My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM - Minisode 279

Episode Date: May 16, 2022

This week’s hometowns include a cat-worshipping cult and an embarrassing mom story.  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-soad. That's right, we read you your stories to you. And if you belong to the fan cult, you can watch us, not just listen to us. Yeah, we're videoing this right now. An additional sense. Right, I put lip gloss on. That's right. And that's about it. You can see that I curled my eyelashes twice, forgetting I did it the first time. And so then I basically made my eyelashes on my right eye take a left turn that mascara

has only been able to partially fix. Oh, the trials and tribulations. I see it. We see it. We in the fan cult see it. Winky, she's winking. That's for the fan, winking at the fan cult only. Do you want to be a part of something like that? Look into it. Maybe. You go first, because Vince is going to bring me my printed stories, so I don't have them right now. Okay. And when he does, should we stop? Should we all stop and then scream hot off the presses or something? Yeah, definitely. Throw them all in the air, rip them up and say, no more. So get me better stories. Suddenly he's your editor. Okay. Here's my first one. Okay. I won't read you the subject line. It just starts, hi friends. I've been a devoted listener for two

years and always wished I had a good hometown descendant. A recent hometown reminded me of an incident that happened a few years ago and I knew I had to share. My husband is the manager of a locally owned restaurant in our smallish town. One day while getting ready for the lunch shift, his childhood friend who's now a police officer called and asked about a guy who worked in the kitchen. After my husband confirmed that he was at work, the officer asked if he had access to any weapons. Being the smart ass it is, my husband sarcastically replied, yeah, it's a kitchen. There are lots of knives. A short while later, local law enforcement stormed in the back of the kitchen door with guns drawn. The employee in question casually put his hands behind his head

and said, doesn't look like I'll be working today and was escorted out in handcuffs. It turns out the previous night after getting off of work, he murdered his ex-girlfriend's mom, who he saw as the reason he and his ex broke up. And then he proceeded to come to work the next morning like nothing happened. The officers took a pair of kitchen gloves from the restaurant as evidence and we later found out that he used a pair during the crime. He was eventually convicted and is spending a very long time in prison. Stay sexy and always be kind to the people working in the kitchen. That's not the moral of the story. Sorry. They're trying to turn it around at the end of please don't judge line cooks. This is a very special circumstance. Sure, sure. That's a good

one. That poor ex-girlfriend, man. I mean, horrifying. How about that? How about that, bro? Nice, compact, well-told, personal, actual hometown of oh my fucking god. Totally. Hot off the presses. Did he just tiptoe in so quietly? He did. He's a podcast professional. He is a pro. He knows how it's done. Okay. Not going to redo the subject, but it says, hello, my gorgeous friends. Let's get to it. They haven't seen my eyelashes. They don't know what they're talking about. I live in the Pacific Northwest where freaky shit happens all the time and people just shrug it off. My husband who grew up in this area casually dropped the juicy info that his cat came from a rescue called Eva's Eden, which fled the state when their cult activity came to light.

And of course, when he dropped this nugget in my lap, I had to know everything. Eva's Eden operated out of a building they decked out to be a cat paradise and also had a mobile cat bus adoption center. Sounds great so far, right? I'll join this fucking cult. It sounds like they're doing a great job for the one area. Right, so far. The cats were all fostered by volunteers and driven to the rescue every morning where interested parties could play and visit with them. Many matches were made and many happy cats were rehomed. Sounds great on the surface. By the way, no cats are harmed in this. Good, good to know. Yeah, that tension can be put away. Yes, yes. But eventually it came out that the

founder of the rescue was leading a cult and the rescue volunteers were her followers. Cheryl Ruthven was a Pentecostal preacher who believed she was a prophet, of course, and the reincarnation of Mary Magdalene. She preached that the end of the world was nigh and the cats were divine vessels who would shepherd the 144,000 pure souls mentioned in the book of Revelation to Heaven when the apocalypse came. She told her ministry that they had to foster between 20 and 80 cats at a time in their homes. Because of this event, that was in preparation for the event. Oh. Yeah, and the cats were divine vessels, so they're like, bring them home. Yeah, all 80. Uh-huh. Even if their family members were allergic

and insisted allergies were a sign of not having enough faith. She brainwashed women and divorcing their husbands, made them drink her blood from chalices, and excommunicated anyone who questioned her authority. When too much shit hit the fan, she up and moved for congregation and the mobile cat rescue to Columbia, Tennessee. This is long enough already, so I'll mention that there's a ton of detail on the slow descent of the church from a typical Pentecostal ministry to a full-blown cult in the Opportunist podcast. Thank you all for everything you do and for being the friendly voices in my ear while I slog through 12-hour work shifts with much love, husbands, Danny, and Gareth. P.S., just in case Cheryl was onto something, I spoiled the hell out of my husband's

cult kitty. She might not really be a divine vessel, but she sure as hell seems to appreciate being worshiped. That P.S. is actually the basis of Catholicism, where it's like, it doesn't sound that realistic, but I'm kind of scared to not do it anyway, just in case. Yeah, but what if? But what if? Wow, that's... What if? It seems to me, and maybe it's just because of podcasts and Netflix or whatever, but doesn't it feel like cults are just popping up everywhere and people are just like, sure, I'll join this cat rescue lady cult and drink her blood? Well, you think that it's like... The cults are the big ones you've always heard about, not thinking that there are little ones that don't even make a blip on the radar everywhere,

especially in the fucking Pacific Northwest. But they're still drinking our blood. Yeah. So intense. How do you get from like, okay, I'll foster a couple cats to let's have it. Cheers to your blood, Mary Magdalene. Yeah, I mean, yeah. Also, I feel like the biblical Mary Magdalene, and this might just be my biblical interpretation, but she wasn't... That wasn't her style at all. Yeah. She was like Jesus's best friend slash lover. She wasn't bossy. She wasn't like worship me. Yeah. She was kind of like, oh, good second chances. Let's all hang out. Looking for a better cooking routine? With meal planning, shopping, and prepping handled, Hello Fresh has you covered. Hello Fresh makes home cooking easy

and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. Hello Fresh meals are convenient, seasonal, and delicious. Stay cozy all winter long with classic comfort foods available weekly. While I stop with just dinner, now you can enjoy Hello Fresh's expanded menu of quick lunch solutions, weekend brunch, simple side dishes, and amazing desserts. Karen January is going to be my month for Hello Fresh. I am so sick of takeout. I miss cooking so much. I haven't lifted a knife or a pan since like early fall. So I can't wait to get back in the kitchen and Hello Fresh makes it so easy and also makes it so that my food tastes good, which is hard to do on my own. It gives you everything, everything you need. So get up to 20 free meals with purchase

plus free shipping on your first box at hellofresh.ca slash murder20 with code murder20. That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to hellofresh.ca slash murder20 and use code murder20. Goodbye. What makes a person a murderer? Are they born to kill? Or are they made to kill? I'm Candace DeLong and on my new podcast Killer Psyche Daily, I share a quick 10-minute rundown every weekday on the motivations and behaviors of the criminal masterminds, psychopaths, and cold-blooded killers you hear about in the news. I have decades of experience as a psychiatric nurse, FBI agent, and criminal profiler. On Killer Psyche Daily, I'll give you insight into cases like Ryan Grantham and the newly arrested Stockton Serial Killer.

I'll also bring on expert guests to dive deeper into the details, share what it's like to work with a behavioral assessment unit at Quantico, answer some killer trivia, and even host virtual Q&As where I'll answer your burning questions. Hey Prime members, listen to the Amazon Music exclusive podcast Killer Psyche Daily in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. Okay, this just starts out folks. Love it. Long time listener, first-time writer, yada yada yada. Did I ever tell you the story of the time my mom, a civilian, pulled over a sheriff's deputy? No? Well, let's dig in. I love it. This was about 15 years ago. I was a high school senior and my older sister was attending the local college, a short drive from home. She had an event that night

and I decided to tag along with my mom for the ride to pick her up after. This is the kind of shit you do when you're in high school in a small town, like literally just getting in the car and going somewhere is exciting. Do you want to keep watching TV or do you want to go on a drive? Quick drive. Yeah. An errand. Literally the most trouble I got in in high school was one time my sister was at the JC and I was a junior. I just decided one night to go to drive into town with her and sit in the car in the parking lot while she was in it at class and I just sat there like doing nothing to the radio or whatever. Yeah, exactly. But I had told my parents I was going to study at my friend, Lisa Lanyon's house. Lisa Lanyon headband, the headband household

and I got in so much trouble for lying but I was like, but I didn't do anything. You were smoking pot in the car. No, such a waste. They also didn't believe that I wasn't doing anything which, you know, it is a little suspicious to sit in a car where I was like, I just don't want to be in this house anymore. Okay. Anyhow, so we get my sister from campus and we start driving back home, less than a mile from our house, the sheriff's deputy car that had been in front of us, pulled off to the side of the road. My mom, for whatever reason, pulled up behind them. Mom, what are you doing? I think they're pulling us over. That's not how it works. Literally. Again, we were behind them. This is all written in script form so that makes

means that I have to give people different voices. All right. Okay. I don't think they're pulling us over. Sometimes they do this and then in parentheses it says, do they? The sheriff's deputy moved their car forward a bit. My mom moved right up, keeping a respectful distance from the law. We sat for a moment. I really don't think they're pulling us over. They're not getting out of the car and they're in front of us. Still, she waited. Finally, my mom decided to ask them. She pulled up beside them and rolled down my window. Excuse me. Are you pulling us over? My God. Honestly, I'm getting a little angry because this is something my mom would do too. It's like, mom, this isn't how life works. I'm a teenager and I understand this is not happening.

None of this is tracking. What the fuck are you doing? Can you please? Oh, my God. And now this is the cop voice. Okay. No, ma'am, you're behind us. Get going. I'll never forget my mom's response. She floored it. Absolute pedal to the metal, Starsky and Hutch peel out. My sister and I were stunned. Mom, what are you doing? He said that they were behind us. I figured they're probably waiting for some perp to come up the road. Oh, my God. By the time she finished explaining that, we were home. You see, when my sister called for the ride, my mom had just taken her nighttime medications, the kind they tell you not to operate heavy machinery on. Ma figured she had enough time to go to campus and get back

before they kicked in. Oh, no. She was wrong. Oh, no. Stay sexy and get home before the meds kick in, Fred. She could have been arrested for like reckless endangerment of fucking She was asking to be arrested. She's asking him to arrest her. She's like, hi, I'm not in my right mind. Oh, hi, hi, I'm high. I'm not in my right mind. I'll give you one guess as to the color of this white woman's skin. Jesus Christ. Oh, wow. All right. A great one. A classic. Yeah. It's definitely a Jana move, but she would have been high. So it all adds up. Excuse me, are you arresting us? Yeah. Okay. This subject line gives nothing away. This is the subject line. You didn't ask for the story and I cannot think of any reason you would have. Love y'all. Never

stop. Houston, 2001. I'm 18 in low rise boot cut jeans, a baby doll tea, and I smell a vanilla riding shotgun in the passenger seat of my dad's car. Oh, another parent driving. I had just gotten my license and had been gifted a car. I was blissfully on my way to an appointment. My dad had set up for me that would quote, be the last step before I get the keys. We pull up to a government building and he tells me they're expecting me to tell them I'm there for my eight AM appointment. Confused, but fiercely independent. I walk in and greet the friendly receptionist behind the glass. She looks at me and says, great, and hands me a medical mask and a pair of shoe covers. I take these and clearly look confused. She looks at me even more confused. You don't know why you're

here. You're here to witness an autopsy. What? Where am I? The world spun time slowed down. What the fuck? Turns out my dad had dropped me off at the county institute of forensic science. This is like a great, I mean, okay. She explained that there's a teen program that explains the dangers of drunk and reckless driving that includes seeing a rumpled car where a teenager died and other stuff. However, my dad hadn't been able to arrange that class for me. So I was seeing an autopsy to see what happens when you die. Jesus, dad. You know, it just covers all the bases, just an autopsy. It's a little bit out of context and very much more intense than seeing a crashed car. Seeing a program made for teens to scare them a little, but not to like, you know, well,

here we go. Long story short, I know what a skull looks like without a brain in it. The sound bones make when cut with garden shears and the sound that a saw makes going through a skull. 15, 18, 18 years old. I got to touch and see the half deflated brain of a person who died from a stroke. I learned about how the professionals process and weigh all the innards. I also got to see the freezer where all the unclaimed and under investigation bodies are kept. And yes, I did get to see the rumpled up car where a girl died when putting on her makeup. I'd like to take this moment to thank my dad for this and all of the little tea traumas that he sprinkled throughout my childhood. Oh, and I can't find anything about the

teen program online, so I don't think it's offered anymore. Stay sexy and always read the sign on the building before you walk in. Karina. PS, if you're ever looking for something random to do, I recommend Houston's National Museum of Funeral History. I used to hang there to pass the time when my aunt was in her classes for mortuary school. Lots of old caskets and herses. The end. Wow. He had his heart in the right place. Dad, good old dad. It's like he's like, you know, an ounce of prevention is worth whatever the rest is, but it's almost like prevention gone awry. It's so extreme. Yeah. I know that my cousin, when he accidentally lit the kitchen on fire when he was a kid, his parents, my aunt and uncle took him to the burn ward and like made

him walk around, like, made him volunteer there for a little bit just to be like, here's what happens when you flick mattress across the fucking kitchen and you hit a fucking dish towel. Here's how lucky you are that nothing, you know, more happened. Yeah. I mean, I guess I'm not against it. Yeah. But it feels like it should be connected like that. Just a straight up optopsy is so disturbing. It's so disturbing. The subject line of my last email is my witchy Italian family. Hey all MFM people, since you kind of receive hometowns about all kinds of things these days, I thought I'd send in a fun story about my weird Italian family and how they came to the U.S. because it's very odd. I grew up in a very Roman Catholic Italian family in upstate New York.

My grandma loves Jesus and blames all the world's problems on us not being married, not being truthful to her and that we don't go to church enough. I mean, who knows, you know? There it is. Could be. For example, I wouldn't tell her how much my dress for my sister's wedding cost and she told me that was the reason no turd down. Oh my God. Grandma. Oh. It's so good. It's so good. It's so accurate. Well, thanks for burning down no turd down. Good job. Yeah. You could have just said $250. She told me that that was the reason no turd down caught on fire because I was lying to her. I am not kidding. We know you're not kidding. No, no, we believe you. I asked her recently why my great grandparents decided to move from Italy to the United States.

My grandma mentioned it was because of a curse. Okay. Apparently, my great-grandmother Rosa was the most beautiful girl in her little town in Italy. She married my great-grandfather Nicola and that really pissed off some other guy in town, so he put a curse on them. Sure enough, when they had their first pregnancy, Rosa miscarried. Nicola took this as a sign and decided to move his wife to the U.S. to get away from this curse. They ended up having eight kids. Once I heard this story, a lot of other things made a lot of sense. My great-grandfather was a big believer in tea leaves and would read them to tell baby genders when people were pregnant. On New Year's Eve, when it hits midnight, we open all the cupboards and doors, then bang on

all the biggest pots and pans as loud as we can to frighten out all the troubles of the past year. Oh, I love it. My grandma puts people's names on little scraps of paper when she's mad at them and then freezes them in an ice tray until she's not mad at them anymore. I don't get it. Wow, so vindictive. Well, but also a very kind of personally controlled way. You know what I mean? It's kind of like, it's like saying I'm taking all these feelings and putting them over here. Yeah. But like literally. Yeah. On a positive note, we carry my great-grandmother's name through our family. My aunt's middle name, my sister's middle name, and my niece's middle name were all Rose after our strong, amazing matriarch. Stay sexy and don't be afraid to literally

freeze people out by putting their names in your freezer, Stephanie. Oh, that's a cool grandma story. That's great. I love it. Oh, okay. I'm not going to tell you the name of this one, but it is a doozy. Aloha, ladies, Steven, and pets. For years, I have racked my brain for a story interesting enough to send to you, and I think it finally happened. It's a true silver lining for an otherwise stressful day. Well, I was at work a few weeks ago and my dad was doing me a favor by cementing my shower rod to the wall. My mother, who tagged along with my dad, decided it was a good idea to go through my drawers. Some parents don't understand boundaries even when you're in your 30s. That is so awful. She stumbled upon what she thought was a pack of gummy worms and decided to be generous with

my belongings and give them to my four-year-old neighbor and her pregnant mother as a yummy treat. Well, sounds like a misdemeanor theft to me, but sure, I guess. Unfortunately, no one read a label that closely, and they were not an innocent sugary snack, but rather strong medical grade THC gummies that I used to sleep. Yeah. 500 milligrams in a pack, heavy sigh and a shake of the head even as I type this now. To be clear, I have a half a gummy to sleep and I am a grown woman. My poor nugget of a neighbor had four and her mom had two before they realized something tasted funny, and the package was suspiciously hard to open. Yes, they tasted like weed and

were child-proofed. Yeah. Once my young neighbor began to act oddly tired, the package was inspected a little better and all the warning labels became clear and a frenzy seems to have taken place. A frantic few hours in the ER and my neighbors were all fine. Thank God. Just tired and probably snacky. The police assured my 65-year-old former teacher of a mother who just kept crying and saying she wasn't a drug pusher. Yes, she is. Yeah, you are. Since edible candies became legal, this happened more than people realize. Now my little neighbor has a tricked out remote-controlled Jeep she can cruise around in, fought out of deep guilt and horror, and all is well in our little hamlet of the world. Stay sexy and double-check the label before you drug a toddler with THC

lace gummy worms. Kim, she, her. Stay sexy. If candy is in a nightstand, it's not public candy. No. Why would it be in her nightstand? Why would it be in her nightstand? It's not yours to give away to begin with. It's not yours to be in there. This is why I hope the mom learned a powerful lesson on snooping and minding business in someone else's home. If you're going to be a snooper, which I've already admitted to being, but you will see things you don't want to see, and you'll also fuck things up that you don't realize you're getting your hands in. It's a dirty business. She dosed a toddler and a pregnant woman with four times the amount that a grown woman who is aware of being dosing herself usually takes. I did that to myself the other night with some

new sleep tincture, and I was like, I don't remember what he told me I should take. Boop, up till six in the morning, paranoid. Why would you be up? I get anxious when I'm high, and I just highly dosed myself like hard, and it was just like thinking of all the things all night. It was terrible. It was terrible, and I knew what I was doing. Shit. Yeah. I love that the cops were called and they went to the hospital and shit. Yeah, the cops are just like this again. Yeah. Well, these were a wonderful batch of lessons and family secrets, and we really appreciate you sharing your stories with us. If you have more, please send them to myfavoritmurder at gmail.com. That's right. Thanks, guys. And stay sexy. Oh, and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis,

do you want a cookie? This has been an exactly right production. Our senior producer is Hannah Kyle Crichton. Our producer is Alejandra Keck. This episode was engineered and mixed by Stephen Ray Morris. Our researcher is Gemma Harris. Email your hometowns and fucking hurrays to myfavoritmurder at gmail.com. Follow the show and Instagram and Facebook at myfavoritmurder and Twitter at myfavoritmurder. Listen, follow, and leave us a review on Amazon Music, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. And don't forget you can listen to new episodes one week early on Amazon Music or early and ad free by subscribing to Wondry Plus in the Wondry app. Goodbye.