My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 337

Episode Date: June 26, 2023

This week’s hometowns include a small town murder in Australia and a friendly theater ghost.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It's hard to imagine losing a loved one, a wife, a husband, a child. For many, it's their biggest fear. Amarissa Jones, host of The Vanished. A podcast that tells the stories of often overlooked and unsolved missing persons' cases, in an effort to uncover the truth. Listen to The Vanished on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts. Journalist Kate Winkler-Doson is back with a third season of her true crime talk show 10 Fold More Wicked Presents, Wicked Words.

Season three of Wicked Words is out now with new episodes every Monday. Each week, journalists, historians, and buried bones co-host Kate Winkler-Doson interviews, journalists, authors, and true crime luminaries about their most intriguing cases. These are the stories behind the stories. Please stay tuned at the end of this mini-sode for the season three trailer for Wicked Words with Kate Winclard-Ossin. And you can get new episodes of Wicked Words every Monday when you subscribe to the 10 fold more Wicked Feed

on Amazon Music, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you like to listen. Goodbye. Goodbye. Bye. I'm not saying hello. Hello. Hello. And welcome to my favorite murder, the mini-sode.

That's right. This is our first recording back from break. Will we be able to read emails? Probably not. I could barely function. It's a big difference between working brain and vacation brain. Absolutely. Do you want to go first? Sure.

I really like this email. It's the subject line is a small town Australian murder. Hello, my queens. I'm now to my third listen through of your entire episode catalog. And I follow sleep to your voices every single night. I've tried many other podcasts, including ones actually designed for sleep,

but for some reason your voices are the only ones I can listen to. Is saying your voice has put me to sleep and insult? Perhaps certainly not intended. I don't mind. It's fine. If you ever make your way back to Australia for a tour, here's hoping I just don't pass out right there on the audience as soon as you start chatting away.

Some nights I forget to set the spot if I sleep timer and wake up at 2 a.m. to something ungodly morbid or drunk Karen was bringing my ear. Anyways, enough of my sleep schedule I suppose. Here's a short. Love it. That's how to do it. This is one of the great lines of any email that we've read. I'm from a small country town in Australia.

Think that everyone knows everyone vibe of Pentaluma that Karen talks about. Pentaluma that Karen talks about. Pentaluma. Then divide the population by six. Truly everyone knows everyone. In 2016 a man died in a house fire and news spread quickly, especially when it was revealed that he was murdered prior to the house being deliberately set a light. It was the first local murder in my 19 years of growing up there and the town went mad. Streets were closed down as the police used drones to search for the murder weapon.

It was like they finally got to use 19 years of murder-solving budget at once and went big. And everyone was pretty nervous. I was freshly graduated and enjoying the two months of fucking around rent free at my parents before I moved off to college. When this neighbor came over and asked to speak to my mom, we didn't have much to do with this neighbor, so this was pretty odd, but I told her my mom was at work. She asked me to get my mom to come see her as soon as she got home.

Of course, when my mom got home, I immediately forgot. Mm-hmm, of course. It's just like you can't ask teenagers to do anything. No. No. The answers know they can't say it for themselves. The answers know. I immediately forgot and didn't mention the neighbor's visit because I'm a forgetful

little fool. Your brain isn't done fucking forming it. It's okay. There's all these weird chemicals and hormones in your brain distracting you from everything. A few days passed and the murderer was caught. He'd killed another man with an axe over what the media described as a love triangle turned bloody. That afternoon my mom and the neighbor chatted over the fence. So turns out our neighbor's husband was best friends with the man who was murdered and knew who the killer was right away. He'd called the killer accusing him,

and then in parentheses it says, imagine that phone call, and then the killer threatened he would be next. The neighbor was alerting my mom in case, I don't know, we heard our neighbors being murdered in the coming days, and to please call the police. Thankfully, things didn't end up that way, and Oldmate was caught and

charged with life before he could go for our neighbors. Anyways, always remember to take a memo with love, Grace Sheer. Whoa. Like, he was on a killing spree if he hadn't caught and caught. I mean, I love that the neighbor was like, we need you guys to know about this. That's so just smart and important thing to do. It's responsible. Do not leave a message of that importance with a teen. Never leave a message with a teenager. Never.

It's a rule here. I think I have to tell you a very, very quick story. OK. Because I have a story just like this. So when my dad was still in the firehouse, still working in the firehouse, one of his very good friends, Jack Conway, died of a was still in the firehouse, still working in the firehouse, one of his very good friends, Jack Conway, died of a heart attack in the firehouse. It was very sad and very awful. And so my dad's friend Woody called because my dad was already at the firehouse

and Woody was at home. And they had to, when there's a funeral, you have to wear your service uniform, which firemen don't normally. It's always a t-shirt and some weird pants, but they have to go full firemen's uniform. And so, Woody called and said, can you get your mom to get your dad's service uniform ready? And please remember to tell her. Oh, no. To tell her.

And I was like, yeah, yeah, yeah, and I've 16. So of course, I don't remember. And the next morning, Woody shows up at the front door in his service uniform, which is also what they do when they inform the family that a fireman has died in a fire. So the second my mom opened the door, she thinks it's Woody there to tell her that my dad is dead.

Oh, my God. And he immediately knows that it was me. So he goes, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, but my mom was like, could you please think about other people? Where I was like, how about I get this backstory next time? Because I just thought it was like almost like a laundry exchange. Yeah, I and your brothers, you know, boys got uniform, like, okay. Yeah, not put the scare, the living life out of your own mother. Okay. My first one's called the Nettle Detector hometown. Yeah, not put the scare the living life out of your own mother.

Okay. My first one's called the Metal Detector hometown. Hell yeah. Hey, are we two a metal detector stories? I think we are since you two talked about the detector as on a recent episode. Yes, we always want to hear metal detector stories. Metal detector stories are basically all treasure stories, right? Except when they're true crime stories and mine is. This is a really good one. Okay. In college, my very best friend in the whole world was murdered. We were 20 years old and we met at college orientation. It was one of those times when you meet someone and instantly recognize that they're going

to be a good friend. Like love it for a sight, but for besties. We were classmates, roommates, and we promised to marry each other if we didn't find someone else to marry before we were 40. And I want to tell everyone that 40 is not that old. So please take a step back. Yeah, you got to lift up that cutoff rate. Yeah, it sounds old, I know. But anyway, Richard was a metal detector enthusiast and belonged to a metal detector club. He loved scouring old battlefields for historical artifacts, which he always turned over to the appropriate authorities and beaches, lakes, rivers,

and oceans. He wasn't picky for treasure that he did not turn over to any authorities. He gave me lots of little treasures, a pretty little ring from the 1960s, old coins coins and lots of little shiny things. The story of his murder is too hard for me to tell in detail here, but in a nutshell, he was back home in his small town in Oklahoma

at his dad's house when some evil men decided he was to quote different, probably gay and attacked and killed him with their knives. Afterwards, they threw the murder weapons into a lake. How do we know the murder weapons were in a lake? All caps. Because of the motherfucking metal detector club, when they heard about the murder and that the murder weapons

hadn't been recovered, they jumped into action and set up a grid and meld detected the shit out of the area. They recovered the knives and some items stolen from my friend. The tests on those items help lead to the arrest and conviction of the two men who are serving life in prison for my friend's murder. I am forever grateful to that group of detectors for stepping up and getting shit done

that helped bring a little bit of closure to me and everyone who loved Richard. Love the podcast. Keep doing what you're doing. I'm thankful that you and people like you have normalized making mental health a priority. Stay sexy and always stay on the good side of the tech-dress. Okay, she, her. God, that's a beautiful story. Isn't that beautiful? And so horrible. And like this idea that when sometimes you give people an opportunity to do good with what they know and they jump to, that's all the best parts of people being involved in.

being citizen solicits. So it's people always want to talk about the negative and like the lawsuits and all that shit, which is valid. But there's also so much good, so much good. Yeah. A lot of humanity in the face of they're not being any at all. Yeah, yeah, it's beautiful. Looking for love, I'm Jujubi. And on this season of Queen of Hearts,

we're going all the way down to sunny sexy Miami. I'm setting up the hottest singles in South Florida. Maybe I can find them their perfect partner, or someone to fulfill their sexiest fantasies. A man who unconditionally loves me and is a raging feminist and then ties me up, rubbing oils on me, then surprise gets a girl to lick my face and another guy to put it in my, and as a huge,

but remember, there's a twist. No one can see each other until the very end cameras on oh Got me blessed follow Queen of Hearts on Amazon music or wherever you get your podcasts You can listen ad free on Amazon music included with prime download the Amazon music app now Or you can listen ad free by subscribing to Wonderly Plus and Apple Podcasts or the Wonderly App. Well, we're gonna take a little bit of a left hand turn.

Let's do it. Let's keep the spooky roller coaster stories going, and then it says late-hearted. Hello all, I just listened to Minnesota 332 that had that truly stomach churning story about a roller coaster attendant forgetting to lock everyone's seat belts. He.

Well, allow me to take you back in time to the now defunct amusement park, P&E Park, located in the heart of America, Omaha, Nebraska. Have you heard of this place? No. It sounds like it's the, what's it called, action park of the Midwest.

Mm-hmm. In the Jersey, yeah. It was the early 80s, and my dad and his siblings were all in high school and working at Pianney Park on the evenings and weekends to make a couple bucks. That year, the park decided to spice things up for Halloween by renaming all the rides to be more spooky and on theme. Think killer, carousousel and the like.

The biggest ride a roller coaster called Galaxy's Orbit was also imaginatively renamed coaster O-Death. Stay cool. My dad's older brother was pretty artsy, so he was even given creative liberties to put up a new temporary sign for the ride. His sign depicted a cartoony image of a crash roller coaster in golden flames with bodies flying out of the seats. Seriously, where were the PR people to put a stop to this? It was the 80s, they didn't exist.

No. It's almost like the spooky spirits just couldn't resist. One October night as the coaster of death was click, click, click, clicking up the first big hill of the ride, a resounding crack was heard throughout the entire park. The massive chain that pulls the coaster up the initial hill had literally snapped into. The coaster sped backwards down the hill

and slammed back into its starting position. Thankfully, the coaster O-Death did not live up to its name, though many people on board were later transported to the hospital to treat the effects of major whiplash. That absolutely blows. Traumatic. And what were my dad and his siblings up to amid this chaos, you ask? They were racing as fast as they could to rip down that God for sake and sign before the police arrived. You can always count on teenagers to do whatever it takes to save their own asses.

Oh my God. And also back in the 80s, you could always rely on major corporations to put everything in the hands of a couple 18 year olds. Totally, totally. Piany Park closed in 1994 and I think the world is a safer place now. Stay sexy and don't tempt the spirits. Carly, she, her. hilarious. Can we get more amusement park stories please? We love them so much. Anywhere. Also, those ones are nice when they're it isn't the coaster of death and you're like, oh, yeah, the worst case scenario. It's more of just like awful. Yeah, look at how terrible this was.

Yeah. Okay, this one's called your friendly neighborhood theater ghost. Hello all furry and otherwise, then it says, I will let you pick which column you fit into. I was driving to work today, listening to your hometowns, trying to think of a story worthy of writing

when the faith's aligned. When you read the story of the forbidden theater props, it came to me. I have been a professional theater technician for Grumble, Grumble 20 years or so, and theaters are notorious for being haunted. When I was still in college, I did a couple of calls at a seriously haunted theater, calls, I guess that means plays. Yeah, you get called into it, I guess so. Like a... Oh, like a call sheet.

Yeah. Okay. This theater was built on the location of a relocated cemetery. Yes, just like in the movie Poulterguys. No. The story goes that the cemetery flooded and so they dug up everyone and moved them to a more stable location. One coffin could not be found and that was the one belonging to the first person sentenced to hang for murder in the city.

Who chose that? Why would you- don't leave that one behind? Let's just leave it. Years later, a theater was built over the cemetery location, and apparently at least one spirit decided to stick around. The theater ghost is affectionately called Albert and has his own reserve seat for every performance. It's Z24, is a seat. Albert's antics are mostly just mischievous, random piano playing, lights turning on, the seat lowering as the show begins,

and folding back up as it ends. That's very creepy. Can you imagine you're sitting in the seat next to it? And you're just like, this is the go see. Z23 is not having a good time during that. During that musical of anti-mame or whatever. Fun stuff like that, but one story in particular is told by the text who work backstage. When working at heights, the crew need to wear harnesses to protect them if they fall.

One day a crew member didn't clip in properly and went about their work on the catwalk, which is about 30 feet above the audience seating. Suddenly, they heard a voice that didn't recognize yelling at them to clip in. They turned around, saw the problem, and clipped the harness in properly. Moments later, the light that they were working on fell and they fell along with it. Oh, shit. Instead of falling likely to their death, they were hanging safely from the harness, they were just told to fix. None of the other crew working that day heard the voice. I don't know if it's just a story told to all the new crew to make them follow the safety rules,

but I prefer to think it was Albert making amends for his crimes when he was alive. safety rules, but I prefer to think it was Albert making amends for his crimes when he was alive. Stay sexy and don't sit in CZ24, it's Albert's Rebecca. Oh, I love that. I mean, to give the old murderer a redemptive arc, who's great didn't get moves. Sure. Okay, we can do it that way. That's a new way. Sure. Okay, here's my last one. I'm not going to reach you. They subjectly, you know, it's hilarious. Hello, everyone. I've written in before with fun intros and all the thank yous, but this is a short story. So I'm going to skip over all of that. And then apprentice. He says, I guess if you're interested, you'll have to read my crime related hometowns. And then there's a little winky emoji. I

and then there's a little winky emoji. I went to a very small high school, graduated with 17 people. That is so much. That's very small. And during my prom, my junior year, we had a money booth. Yay! What a perfect solution to like, what are the odds you're going to go to prom with someone you actually like when you only graduate with 17 people?

So how about we bring money into the equation? Oh yeah, love it. We were all obviously excited about this since only actual students could participate, not dates, and there couldn't have been more than 40 of us. This meant the winnings would be good. The girls were really smart with their strategies. Many of them used the outer layer of their skirts to catch bills like a big net. But me, well, I wasn't blessed with boobs until my late 20s. So I had a bit of an extra room in the chest area. I grabbed as many bills as I could

and promptly shoved them down my top. Most of the money was in $1 bills to make the game last, but I counted out a total of $176. Holy shit. As soon as I got out and excused myself to the ladies room, the best part, however, was when I got home that night, took off my dress and a $20 bill fell out onto my lap. It was some of the most fun I've ever had and a great memory to bring up at parties. Big shout out to the people who made that possible.

Reagan. Just a wonderful memory that Reagan's sharing with us. I love it. Thank you, Reagan. Just open up your prom dress and get that dollar dollar bills, y'all. As a small, titted girl, I appreciate your strategy. Like I use that space for something.

You know what I mean? It's like, yeah. It's not used for any, it doesn't hold up my dress. It's just like, let's use it for once in our lives. Let's use it as an advantage at the prom goddammit. That's right. Okay, I'm not gonna read you the last subject line. It's just called house cleaning.

And it starts, you two are the comedians and an overly witty greeting feels like stepping on your toes. Nice. Plus, I don't want to accidentally use a phrase like fur babies and ruin your whole week. So high and mad love to all. Recently, you called out for housekeeping stories and I was all hell to the yeah, here we go.

I think it was my sophomore year in high school and my friend L and I were trying for some extra money when the opportunity arose to clean my older sister's boyfriend's apartment. We felt so sophisticated having just launched your own business and all. The plan, we take the train by ourselves to the city, clean, galvan around,

and he drop us back at the station when he finished work. The scene, his place was a, quote, bachelor in his late 20s, gross. But we kept eyes on the prize. Cold, hard cash. Oh god, bachelor's in their 20s apartments. It's disgusting. Is there enough cash in the world? All I can picture is t-shirts used as pillowcases. Or just no pillowcases, no, or no pillowcases. No bottom sheet.

That's the one that really is like something's very wrong. You don't have to live this way. Sheets are very basic. That's true. Okay, nothing too remarkable as we tore through the kitchen, bath, and bedroom. As we met up to tackle the living room together, the first thing I noticed was the mess on the coffee table.

Two big ash trays overflowing with butts and gray powdery ash alongside of a mirror with a bunch of white powdery quote ash all over it. What a slob. I got right to it, tossed the butts and grabbed the vacuum. Once all the powder was sucked up, I washed the ash trays and even windexed the mirror to a perfect shine. The mirror. We finished up, grabbed lunch, and hung out in town a while. We headed back to the apartment, helped ourselves at the beer in his fridge, and watched TV waiting for our payout and ride back to the station.

A while later, he arrived home and remarked how the place looked and smelled great. Yes, mission accomplished. And big tip coming our way. Then he looked over at the coffee table, my labor of love, quote, shit, where is it? What did you do with it? Please tell me what you did with it. With what I asked forplexed with my fucking cocaine. You're what? I squealed. I vacuumed up everything on the table. It was really gross. Why would you

leave that out? And you smoked too much. Visibly frustrated, he clamped his hands together behind his head and the jacket he was wearing opened enough to reveal a glimpse of a holster. What? L and I may have been too young to discern tobacco ash from cocaine, but we'd watch enough episodes of Hunter to know a sidearm when we saw one. Hunter!

A little scared and a lot mad. I piped up. We're 14. We didn't know what it was. Now give us our money and take us back to the train or I'm telling my sister, which he did. It would be at least a decade before I tried cocaine out for myself and realized all the speedy thrills I dropped him of. Oh well, fuck that guy. He was a dirtbag. Thanks for keeping me company on long and short commutes. I love your inclusivity and candor surrounding mental health issues. Stay sexy. And don't worry, Mom, I'm not a drug addict. I just did a few lines in my mid 20s. Kate, she, her, they, them. Oh, shit. That guy. Okay. Why did he leave it out? Or like, say something?

Yes. All on him. Yeah. Why bother having a gun in a holster like a big bad gangster? When you're not smart enough to wrap your shit up and hide it in the like desk drawer. Yeah. For sure. Are you new? What are you doing? Are you new to cocaine? Like what the fuck? Always hide cocaine. You have to hide cocaine when you're doing cocaine. You don't see it's expensive.

Because then everyone starts asking you for some and then they want to like hang out. It's addictive. Everybody wants to shit the second they do it. It's one of the many drugs that you're like, you start and you're like, this is the best ever. And then and two hours later, you're like, this was the worst decision I've ever made. In every way. Say no, just say no, kids. Just say no, just trust us. Trust us. Trust us.

Please send us your fucked up drug stories. Please add my favorite murder at Gmail. Thank you for listening. And stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie?

This is Kate Linkler Dawson inviting you to the brand new season of my true crime talk show. That's right. It's season three of Tinfeldmore Wicked Presents Wicked Words. I'm a true crime historian and author and you may have heard my other podcasts on exactly right. Tinfold War Wicked and Buried Bones, where I take an investigative look into history's most compelling true crime cases. On each new episode of Wicked Words, I interview other journalists, podcasters, and authors about the fascinating behind-the-scenes stories

from their investigations in the world of True Crime, many of which have never been shared before. These are the stories behind the stories. On our third season of Wicked Words, I talked to Jamie Gearing about her book, Mad Man in the Woods, Life Next Store to the Unibomber, a haunting account of her youth. When she discovers the odd recluse living next store was Ted Kaczynski. And I journey to Vera Cruz, Mexico, along with associated press

Mexico Bureau Chief Catherine Corcoran, author of the critically acclaimed book, In the Mouth of the Wolf. Corcoran investigates the silencing of the Free Press and the murder of a legendary journalist on the verge of exposing government corruption. And I chat with author Amit Katwala about tremors in the blood, murder, obsession, and the birth of the lie detector about a summer evening in 1922 when the San Francisco police turned to a new technology to solve a murder. He unravels the incredible truth behind the polygraph, and he gives us a warning from history about what we believe to be true. So join me in a new special guest each week for the third season of Wicked Words, as we dive into

the stories behind the stories. Tinfold More Wicked presents Wicked Words Season 3 premieres on Monday, June 26th, on exactly right, with new episodes every Monday. Follow Wicked Words on Amazon Music, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Wicked Words early and add free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today. Our producer is Alejandra Keck, and this episode was engineered and mixed by Stephen Ray Morris. Ta-da! Email your hometowns and fucking arrays to my favorite murder at gmail.com.

Follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at my favorite murder and Twitter at my fave murder. Goodbye! Listen, follow, leave a serve of you on Amazon Music, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, prime members, did you know that you can listen to my favorite murder early and ad free on Amazon Music? Download the Amazon Music app today. You can support my favorite murder by filling out a survey at Wendery.com slash survey. by filling out a survey at Wendery.com slash survey.