. They are human beings. The Dark Strangler, serial killer Earl Nelson, has been sucked. Thank you to the Bad Magic Productions team for helping making Time suck. Thanks to Queen of Bad Magic, Lindsay Cummins. Thanks also to Logan Keith helping to publish this episode and designing merch for the store as well.

Over there at bad magic productions.com, thank you to Heather Rylander for her initial research and thanks to the all-seen eyes. Moderating the cult of the curious private Facebook page, which has been just extra lovely lately. The Mod Squad, making sure Discord keeps running smooth and everybody over on the Time Sucks subreddit and Bad Magic Subreddit.

And now let's head over to a pretty special little set of Time Sucker updates. Get your Time Sucker updates. First up, a kick-ass law enforcement Sucker. Send in an email to Bojangles at timesuckpodcast.com with a subject line of a police officer's takeaway from the Stonewall Rights. Dear Dan, Lindsay, and everyone else at Bad Magic, they write, excuse me.

I just finished the suck on the Stonewall Rights and I have a message I'd like to share. I'm a police officer in Redacted. When I became a sworn officer and actually they wrote all these things, I just tried to be really careful about keeping his anonymity. when I became a sworn officer five years ago, I understood that I would see uncomfortable things, but nothing prepares you for the violence you will encounter. My first suicide call stays with me always.

The call came in that a family member had found their daughter dead in the basement. Instead, it looked like she had shot herself. I responded and got there within minutes. I even grabbed my gunshot wound kit in hopes of helping. I got inside the house and went downstairs. There I found a mother and sister crying. They directed me to the bedroom where their daughter was.

As I went in, I could tell my gun, shot wound kit would be no help. I told them to go upstairs and wait for me. I did the normal procedure and had medical personnel come into the room to confirm that she was dead. Once they did, I started to investigate. The first thing I noticed was the pride flag on the wall. There was a note. I read it. It was obviously written by someone hurting, someone struggling with their mental health. But the thing that stood out the most was the fear of society, the fear of changes it could affect her and her community. I went upstairs to speak to her family. When I got there, they asked if she was okay. It hit me then that they were still holding on to hope that their daughter was okay,

that the first responders had come and done what people expect and had saved a life. I had to tell them no. There was nothing we could do. That was my first death notification. I learned that they had been an extremely supportive family. It wasn't their fault, and they just wanted their daughter back. The point of telling this is I want folks to understand suicide is not the answer. There is someone who will miss you, someone who will wish you had not done that. Stay here. The second part of this message also relates to the Stonewall Rites.

There are people in society that will tell you violence towards the LGBT community, is not real anymore. I can tell you firsthand I've seen it. In redacted, I responded to assist with a redacted shooting. I saw the destruction one person could do to a group of people he hated. There was a bright side, though. As you probably know, the shooter was not killed that night. The folks that redacted made it easy and beat the shit out of him before the police got there.

Afterwards, I was a guard duty at the hospital. My job was not only making sure the shooter did not escape, but making sure no one could get to him to finish the job. Every nurse at the hospital wore a rainbow flag of some sort when they came into that room, and I could not have been more happy about it. Going to this shooting reminded me of why I became an officer, to help people that need help, to protect people that need protecting. No matter your race, gender, sexual orientation, or even citizen status, call and I will come running.

There are so many other officers like me. Don't believe the narrative that all cops are right-wing maga meatheads. Some of us are just meatheads with big hearts. Sorry if this email is long. When I first wrote it, it was almost three pages long. Thanks for keeping me going during long shifts, anonymous. P.S. Lindsay in August the last year after Bad Magic Summer Camp, I saw a post on Facebook in the summer camp group. It was of fuck pig stay wet.

and I saw that you had made a comment in support of it. I sent you a message that may have come across as rude, but please let me explain. I'd just been to an officer involved shooting where a guy had shot at me before other officers shot him. I was going through it mentally, trying to wrap my brain around the whole incident.

I don't know if you ever saw the message, but if you did, I'm sorry, if it came off as rude. Thank you again, Dan, for continuing to do this podcast. I've been a listener since day one. I've listened to your comedy since I was in high school. Sorry if the email doesn't read well. I may have had some adult drinks. write in this. Well, Anonymous, I just wanted to share this or include that part because I wanted to tell you that the fuck pigs stay wet comment had everything to do with how much literal bacon was eaten at camp and nothing to do with disrespected officers. Like absolutely truly. I wanted to make sure you knew that. Just a goofy joke about a chant that we started because we literally collectively ate more bacon way more than any other group of campers had ever eaten who had stayed there for the same amount of time. And I'm pretty sure we then broke that record by,

a lot the following year. And I plan on eating a fuck a load of bacon this year. Also, thank you for the reminder that there are so many great people everywhere, so many great officers out there who do care so much about so many different kinds of people, including people in the pride community. There are a lot of great meatheads out there. I'm a meathead. I fucking love lifting weights.

The most consistent hobby I've had since college. And thank you for sharing the, you know, the painful shit that you have seen that is so unnecessary. I just love getting your perspective. Thanks for your service. So much, truly. Please stay safe out there and please keep helping others stay safe. And now for another unexpected perspective. From a Christian sack, James Dowden, I think I'm saying your last name right, James. I hope so. Current ally, former enemy, someone rightfully proud of their evolution, their personal evolution. How do you suck master supreme, ruler of all things curious, James wrote. I just finished a Stonewall episode and learned some new things I hadn't known.

And it got me thinking about myself. A few years ago, I absolutely would have been one of the cops arresting people just because they were queer. I spent a long time with the very, quote, fuck the government, leave me alone and let me live mindset. But then I got caught up in politics. I ended up in an echo chamber, a chamber of far right ideology. I started doing the head nods, the yeah, that's right, agreements.

Started posting more political content on my TikTok page, the typical homophobic, transphobic, fuck the left drivel. See, I argued that my hate for homosexual people was because of having been violently raped by a man as a child while in foster care multiple times. That hate for him festered for years into a hate for all. That hate was fueled by an echo chamber

and became far-right anger. I'm ashamed of it. But alas, there is hope for even the furthest right or furthest left extremist idealist. Make no mistake, there are extremist radicals from all sides. Yes, there are. I found my faith in God again, this time as an adult with a better understanding of the world.

This time after years of therapy and counseling and self-reflection, and it finally took. I finally learned how to open my mind, how to understand the teachings of Jesus. I don't have to agree with how you live your life. I can love you as a person, as an individual, as a human fucking being. Are you gay, lesbian, trans, somewhere else in there? Cool. Who cares? It doesn't affect me. I couldn't care less.

Over the past year or so, my views have shifted exponentially. Actually, that's not fair to say. to shift with you before that. It was always just, eh, we'll agree to disagree, Danny Boy. Then they mostly shifted when my daughter was born in November of 2024. I realized how mistaken I was on so many things. And that's when the far right ideals started to crumble. The final nail on the political side, when the bullshit Trump has been doing became undeniable.

Jesus finding me, that was it. It is not my place to decide how you represent yourself, how you live your life, what gender you identify with, what your sexual orientation is. you, be true to who you are. Do not let an echo chamber and politics and the people around you dictate how you think because take it from a reformed man, it isn't fucking worth it.

My TikTok is still very active. I leave all videos I've ever posted up and will leave them up for as long as the page is active. It is a representation of how one can change, how their mindset can change, how their heart can change. If you want to check it out, it's blue underscore caller underscore dude.

God bless you, Suckmaster. thanks for me to voice a reason in a world of irrational thinking. Feel free to use my name. I don't care who knows who I am. James Dowden. James, I have not been very active on social media, especially TikTok for a while. Just got too busy with podcast content

and just had to pull back something and didn't want to burn myself out. But I did check out your page. And man, good for you. What a cool perspective you bring. I love seeing that evolution. Very against what so many people expect. Yeah, thanks for being so real,

being so vulnerable. Thanks for going to therapy. working on yourself, you're happier now. Clearly, you make other people happier now by not adding to all the hate, man. Talk about a win, win. Imagine that. Yeah. Yeah, I have leaned into hate in my past and moments, too. It doesn't feel good at all. I've been working lately on sharing my more vulnerable, sensitive side with people other than my wife and kids. Actually, for a long time, I didn't share it with anybody. Lindsay used to be like, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why can't you get emotional years ago? And then for a long time, she's like, it's okay. to show the kids that side and then I did and now I'm trying to do it, you know, hear a little bit as well. It's not easy for me. It feels awkward, but also feels very good. So much better to just be loving. And if the teachings of Christ are what got you there,

then I'm glad you found him. I don't need to push what has worked for me on everybody else and it sounds like you don't either. There is room for a lot of different beliefs. There is room for the pride community, for the Christian community, the loving, actually Christ-like Christian community that you are embodying.

Man, God bless you too, dude. And now one more. I'll get to more next week. So many incredible stories have come in. This one comes in from another sweet sucker. Hot damn, a strong mama. Julie Horning. How many times has Julie been teased about her last name?

Sent in a message with the subject line of tears of pride. Hello, Dan, and all of the bad magic family, Julie writes, after the latest episode on the Stonewall riots, I felt to need to reach out. I was raised in a narrow-minded, unforgiving church where being gay was considered an express ticket to hell. I had to doubt that, because some of the best people, the kindest people, the bravest people, I knew we're gay. They've been my friends for over 40 years now. Because of them, I have always considered myself an ally. Thirteen years ago, my son, who was assigned female at birth, came out as a trans man. I loved him just as much as I had the moment before he came out to me,

if not more. I am proud of the courage it took and the bravery he exhibits by living his truth. However, I also have a cousin who adopted a child 30 years ago because he and his wife were unable to conceive. We prayed for them to become parents and celebrated when they were selected to be parents of a little girl. However, that child also came out as a trans man. But my cousin and his wife turned their back on him. My cousin actually told his child to dump his girlfriend and to, quote, be the girl God created you to be or you were out of the family. They chose their truth and the woman they love. I have completely cut that cousin out of my life because of how they treated their child. I am telling you this because you had me crying and

you talked about your love for an acceptance of Monroe when she came out to you. I've seen both extremes of a child coming out to their parents, and I'm so glad that you shared your reaction to Monroe's truth. I'm so glad that both of us have children who felt safe to be their authentic selves with their parents. And on a lighter note, you talking about the accordion had me laughing because it brought back a memory. I used to live in Nampa, Idaho. I've been to Nampa many times. One day I'd gone to Walmart Nampa as I drove past the I-84 on-ramp. I saw a guy hitchhiking with an accordion. Went into the store, did my shopping and left. Once again, I drove by the on-ramp. where the accordion player was still waiting fruitlessly for a ride.

How strange that no one was willing to give him a lift. Can you imagine how long you'd have been standing there if he had been carrying a bagpipe? Thank you, for the knowledge, laughter, and kindness you share every week. Your loyal spaces are Julie. Oh, man, Julie, good on you. Thank you for being a loving, accepting mom. I feel so bad for kids who do not have parents like you in their lives.

You inspire me to try and help my game, right? Sometimes I worry. Sometimes I worry, I still lean too hard into the, it's my job to teach you lessons and prepare you for the horrid. of the real world, toughen you up, child, side of parenting, you know, trying to be a strong dad and all that, and there's value in that,

but maybe not leaning far enough into the, have got you. I'm always going to love you, be here for you, you know, sensitive side. I don't know, such a tricky balance, right? Thanks for sharing that loving message. Your cousin, right, they chose to be an asshole. And guess what?

Their son's still trans. The only thing they changed with their son was the relationship they used to have with him. Now it's all kinds of fucked up. Uh, what an accomplishment. Well, congratulations. Fucking look, yeah, what a great thing you did. Uh, and as far as the hitchhiker carrying an accordion,

if I had the time when it was alone, I think I might actually pick that motherfucker up. Because what is the backstory there? I want to know what's going on there. Why are you, why are you carrying accordion as you hitchhike? I feel like that's some shit. You think you see it on acid trip. Uh, thanks for the loving messages, everybody. Uh, I would share more, but I've been doing a bunch of family outings lately.

Got a little bit behind on content. been staying up, laid, cranking out a lot of stuff this week behind the scenes to catch up and I'm just currently too tired to give more messages the proper amount of thought. So next week, more great messages and thank you again. Time suckers, I needed that.

We all did. Well, thank you for listen to another bad magic productions podcast. Be sure in rate and reviewed time suck if you haven't already. Please do not strangle anyone and then have sex with a corpse this week. It's fucked up. Even if you pull out, instead of you know

fucking fresh corpses could you maybe just just keep on sucking and magic productions hey a quick question actually I'll whisper it so it'll just be our secrets forget what I said

forget what I said forget what I said about the don't fuck the corpses if you could make a zombie baby with a corpse but not not with somebody you killed just like a dead

a dead body you found for some reason would you impregnate it? Would you not pull out? Just for the chance to see an actual genuine fucking zombie and bring that Hollywood level of horridistopia to the real world. Would you be brave enough, strong enough to come inside a corpse vagina? Would you have the mental fortitude, the vision, the cahones,

to do what it takes, to maybe kick off a zombie apocalypse, or at least see some really cool shit? I think I would. I think I would. I know I would. I fucking know I would. I'd come inside that corpse Of someone I didn't kill

Or even help die Or even stand by and watch While somebody else killed them I'm not a fuck I'm not creep I'm just willing to boldly go Where you know I guess Maybe a lot of other creeps have gone before

I guess I don't know