My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 251

Episode Date: November 1, 2021

This week's hometowns include a scary audio file and a Zodiac Killer connection.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe and downright obsess over true crime and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery, Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music, Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. Hello and welcome to My Favorite Murder, the mini soap. Tiny. It's where we read you stories that you've written yourselves. Emails. You've sent to our Gmail, myfavoritemurderatgmail.com, telling us about, uh, true crime stories from your town. Uh, grandparents who did crazy illegal things. Stuff you've witnessed on the street. That's right. Getting kids drunk on accident. That's a classic. Classic. But I'm not saying do it on purpose just to have a story to write to us.

No, in fact, we'll arrest you if you do that. That's right. Citizens arrest. Citizens arrest. Do you want to go first? Sure. Mm-hmm. Well, and also if you want one extra mini soap, if you're just dying for one more from us, then go to the fan cult where we do that for you. One of the many perks of joining the fan cult, aside from the fact that it's, it's, if you break it down, super cheap. Yeah. But also there's all kinds of bonus content. There's all kinds of bonus content, merch sales, what kinds of cool shit. Anyway, we're not here to sell you on a concept. We're here to sell you on your own emails. And you're buying, friend. That's right. All right. This is called How Did No One Else Hear It.

Mm-hmm. And there's an audio file I can play with for you if you, if you so want me to. But here we go. Is it a 911 call? It is not. Don't worry. Okay. Okay. Hi, Billy Mays here. I'll save all the praise till the end so you can decide if you want to skip it. Wait, sorry. Billy Mays. No, that guy passed away. Billy Mays. Remember Billy Mays, the, the infomercial guy? Oh, yeah. Billy Mays here with the, and what did he sell? Oh, that's, that's what they meant. Hi, Billy Mays here. Oh, okay. It's just a little joke on it. I get it. I'll save all the praise. Blah, blah, blah. That would be amazing. In the spring of 2017, I was a junior in college at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo. This starts up bad, gets better. I lived off campus in a single story house that

backed up against a large hill and open space. I'd often hike that trail between classes with my German shepherd mix. Adopt, don't shop. One evening I was home with one of my two roommates. I was sitting at the table working on some assignments with my roommate washing dishes a few feet from me. Given our proximity to the California coast and our college student income level, we didn't have an air conditioning system. We often left the sliding door to the backyard open with only a screen across. In the midst of a typical weekday evening, we both made quick, horrified eye contact at the sudden unmistakable sound of a woman screaming. Oh, it wasn't a long consistent sound, but instead a repetitive and almost cyclical cry.

It was definitely coming from that open space immediately beyond our fence line. Our two large black dogs ran outside to investigate. We called 911 with shaking hands and explained the situation. The police arrived shortly after the screams ended and took our statements. They, quote, shined their lights up the hill and questioned our immediate neighbors who all claimed they had heard nothing despite their back doors being open to. We felt ashamed and embarrassed for wasting their time with an over exaggerated story. Still, we knew what we had heard and weren't disbelief of their dismissal. I was convinced the next day would be chaos as someone came across a lifeless body up in those hills. A few days passed and nothing changed.

We had both called our parents and shared what happened. It was obvious that they only half believed our story. Living in an all female house, dogs included, didn't feel safe, but our hands felt tied. Why didn't the neighbors hear it? Maybe two weeks later, the house surrounded by darkness, my same roommate and I are sitting in the kitchen. We hear it again. Oh no, are you gonna play this clip? In the span of, I'm not, I'm not responding to that. I don't know why. Well, you shouldn't say all of Georgia's physical, like it was like her whole being just kind of settled and it was like she was about to reach forward and press play in the most frightening manner. Well, this is a wait for it. What? Okay. Okay. In the span of one second, 10 thoughts

fly through my head. A slow motion smile grows across my face as I realized several things. We didn't imagine it. I can record it. It's not a murder. I pulled out my phone and started a voice memo. The first few seconds are me struggling with the screen door as our dogs push their way into the darkened backyard. I don't want to hear the audio. Are you scared? I don't know. That's absolutely screaming. Yeah. Guess what? Next line. It's a motherfucking mountain lion. Is it really? Now, let me just say that while I've grown up in California where mountain lions are present, they are very rarely seen. And I've never heard of this. After some nevering of what animal sounds like a woman screaming, mountain lions are clearly known for this. Apparently,

in the springtime, these bitches scream bloody murder in attempt to attract a mate. New flirting technique? It's a little bit scary. We'll put it up. It literally sounds like a 70s horror movie of a woman being chased with a knife. It's horrifying. It's horrifying. Can you imagine you're just like doing the dishes and you fucking hear that outside your wildernessy fucking backyard? No way. Why did they sound like that? I don't know. To drop people to them so they can eat people. I don't know. No, it's a mating call. Jesus Christ. Yeah. I still don't know why the neighbors didn't hear it or why the police didn't show up and say, oh, you live by this big open space. It's probably a mountain lion. Did it sound like this? Pulls up

a YouTube video. Either way, it was definitely a relief to have our answer and proof of the experience. Though it's not a hometown murder, it's definitely my go-to party story with audio aids to help. There's a bunch of really, really lovely stuff to both of us, which I can send to you and then about mental health. It says, I've been on antidepressants for five years now and though they're not a one-stop fix, I am more capable of getting through my days as, quote, normal and in control as possible. I think the biggest thing I had to understand was that even though I didn't want to kill myself and my panic attacks didn't look like the overwhelming breakdown I'd heard people discuss, I was still very much in the realm of depression and I very much still

had extreme levels of anxiety that I shouldn't have had to accept. I could go on and on, but this email is long enough. I love you both. Peace be with you and Shabbat Shalom. Chandler, I'm a girl. Chandler, amazing story. I love that there's audio files that you are sending along. Chandler, there's a lot of trust in that. Georgia, you open that file. That is a good point. A lot of mutual trust, which is a beautiful thing to witness. If I was there and also we both know what San Luis Abiso looks like, it truly is a tiny town with rolling hills all around it. Yes. And I heard that noise. I would flip out. It's so scary. It's terrifying. It sounds like a woman in the 70s movie being chased by a knife person.

It's a Texas chainsaw massacre outtake. Yes. It is not cool at all. Not. And there's nothing animal like there's no animal ending or, you know, MGM lion kind of right to just to be like, Hey, and also this is just me. Don't worry about it. Everything's fine. Oof. Yeah. Oof. Good one. Chandler, Shabbat Shalom. Good Halloween one. Good yon tiff to you, Chandler. Okay. The subject line of this email is Zodiac killer hometown connection. Ooh. Hi, sexy ladies. Hey, thank you. I don't know why that makes me so sorry. Story time. In honor of the Zodiac killer being in parentheses, possibly identified, and then three question marks in parentheses, which you and I, I think talked about this where

the case breakers, although perhaps a completely valid and maybe intense expert crew never heard of them before. Right. And all the, when I read the article, all of the proof that they had was like, cause the case breakers say so. Right. Did we talk about this already? I don't think we ever did talk about it on an episode. Let's do it. I, because everyone got super excited, of course, when it happened and it was very much a social media thing of, oh my God, it's happened. And I, I kept going like, right, but we have to, you have to look at the sources. Yeah. And if it's the case breakers say so, although they might know what they're doing, it's like, you got to actually have that. Yeah. And one of the pieces of evidence cannot be that it looks like the sketch because

everyone looks like the sketch if you want them to. And at this point in this day and age, I don't fucking care about that. Have you ever seen Steven with no mustache and a crew cut? He is this. Hey, wait a second. Okay. Anyway, they say, I decided to treat my little murderer self to a good true crime documentary and a night in. So basically in honor of the potential recognition, identification of recognition, metal and a sash award ceremony. Okay. While I'll listen to just about any story, I never got around to deep diving into the zodiac, despite being born and bred Californian, practically a sin. I know I was in the mood for entertainment. So I turned on David Fincher's zodiac. Here's what's insane. Just rewatched it last night.

No way. Yes. Isn't that crazy? Yes. And prepared myself to be appropriately intrigued and captivated by Jake Gyllenhaal's lovely face and the storyline, of course. Fast forward 12 minutes to when this first cipher is cracked. I see the words Salinas, California splashed across the screen and absolutely all caps freak the fuck out. I immediately delivered this information to my mother who was unimpressed. Yeah, she said they and then in parentheses, the couple who saw the cipher lived a street over from us when I was a kid. They did puzzles every morning. Cue to my mind being blown of all the times I lamented her about having nothing to write in, not once did she mention it. Mom. That's right. What the fuck. She was like, you got to work

for it. You got to earn it. You got to watch Zodiac. You have to find it first and then I'm just going to give you a freebie. No, it's unearned if you do it that way. Oh, parentheses, on a side note, she loves your minisodes and constantly pesters me on car rides to play the quote swearing crime ladies. Oh, honored. Okay, so here's a little information. Donald and Betty Hardin are credited with cracking the first original cipher a week after it was published in July of 1969. I begged my grandfather, a retired public investigator for more details, and he casually mentioned Donald was suspected of being the Zodiac for years. I didn't know that. Well, did I know that? For years. No. For years. Because they cracked it. It was like,

keep your eye on those guys. Sure. Wow. Unbelievable. Unfortunately, the Hardins both passed away a few years ago, so I won't be able to weasel my way into grabbing you girls some more details. Still the coolest thing ever, in my opinion. Thanks for being such awesomely badass women. Your great storytellers in every episode feels like a gossip session with friends who actively encourage my paranoia about all the scary things in the world. And that's in parentheses, it says a high compliment. Give the pets lots of treats for me. Stay sexy and look into local code breaking legends, Gretchen. That's rad. That couple, man, like those are the kind of people I wanted my dinner parties. I've never thrown a dinner party, but those are the kind of people

I wanted dinner party. Donald and Betty Hardin were like the original citizen detectives that did it right. You need this little piece taken care of. We're good at that. That's what we can contribute. And then I'm the suspect for years and years and years. Yes. And for your help. Wow. That was great. Yeah. Awesome, right? I like that because I encourage people like, that's not a huge story personally. You know what I mean? There's just a little tidbit, but then when you go on to explain about the case, then that's how it becomes a hometown we pick. You know what I mean? I get so many that I read that I'm like, oh, you didn't really tell me about the case. You just told me the little connection. So that's a tip and trick. Exactly.

Like help us out if we haven't seen David Fincher's Zodiac or don't know anything about that insane case that has never truly been solved as far as we know, unless of course the case breakers have done it. Then yeah, let educate us. Yeah. Even if we've covered it, like I got one that was like the serial killer I had covered in like episode 40. We're on episode like 300. I don't remember. Help us out. Help us please. Okay. This is called a model riot. Hello, etc. When I heard the story of the Hillsborough disaster on one of your recent episodes, I thought I would share my own far less fatal brush with a crushing crowd in the America's next top model riot of 2009. Did you hear? Do you know anything about this?

Okay. No, and I just took a sip of water right? Oh my God. No, I've never heard of this. Oh my God. Like many girls in the early 2000s, my sister and I were obsessed with America's next top model. Fuck yeah. We pretended it was an ironic obsession, but when they opened casting to include women under 510, we decided pretty much immediately to audition in New York City, which is a train right away from our hometown. Apparently, no one had realized how many women would turn up for a chance to be on ANTM and the line for the auditions wrapped around several city blocks. So hundreds of women were peeing in cups, standing for hours and heels, hungry, tired, etc. Tensions were extremely high. After nine plus hours in line, a black sedan rolled down the side

street where my sister and I stood in line and had smoke billowing from under the hood and was pissing liquid from the bottom as it spurted down the road, which was closed to traffic and eventually came to a stop right next to our portion of the line. It took about a half a second for one of the women next to us to start screaming, bomb, there's a bomb. What? Only a few years removed from 9-11. The response to it was exactly what you'd expect. I think my sister and I didn't panic only because we could see the overheating car and knew that it wasn't a bomb. But the rest of the crowd didn't have that perspective. The crowd started surging and everyone started screaming. I was pushed up against one of the barriers so hard that I couldn't breathe. While the cops

who were patrolling the line started trying to push back, yelling at us to get back from the barricade. But they were no match for a hungry, scared crowd of women who had been standing in heels all day, and the barricades started falling from the weight of everyone trying to get away from the quote bomb. Oh, I fell over the barricade and my sister grabbed my arm and hauled me up before I could get crushed by the crowd. We literally ran as fast as we could. We had the foresight to wear sneakers and only carry our heels, thankfully. Smart. Away from the crowd until we were several blocks away where we collapsed to catch our breaths. A few cops tried to grab us and stop us from leaving, but we had a single-minded focus to just get the fuck out of there.

We called our parents from the train ride home and said, first of all, we're fine, but I think we were just in a riot. They were glad we were safe, but definitely thought we were exaggerating until the news articles came out the next day, as well as a video that someone had taken from an apartment window. To be honest, while being in the middle of it was somewhat scary, watching the video and seeing the mass of people in full is way more terrifying. It's still up on YouTube, if you want to check it out. Long story short, we did not get cast in America's Next Top Model. Stay sexy. Love Tyra. Stay sexy and always wear your sneakers, Katie.

Wow. That's scary. It sounds so funny and then you read it and you're like, that sounds fucking terrifying. No, mass anything is scary. Mass feel on the blank. Mass scared people. Yes, because it's a panic. People aren't using their heads and that thing of, thank God, her sister was there with her to pull her up when she fell down. Stuff like that. We've talked about enough disasters to know how deadly that could be. This one, this subject line of this email is the boy in the window. Hey babes, in 2006, I was a middle schooler in Albany, California, an extremely small town located about 30 minutes from Petaluma. Hi, Karen. Hi. On my way home from school every day, I would pass a house with a giant photo of

a boy in the window. The house was just far enough away that I couldn't make out the writing at the bottom of the photo on my usual route. The photo remained there in the window for months and one day my curiosity got the best of me and being a budding murderer, now I took a detour and walked past the house to get a better look. The writing on the photo read, Juan Carlos Ramos murdered at a house party in Berkeley on February 10th, 2006. If you have a tip, call mom at and then it gave the number. Juan Carlos Ramos was an 18 year old contra-crossed a college student who was attending a house party in the Berkeley Hills when he was fatally stabbed. It's believed that an argument broke out regarding a skateboard and Juan Carlos was stabbed while trying to help a friend who

had also been stabbed. The friend and two others survived, but Juan Carlos unfortunately died shortly after being rushed to a trauma hospital in Oakland. During the investigation, police questioned about 50 teenagers, most of whom were high schoolers, but no one relinquished any incriminating information. All the articles I've read blame a quote unquote no snitch code for this, but I can't help but think that POC teenagers being hesitant to comply with police due to fear of being racially profiled and possibly wrongfully convicted also played a role. After a year with no leads, Juan Carlos's mother Barbara wrote an open letter in the local newspaper pleading for information stating quote, there are people who know who killed him, but no one is talking. Why? Is it because they're scared?

I'm scared too for all the people who come into contact with this murderer. In 2009, after three years of on and off investigation by the police, all the involved high schoolers had graduated and the peer pressure to stay quiet was off. Police were able to gain enough information to arrest a 22 year old Justin Michael Johnson for the stabbing. Justin pleaded no contest to voluntary manslaughter and is currently serving an 11 year sentence in Solano State Prison. The Roma's family continue to keep their son's photo in the window as a memorial. Juan Carlos was known for his love of cars and horses, always helping others and for having a big and bright smile. He was studying to become an electrician. We want to see justice for our

son. Barbara said after the arrest was made, we've been waiting for three years for justice. I always felt that it was important to keep his name in the news and in people's hearts and minds. Although I didn't have any personal involvement being exposed to a murder in our small town where nothing much happened and everything was supposed to be quote unquote safe at such young age heavily influenced my life's church actory. I'm now pursuing a career in public service by giving back to the community and helping to protect our youth who cannot protect themselves. Stay sexy and keep the memory of those who have gone before us alive Allegra. Wow. What a perfectly written hometown email, Allegra. That was beautiful, beautiful. You deserve a sash and an award.

And, you know, it's such a testament to Juan Carlos Ramis' mother, like just basically keeping that vigil and keeping it alive and making sure that something happened. I mean, like, it's so sad that so often it's like mothers and people that are that close to the tragedy have to do that work. Right. The only ones keeping the story in the public's mind and in the law, like not letting the law enforcement get off the hook of investigating further. Yeah. Although we have to say, I mean, like, according to this email, they stayed with it. Totally. It was three years later and they kept, you know, pursuing that case. But wow. Yeah. Great job, Allegra. Thank you. And good job. I love the idea that she's saying that because that's

what we have found with the people that we talk to is those things, it's not just the fascination with true crime. It actually changes the what you do with your life sometimes. Totally. Well, then for us too. We didn't become professionals. Looking for a better cooking routine? With meal planning, shopping, and prepping handled, HelloFresh has you covered. HelloFresh makes home cooking easy and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. HelloFresh meals are convenient, seasonal, and delicious. Stay cozy all winter long with classic comfort foods available weekly. Why stop with just dinner? Now you can enjoy HelloFresh's expanded menu of quick lunch solutions,

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Hey, I'm Arisha. And I'm Brooke. And we're the hosts of Wondery's podcast, Even the Rich, where we bring you absolutely true and absolutely shocking stories about the most famous families and biggest celebrities the world has ever seen. Our newest series is all about the incomparable Diva, Whitney Houston. Whitney's voice defined a generation and even after her death, her talent remains unmatched. But her incredible success hit a deeply private pain. In our series, Whitney Houston, Destiny of a Diva, we'll tell you how she hid her true self to make everyone around her happy and how the pressure to be all things to all people led her down a dark path. Follow Even the Rich wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app.

Just another drunk kid story. Oh, here we go. Okay. Nice. Hello, Karen, Georgia, Stephen, pets, girls, gays and gays. Wait, gays and what? And gays. That was pretty epic. Georgia said there needed to be a drunk kid story on each episode. And so here is mine. Thank you. Picture this. It's 2007. I'm 13. And I just finished my last day of middle school in a small rural North Carolina town. We had a half day. So my friend's mom picked us up from school. And we went back to her house to hang out before we went to an end of year pool party later that afternoon. My friend's mom went back to work leaving us alone to do 13 year old girl things. My friend mentioned that her grandpa who lived up the road had some beers in the fridge. And did I want to try one? I said sure. And we

walked up to his house, grabbed two out of his fridge and ran back to her house. We both took a sip, discussed how gross they were, but were determined to finish them. We laughed about how drunk we were. And when we went to the pool party, bragged to everyone about our drinking. I honestly think this exact thing happened to me. Yeah, for this part. Back to the next day when my dad comes into my room, he says, Samantha, your friend's mom called and said you two took some beers from her grandpa's fridge. I thought I was in deep shit until my dad said, luckily, they were just o' duels. We need to talk about why you took one in the first place.

Yep, that's right. My friend and I drank all the caps, non-alcoholic beers, and thought we were drunk. My dad likes to bring it up occasionally and laugh at how stupid I was at 13. Anyway, a quick thanks to you ladies for everything you do. This show means so much to me and so many others. Stay sexy and try not to get drunk off one non-alcoholic beer. Sam, she, her. Sam, what a classic 13-year-old move that was. I'm so drunk. Let's go to the pool party. Oh my god, you guys won't believe how drunk we are. I can finally be myself. Amazing. So good. Well, in the, in along the same lines of we always need a drunk kid story, we also always need a grandparent story. So here's my last one. It's the subject line is

my dead grandfather saved my life. Hi friends. When I was in high school, my papa died of cancer. He was one of the most selfless, generous, big-hearted people I've known. It was a huge loss. My family wasn't super well off and my dad got stuck trying to deal with some of the loose ends one has after his father's passing. We got papa's old car, a big boat maroon Lincoln that we all were going to sell. I was excited because I wasn't able to get a car when I got my license. So I got to drive myself to school for a couple of weeks rather than take the bus. There's nothing better in the world. When you go from like carpool or school bus to driving yourself to school. That morning alone in the car with the radio playing.

It's like quiet for the first time in your fucking life because you're alone. I used to be filled with the most insane joy of like, this is freedom. This is being an adult. And I could go, I could go to the next town over right now, the record store if I want, by myself because I have fucking freedom. Yes, I could get on the freeway freeway. I go to Los Angeles right fucking now if I wanted to. And I did. Okay. I worked a job after school and it was always a rush making it there on time. This specific day, I was even in more of a hurry. I stopped at a light in the farthest left of two left turn lanes. As a newly licensed driver, I typically gun it as soon as the light turned green,

especially on a day like that day when I was rushing. I got the green light but for some reason I didn't do it that time. I had this bizarre moment of calm and I paused. As I did, a car ran their red light going way too fast. They t-boned the car that was in the lane next to me who had pulled ahead of me and gone when the light had changed. It happened right in front of me and it was horrifying. I was in shock and an emotional wreck by the time I made it into work. I absolutely know deep down that if I had gotten hit there on my driver's side by that car, I probably wouldn't have survived. I really think Papa was there watching over me that day. Just one more act of looking out for his granddaughter. The car was sadly sold shortly

after that but I'll never forget it. Maybe he's watching over whoever's driving it now. You hear this all the time but I can't thank you enough for being so open about your mental health. You gave me the inspiration to get help that I needed for a really long time and I'm so grateful. Healing feels really good. Love you guys lots. Stay sexy and always pause for a moment when the stop light turns green. That's so true. Love Liana. Liana, brilliant. Brilliantly done. Yes, so good. I love the idea that you're sharing your Papa with the next person who's driving that car too. It's pretty selfless of you to be like, I'm not watching over me anymore. He's watching over me that's like so nice. His duty is in the Lincoln. He has to watch over that Lincoln.

Those things are, it's difficult but I have to tell you those are the kind of lessons. I think that it's a horrible way to learn it because it's so awful to be in a car to see one but that's how you learn to be a good driver is when you see horrible shit happen on the road. There is no reason to gun it right off of a light. There is no reason to go fast down a street when someone could walk out in front of you like just fucking be calm down and drive a car like an old, your grandpa. I really am taking this to heart because you're literally talking to me. I am talking. I drove, I was riding a Vespa at the time and right in front of me, I saw a fucking motorcycle get hit by a car. He was okay. I mean, he was not okay

at first but he turned out to be okay I think and I just stopped riding after that and it's like that could have saved my fucking life. The fact that I just witnessed this this fucking guy on a motorcycle just get fucking plummeted off his motorcycle. Yeah, that's I mean so scary, so scary. Wow, that was a great batch. Yeah, really good batch. Good job you guys sending your stories whatever they may be. We want to hear them and read them. We love them. We love you. Stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie? This has been an exactly right production. Our producer is Hannah Kyle Crichton, associate producer Alejandra Keck, engineer and mixer Stephen Ray Morris, researchers J Elias and Hailey Gray,

send us your hometowns and your fucking arrays at myfavoritmurder.com and follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at myfavoritmurder and Twitter at myfavemurder. And for more information about this podcast, our live shows, merch, or to join the fan cult, go to myfavoritmurder.com. Rate, review, and subscribe.