My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 261
Episode Date: January 10, 2022This week’s hometowns include a mom in panic mode and bad lunch vibes. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sel...l-my-info.
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Hello and welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-soad that's also video-soad. That's right,
we're videoing this. You can see Karen's beautiful branch art and my red sweater. I mean, I say so
myself. The visuals of this mini-soad are unprecedented. Never before have you seen a
branch or sweater. Fan cult, you're gonna see it, you're gonna feel it. Yeah, join the fan cult if
you want to watch. But you may not want to hear like, I'm only audio and it's like, that's fine
to live in. That's fine and there's other perks. Anyways, let's not sell ourselves. Oh, there's no.
Let's not sell ourselves. Let's do our job. That's right. You want to go first? You want
me to go first? Do you want to go first? Go ahead. Sure, why not? Okay, this is called
treating Google like a friend pays off to Karen, Georgia, Stephen, Jay, Haley, Hannah and the
Animal Crew. She had everyone a shout out. Amazing. I'm emailing from Melbourne, Australia.
Thank you all so much for creating a podcast that brings so many of us so much joy. We bloody
love you down here. This story is from my parents' hometown of Tangambalinga and then it says you're
welcome because they wrote it out. They phonetically. Tangambalinga. You're welcome. Which is about
three and a half hours northeast of Melbourne. Think a population of 500-ish, beautiful rolling
hills and beef and dairy cattle aplenty. For as long as I can remember, every member of my extended
family would go weirdly quiet and awkward when the name of a local family was mentioned. I'm not
going to say the name of the family. Years ago, the family lived close to my grandparents' farm
before the family moved interstate. It wasn't until my own interest in true crime started to
escalate that I decided to Google the family and the town. What can I say? I'm a nosy millennial.
I treat Google like a friend. I ask it everything. Anywho, it turns out that Ashley,
one of the sons in the family, abducted two young teachers from a local primary school
as a 14-year-old. This was in the early 1970s and it was normal back then for the rural primary
schools to have young teachers live right by the school. Ashley calculated how to abduct them,
hijack their car and demand them to drive to Sydney about seven hours away. He went to their
house armed with a.22 handgun. When they stopped for petrol, these two managed to be freaking awesome
and raised the alarm and he was sent to Melbourne to the equivalent of a juvenile detention center.
He was really shortly after and that's when his family moved interstate. Obviously, I went to
my mom and she confirmed a lot. She said it was an awful time for everyone in town and as a 14-year-old
herself at the time, she was in his class, she remembers it super clearly. Mom said that he
had always been a scary sort of kid, quite a loner, but of course nobody thought it would
escalate to this sort of degree. As we all know, the 70s really weren't the era to focus on genuine
rehabilitation or providing support to incredibly troubled kids. You would think that literally
abducting your teachers at gunpoint would set off alarm bells all around for the entirety of this
kid's life. Unfortunately, Ashley grew up and got much worse. In the mid-1980s, he responded to an
advertisement from two university students who are a roommate. This was in Burwood in the eastern
suburbs of Melbourne. It was awfully calculated. He bound them along with one of their brother-in-laws
who was visiting at the time and killed them all in cold blood. Oh my god. After about a month on
the run, he was eventually captured while trying to abduct a couple at gunpoint in broad daylight
near the National Gallery of Victoria. During his entire trial, Ashley exercised his right to
remain silent. He was ultimately sentenced to three live sentences in prison. He's still alive and
serving time at a maximum security prison just outside of Melbourne. Stay sexy and Google that
suss family nobody wants to talk about. Wow. I know. Also, it's kind of like an ongoing story.
It's just like it starts bad and gets horrible. Totally. And the mom was in class with him.
It's so terrifying and sad. Yeah. I've got more of the same. Ready? Yeah. The subject line of
this email is in the church with the candlestick. Good day, fellow little sisters. My hometown
murder comes from Bristol, Connecticut, home of ESPN. Congratulations. It's hilarious.
Wow. I didn't know I had a home. Yeah, it does. And it's in Connecticut. Bristol, in fact. I now
reside in Melbourne, Australia. No way. And then it says, please come back. So many good stories.
Yes, we know. Uh-huh. It was late 1999 when I was nine years old that my love of true crime got
started. Growing up, my family and I went to church every Sunday. I didn't particularly enjoy this
experience, but I did love one of the priests. Father Lish was a kind, warm-hearted man who
made going to church enjoyable and always gave a sermon that wasn't too preachy or made you
feel like a terrible person. That's a rare gift. Something hard to do for the Catholic Church.
Sorry. Yeah, I did get my commentary on that. The story goes that the parishioners came in
for a 730 AM mass and Father Lish didn't show up. Figuring he had just overslept, the lay minister
led the prayers, read the gospel, and even gave Eucharist. While departing, a few people stumbled
upon wrapped up linen that was shoved under a pew. Upon further inspection, they sadly discovered
it was the badly beaten Father Lish. Oh my God. Police were called and the cause of death turned
out to be blunt traumatic head injury caused by a 4 foot tall brass candle stand. The person
responsible was Matthew Wehet, a 32 year old ex-marine who had severe mental illness. He was
caught because he was wearing Father Lish's clothes and was using his credit cards, which he
had stolen from the rectory after the fact. He was also seen fleeing the scene in a white hooded
robe as if he was dressed like a priest. To make things worse on the day Father Lish's body was
found, the obituary page of the Bristol Press carried a small unsigned advertisement with a
prayer to the Blessed Virgin, asking her to quote, secure me in my necessity. The newspaper said the
$80 ad was bought by Michael Wehet, who insisted it run on that Friday. He ended up getting 60 years
in prison and hopefully some much needed help. PS, I also went through all my schooling with Aaron
Hernandez, former pro footballer and murderer. I worked at a haunted house theme park which had
four deaths and a co-worker of mine was murdered in Boston, which had been linked to the smiley
murders. So maybe the smiley face murders? I think so, yeah. Is that Boston? I don't know. It's safe
to say my interest in true crime grew as I did. Love what you do, stay sexy and don't go to church, see.
That's the lesson we learn. See and see has she, her pronouns. That is, yeah, that's what you end
up at at the end of that story. That's so sad. It's so rare to find like a really solid, you know,
and I feel like in any religion, someone who makes it fun for children and like
to lose that is. Gets it right. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. And then also that it's like a murder that happens
in the church. Totally. Oh my god, horrible. Okay, this one's called No One Does Murder
Panic Like a Mom. This starts, hi Gorgeouses. Oh no, hi Gorgeouses, but it should be Gorgeouses,
I think. I was listening to an old mini-soat about a woman who nearly called the police
after she found a baggie with her own hair extensions behind a plank of wood in the closet.
It inspired me to write in with the following tale of the time I was nearly a murder victim,
but not really at all. Here we go. The summer between my freshman and sophomore years of
college, I was staying on my mom's couch while working at a downtown coffee shop. One evening
after working a closing shift, I arrived home at about 1030 to an extremely distraught mom
who shouted, oh thank god, and pulled me into a hug the moment I walked through the door
and then proceeded to yell, where have you been? I've been so worried. Confused and startled,
I said meekly at work. I was at work. Mom then shouts, why did you call to say you'd be home
hours ago? I've been so worried. Let's back up. It's earlier that evening, mom arrives home from
her office job to an empty house. The voicemail light is blinking on the phone, so this is pre-sale
phones. Mom listens to the voicemail. She hears my voice saying, hi, it's me. I'm leaving work at
five today, so I'll be home in time for dinner. Mom checks the time. It's five thirty, so I should
be home any minute. She starts dinner. Pretty soon at six, then at six thirty. I'm still not home.
Mom listens to the voicemail again. I definitely say leaving work at five. I should have been home
at least an hour ago. Okay, so maybe I took a detour on my way home for some reason. No need to panic.
Fast forward two hours to ten thirty. I'm still not home. Let the mom panic commence. As I said,
this is pre-sale phones, so she couldn't call or text to find out where I was, but she could have
called the coffee shop where I worked to ask what time I left or to find out if I was still there.
I was. No, instead, I always expect the worst mama has my mild mannered stepfather drive her
around town to, and I quote, check the gutters for my body, which they do for another hour,
finding the gutters to be body lists they had back home at about nine thirty. Clearly, my mom says
it's time to call the police. Stepfather somehow manages to talk her down from that ledge. Maybe
by telling her they probably won't be able to do much as I've only been a missing person for a few
hours. I don't know what the next hour was like for them, but let's just say my stepfather is a
very patient man. Now our timelines meet. It's ten thirty and I walk through the door, very much
alive and unharmed, cue the hysterics, cue confusion, cue the voicemail. I listen to it,
but I cannot for the life of me remember leaving it. I wouldn't have left it. My shift ended at
ten that night. It makes no sense. Maybe the voicemail went haywire and dug up an old message
and presented it as a new one. Stuff like that happens, right? Ghosts in the machine and all
that. Let's be grateful I'm home safe and sound and not a body in the gutter and move on.
The next day my sister is home. We tell her the whole story. She asks to listen to the voicemail.
We play it for her. She says, wow, Naomi, your voice really sounds like moms. Mom's eyes go wide as
saucers. Her jaw drops, hand flies to her mouth. Oh my God, she whispers. That's right. Mom left
the message herself, promptly forgot, arrived home, listened to the voicemail and well, you know the
rest. As soon as my sister said that our voices sound alike, which my mom's defense, they definitely
do, she immediately remembered leaving the message. The three of us laughed until our sides hurt.
But now that I think of it, I don't recall my stepfather joining in on the laughter so much.
No way. I have to say that I've inherited my mother's inclination to panic first and ask
questions later. But maybe because of this experience, I've developed a pretty good inner
voice that can talk to the panic rationally, which gives me a measure of self-control.
But as any murderer now well knows, scary shit really does happen all the damn time. So really,
the only sane thing to do is panic sometimes. Anyway, stay sexy and definitely search for
your daughter dead in a ditch if you haven't heard from her in a few hours. Naomi.
I'm sorry, Naomi's mom, but there was one step that was skipped that is kind of crucial.
Why didn't you just call her at work? Totally.
Totally. Just one phone call to be like, did she leave? Yeah.
Oh, yeah. But it's almost like she was set for it. That's amazing. I would have left.
I would have never stopped laughing if that was me. Definitely. Okay. It's called police car
placement. Hello, my bad ass BFFs, two and four legged. You're many so last week about the girl
and mom who were put in the police car front seat reminded me that I need to tell you about this.
It's a little long part of a sermon I gave at our UU congregation on December 26th.
A couple of months ago, my youngest daughter Sarah and her youngest daughter Maya and a friend of
Maya's all got parts in an interactive play in Utah. They drove there and the play was a success
and a good time was had by all on the way back passing through Montana. The friend was driving
and went over the speed limit. They were stopped by a police officer who told the driver to get
out of the car and come with him. He put her in the front passenger seat beside himself with no
barrier between them. Now in our experience, when an officer puts you in the patrol car,
he puts you in the back seat where there are partitions between the front and the back left
and right. My daughters and I follow true crime religiously and instances like this often do
not end well for the young woman even if the man is a genuine police officer. It's called a red flag.
Sarah and Maya both got highly suspicious and called 911 first to make sure this officer was
legitimate. They were told that he was concerned for the young woman's safety. They got out of the
car standing next to it with their arms crossed. The officer ordered them back in the car. They
said no. He asked what they were doing and Maya said we're watching you. He ordered them back
into the car under the threat of arrest. Sarah told Maya to get back in the car while Sarah stood
her ground. After a few more tries on his part to get Sarah back in the car, he wrote the driver
a ticket, he let her go and he brought Sarah to his patrol car putting her in the back seat.
He handcuffed and arrested her and took her to jail. There she was photographed for her mug shot
processed and assigned to sell where she would spend the weekend since it was a Friday night
and no one was there to set her bail. She asked the attendant about the questionable practice
and the attendant hesitantly and uncondensingly said uh yeah that's our standard operating procedure.
On Monday she appeared before a female judge who seemed to be quite empathetic to Sarah,
fined her then forgave the fine and let her go. Side note at Sarah's job Sarah was worried she
might be fired for being a jail bird. When she went to work back to work that Tuesday
she told them about the incident and her bosses basically said we won't fire you we're glad you
did that. Needless to say I'm very proud of Sarah and Maya for being there for their friend to the
point of being arrested. All of the women I brought into the swirl directly or indirectly
are fierce warriors and will risk anything to come to the aid of friends, family, strangers,
or animals. In joy and in concern our presence is the most valuable. The greatest gift is for a
person to give up their life for another one minute, one day, one weekend at a time. Your presence is
as much a miracle as any birth it is the greatest gift. That's part of the sermon I think. PS I
got Sarah a fuck politeness t-shirt for Christmas. Yeah you fucking did. Gotta get one for Maya too.
Much love, respect, and gratitude. Stay sexy and keep watching Janet. Oh my god Janet. Janet
is that good? Hell yeah. Why are they in the front seat? Yeah do it outside. If she hadn't
gotten arrested because she insisted on standing there who knows what would happen. Like it's
worth getting arrested to protect your friend. That's fucking bananas. Well and also it's almost
I mean it is she really did make a sacrifice because it's like you're gonna have a record or
something but why is it so important that he not be watched and that she be in the front seat?
Right. It's like double double suspicious that he didn't acknowledge that it was weird. Yeah or
that oh if that is making all three women uncomfortable then fine sit in the back seat or
then fine stand outside and I'll write you this ticket because you're getting the ticket either
way. Yeah. Is the point that he has control over their body? No it's not. It's that they were speeding
and they're getting a ticket. Right and who gives a shit if she stands there and keeps watch? Who cares
if she's standing there? It's important. It's good. Oh my god that is so badass I can't even
fucking handle it. I know right? Looking for a better cooking routine? With meal planning,
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and use code murder20. Goodbye. Hey I'm Aresha and I'm Brooke and we're the hosts of Wanderer'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. Okay this one's called a New Year's Surprise
Lighthearted Treasure. Hey MFM crew happy 2022 let's get to it. I woke up on New Year's Day to
the news that our planned bathroom renovation was starting today because our tub was leaking.
Not the best start to the new year but the old bathroom was 80s ugly so good riddance.
Hey I like the 80s. In the afternoon I came back from walking one of our dogs Silas
when my partner called out from the bathroom I think I just found a thousand dollars.
While tearing apart the bathroom he found the money in a Ziploc bag clearly stashed with an
easy reach of a hole in the floor that had since been covered by a previous owner.
My first thought after he told me was that I finally had a hometown to submit.
We found treasure. Stay sexy and don't forget to take your hidden cash when you move out Beth.
Okay Beth could you please check the year on those bills and circle back with was
what year were they from like yeah what was the final year of all of them yeah.
Right was this treasure from 1940 or 1999? Well if it was in 80s bath and bathroom that means
they remodeled probably in the 80s so it's probably around then. I like it I like your
deduction. Do you like that? I did it helped me. I helped me visualize. I watch a lot of remodeling
shows a lot. I mean better a thousand dollars than asbestos which is what they usually find.
Yeah also is it spendable money? Did you just get a thousand dollars? Like I think so. Do you now
get like one of those faucets that you just wave your hand on like a public bathroom and it goes
on by itself. Yeah it has to go back in the bathroom. It has to go in the bathroom. Yeah.
That's the previous owner was like please make this bathroom look better. Yeah yeah we know
we kind of fucked up in the 80s. Here's some laundered money could you please. Okay here's
my last one that's also lighthearted. Subject is bad launch vibes. Hello all. First let me say
I've been listening to MFM since episode 10. Oh hi. Thank you. And I'm so proud of how hard
you've worked and how far you your company and our community have come. Aw. Wonderful. Anyways
I recently moved to a small town in northern California and then in parentheses it says
very Karen of me and it's I started a new office job. Being in one spot for eight hours a day was
starting to drive me up the fucking wall so I decided to use my lunch hour to drive around the
town to get my bearings. Well I ended up finding this cute little pull-off on a back road. It's
not very heavily trafficked and it's next to a huge solar panel field which are generally pretty
hopeful places. So my daily lunch drive started ending up on this pull-off where I'd listen to
your podcast and eat a turkey sandwich and generally zone out until I had to return to work.
A few nights ago I was googling local serial killers and true crime stories
as you do when you moved to a new area and all caps. Guess where I've been eating lunch.
Oh god. The fucking Lake Herman zodiac site aka the site of the first known zodiac killings.
That's right. Your girl has been inviting bad vibes into her sandwiches.
Luckily my cooking definitely isn't good enough to attract any ghosts. There were no signs,
memorials or plaques and if I hadn't absentmindedly googled the area I would have never known.
So now I'm working on finding a new place to scope off to during lunch after weeks of sitting
at a historic murder site just like chilling. No one else in my life was impressed so I hope
you guys got the same little shock I did. Stay sexy and find normal places to hide from work.
Madeline. Wow Madeline. She was so funny. She went right to that. It's one of the scariest scenes
in the zodiac movie. Yes. It's where the guy survives right and he's like by his car.
They just a guy with a bag on his head steps out from behind a tree. It's like in the
quiet. Quietly walks over to him. Oh it's so scary. Go somewhere with a little more public
please too because that's what it scares me a little bit. Yeah a nice public park or something.
Yeah it's perfect. Not that bad things don't happen there too but you know you don't have
to seclude yourself. At least there's witnesses. Yeah let's get some yeah let's get some watching
going like the email before. Let's get some witnesses. Again if you want to watch us on
video go to fan cult and we do one extra story each of the fan cult so check that out if you
want if not yeah it's fine too. Do you like exclusive content? Well then the fan cult's
the place to be. Yeah. Do you not? Fine. Fine then 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 Steven Ray Morris. Researchers
J. Elias and Hailey Gray. Send us your hometowns and your fucking hurrays at my favorite murder
at gmail.com. And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at my favorite murder and Twitter
at my fav murder. 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!