My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 359

Episode Date: November 27, 2023

This week’s hometowns include an ‘80s Montreal meet cute and a lost cat named Felix.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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That's k-o-o-h-o.ca for more details. You'll also get $20 when you make your first purchase using the code Murder20. That's $20 when you use our code Murder20. Bye-bye. What a life these celebrities lead. Imagine walking the red carpet, the cameras in your face, the design clothes, the worst dress list, big house,

the world constantly peering in, the bursting bank account, the people trying to get the grubby mitts on it. What's he all about? I'm just saying, being really, really famous. It's not always easy. I'm Emily Lloyd-Saini, and I'm Anna Liang-Grofi, And we're the hosts of Terribly Famous from Wondery, the podcast which tells the stories of our favorite celebrities from their perspective. Each season we show you what it's really like being famous by taking you inside the life of a British icon. We walk you through their glittering highs

and eyebrow raising lows and ask, is fame and fortune really worth it? Follow Terribly Famous Now now wherever you get your podcasts or listen early and add free on Wondery Plus on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. I said hello. Hello. Hello. And welcome to my favorite murder, the mini-sode. Oh my goodness, we've been talking about this for so long.

Do I say the mini-sode singular plural? The mini-sode singular. Yeah. Whew. Don't do it again. No, I want to be real. Let's be authentic. We're filming this for the fan cult.

Oh yeah, hi, fan cult. I'm going to have my head turn this way the whole time because I have the largest, or here, I'll just hide it with the microphone. The biggest is it. Feature it as exclusive content for the fan cult only. You should see this zit you guys. Wow. Literally can't see anything. I know I put so much makeup on. Okay many soads we read you your stories. You want to go first to help me to go first?

I'll do it. Okay. Let's see. Okay. It says hometown saved by a piano. Hi Karen and Georgia and all the fuzzy kids. Y'all are fabulous. I love the show. It helps make my work days breeze by. Okay enough of the niceties. Let's get to the murder. There weren't that many niceties. Mm-hmm. You could have had a couple more in there for literally was half a sentence. The following is a story told to me by my father now deceased about his mother, my grandmother, and then at parentheses it says even more deceased. My grandmother, Marianne's family was based in Texarkana, Arkansas, and we're considered, you know, I paused on that AR just now, and we're considered to be one of the wealthier society families in town. Thanks to this wealth and privilege, all of the kids were expected to pursue skills and hobbies,

similar to those of upper-class Victorian children, reading Latin, needle point, musicianship, etc. Oh my God, I would have failed out of that family. Also, it's like the pain of each one. I mean, I guess skills wise, later on, there's skills there. Sure. Ish. Soccer's a skill too, you know?

That's true. So, a shorthand, or we just start naming skills. Marianne was assigned the piano, but luckily, grew to love and even develop a passion for the instrument. By the time she was 16, she was an accomplished pianist in both classical and contemporary styles, and several notable music conservatories had expressed interest in her joining their programs, including offering full-ride scholarships. Sadly, her mother forbade her from pursuing piano as a career because blah blah undignified on becoming

blah. To get back at her mother, Marianne decided to get a degree in microbiology, the ultimate revenge. Yes. Because she knew her mother wouldn't have any idea what it was. That's hilarious. And then it just says anyway, period, and then it's a new paragraph. In April of 1946, the Sammy K. Orkestra came through Texarkana on a DFW tour. Unfortunately, their resident pianist had fallen ill, and Sammy K. himself reached out to the local piano instructor to see if there were any decent pianists who might sit in for a night. The instructor enthusiastically recommended 16-year-old Marianne and immediately made arrangements for her to fill the seat.

Wow. I know, right? So cool. That night on the local DFW stage, my grandmother joined the Sammy K orchestra and played exceptionally with the band for over seven hours and then there's an exclamation point in parentheses, right? As those in attendance dance the night away. Oh my God. She played so well in fact that Sammy even asked if she'd like to join the rest of the tour. She declined as she was still in high school

and knew her parents would not approve. God dammit. Five ways to Sunday. Okay. At around 1.30 a.m. in the morning, as things were finally winding down, Marianne's best friend Betty Jo, who was at the dance with her boyfriend Paul, offered Marianne a ride home. She politely refused because Sammy had asked her to play through to the end

of the event at 2.00 a.m., a mere 30 minutes later, apparently unwilling to wait Betty Jo and Paul left. Marianne finished the gig and was given a ride home on the band's tour bus. And this is where the whole charming story takes up. I know what's going on. What's going on? I'll turn. Oh no. The following morning, the small town awoke to the shocking news that the mutilated bodies of Betty Jo Booker and Paul Martin had been found off of North Park Road, a well-known lover's lane. Oh no, I thought it was going to be a car accident. It was determined that the couple had been the latest victims

of the Phantom Slayer, a serial killer who had been active in the area since February of that year in a spree now known famously as the Texar can of Moonlight murders, briefly covered in M.F.M. and M.E. sode6. You did that one really early on. I don't know, but, oh my God. For years, my grandmother was racked with guilt,

wondering if she had only accepted the right home would her friends have not decided to go to Levers Lane. Ultimately, she surmised that her friends would probably have gone to North Park Road after they dropped her off and would have met their ends that night, no matter what. Also, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. What happened happened? Yeah.

God. It's so horrible we all do that to ourselves. Okay. Stay sexy, play the piano, and catch a ride home with the band, Jen Tacoma, Washington. God. Holy shit. That was really kind of a perfect,

yeah, because it was this beautiful, awesome fun story, and then it had an aspect of true crime in it, and a near miss, like, yeah, oh my God. Great job, Jen. Thank you so much. That was incredible. That was a good one. Okay.

This is actually from an Instagram friend of mine, name Joshua Parker, who sent this to me. Joshua was an actor, a dancer, he's hilarious on Instagram. It just starts hello to everyone and the animals. Growing up, I always wanted to take dance classes. Being a chubby, closeted gay boy in Birmingham, Alabama, I was too scared of what people would think,

but at the age of 17, I finally joined a dance studio. Because I wasn't experienced, I got put in classes with mostly younger girls around 13 or 14 years old. Most of them didn't know how to react to a tall, chubby, somewhat effeminate teenage boy, and neither did I, but we made the most of it, and definitely became a family.

One girl I will always remember for having a warm smile, always laughing at myself, deprecating, and at times insecure jokes, she was always positive and friendly. Being it's a dance class, there isn't a lot of time to talk, and me being the worst at remembering names, I couldn't tell you what hers was, but I never forgot that face. Cut to five years later, 2005, I had moved to Los Angeles to pursue an acting slash dance career. One day, while on the elliptical at Gold's gym in Hollywood, portable CD

player in hand, it says, too poor for a trendy iPod, that friendly face that I'll never forget flashes across the screen. I finally found out that her name is Natalie Holloway. Oh, no. And she had gone missing on her senior trip in Aruba. They searched for her for years, and after all the cards fell, it was alleged that Jordan Vanderslute drugged and murdered her. He was never convicted of her murder, but later did not up in jail for someone else's murder. And this is at it. I first wrote this during the pandemic and decided to resubmit because finally after 18

years, Jordan Vanderslute confessed. His dirtbag finally gave the confession, but only after he was convicted of extortion. It's piece of shit. He was trying to get money at a Natalie's mom in exchange for the details of her murder. He may not be paying for her murder, but hopefully this stunt will keep him behind bars for life. My heart aches for Natalie's mother and family,

but I hope this brings some closure to them and the community. I'm a huge fan of what you guys do. The way you bring light into this dark world would never be forgotten. Telling the stories of victims really helps us all, feels like a safe space to talk about the things that are impossible to talk about. Thank you.

Stay sexy and I say this with my entire heart and soul, don't get murdered. Joshua Parker and he's at Joshua C Parker on Instagram. Joshua, first of all, another perfect hometown, classic hometown and a hometown in your heart, which are not super common, but kind of beautiful, because that's how they all really are, for people that follow to a crime.

But I have to say, the silver lining of that story is that the Shelby little boy that was so embarrassed and all that stuff is like, now I'm in LA to be a dancer and an actor. Not amazing. And obviously doing well at it. Yeah. Like, beautiful, nice one. That's a good one, huh?

Yeah, we were messaging the day that happened. And I was like, send me your hometown. And he's like, well, I've sent it before. And I'm like, send it again. Yeah. There's no denying that holiday shopping can be stressful, especially when you're looking for something meaningful or personal. Luckily, there's an easy and thoughtful solution with the Skylight Digital Picture Frame. Skylight Frame is a touchscreen photo frame you can send photos to, straight from your

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Still, three years later, getting compliments from my mom about how much she loves it, because my brother and sister and I can constantly continue to upload photos to it So it's almost like you're getting a whole new photo album. It is the gift that keeps on giving It's a parent's dream as a special limited time offer for our listeners get $30 off your purchase of a skylight frame when you go to CA dot skylight frame dot com and enter promo code MFM to get $30 off your purchase of the Skylight Frame. Just go to ca.skylightframe.com promo code MFM. That's ca.skyliGHTF-R-A-M-E.com code MFM.

Get $30 Canadian dollars off a Skylight Frame at ca.skylightframe.com promo code MFM. Goodbye. Good bye. Life was anything but easy for Prince Harry. From losing his mom at 12 years old, to being hounded or lentlessly by the press, he endured the constraints of being a part of the royal family. So in an American actress' stole his heart, Harry seized his chance to make the break that shocked the world. Even the rich, Prince Harry, a podcast from Wondry, shows how a young prince, running from his grief, discovered how he and his family had been living in a world ruled by detachment

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You can binge even the rich, Prince Harry, add free right now on Wondering Plus. I'm not going to read you the subject length because I think it gives too much away, but it does say lighthearted in parentheses and then in parentheses it says 3.5 minute read. Love it, love those. Perfect, because it is a tiny bit long,

but I love it. Okay, hello, you self-aware kind, beautiful, hilarious lady. You're so... I am writing to you for the millionth time and praying to the late Carl Sagan, the man I choose to pray to, that this is the one that finally makes the cut. Oh, welcome to the late Carl Sagan, the man I choose to pray to, that this is the one that finally makes the cut. Oh, welcome.

Hey, Carl Sagan. Here you are. Hey, Carl Sagan. My father used to force us to watch Cosmos, which was Carl Sagan show on PBS when we were growing up. And it made me so mad that I started doing an impression of Carl Sagan. Oh, that's for your comedy chops.

It's weird, I'll began it. Billions and impression of Carl Sagan. Oh, that's for your comedy chops. Start it. It's weird, I'll begin. It's billions and billions of light years ago. Here, here. Our story starts in 2006. I am the right page of eight. We are in the upstairs of the fire station in my itty bitty less than 2,000 people hometown

in sea coast, New Hampshire. One of the firefighters is strangely good at special effects makeup and is making a group of about 10 children look close to death. The fire department in my town was volunteer, so my dad joined out of the kindness of his heart when my older brother sister and I were small children. As I used to so obnoxiously say, my dad is an engineer by day and a superhero by night. Helm Jen. Part of a volunteer fire department means volunteer victims for trainings that they would do most Thursdays and the children of the firefighters were usually the ones to do it. Most trainings were the usual talk-through type, but the training this story is about was the real deal, and the only firefighter in the know about what was to be expected was the

one doing our makeup. And then in parentheses, it says, let's call her Jen. So the situation, a crashed Halloween hay ride filled with badly injured children and teens. My role, little girl with gash through her head and anxiously searching for her sister. So they like reenact horrible accidents. With makeup and everything.

Yeah. So basically, you get used to the shock of coming upon a scene like that. And then being a first responder. After our makeup was done and we were all told our roles, we headed out to a local cornfield. It was a cold October night and the air was a little hazy around the tall grass setting the scene.

There was a real hay ride and tractor flipped onto their side to make it look like a crash. Some kids were told to stay near the hay ride. Some of us were to be lost and injured amongst the grass. After asking Jen, many last minute, very specific questions about how she wanted me to play the character. She responded in an annoyed tone. Erin just act hurt and be looking around for your sister. What's my motivation? Yeah, exactly. She's trusting me with creative liberty, I thought, in an annoyed tone. Erin just act hurt and be looking around for your sister. What's my motivation? Yeah, exactly. She's trusting me with creative liberty, I thought, and I was going to make her proud. And then in bold, it says action. Jen made the call over the radio to make it seem like a real emergency. The fire trucks and ambulances started to pull in a few minutes later with their sirens blaring.

I took a deep breath, channeled my character, and the tears started pouring down my face. Wow. Where's my sister? I kept asking the same question like a broken record player, but I cycled through fear, anxiety, anger, sadness throughout my performance. The whole training lasted about half an hour. I was giving it my all the whole time. I sobbed into a firefighter's arms. I yelled at some of the EMTs to leave me and find my sister. I even added in a couple kicks and shoves to give it a little extra pizzazz.

Wow. There's no way a real kid who had head trauma and couldn't find her sister would be acting rationally, right? I was my character, my character was me. My grand finale was finally finding my sister emerging from the tall grass and me sprinting to her and loudly sobbing into her shoulder. I love this child. The funniest part about this whole thing is that I was truly the only person that was taking it seriously.

Not one other kid was crying or even acting upset. I later found out that my brother and sister were holding in laughs the entire time seeing how ridiculous I was being. As a kid, I was so authentic and unapologetically myself and I missed that. That being said, I was so damn embarrassing. This person is telling my life story right now. That's amazing. You only realize after you do it that no one else is going to do it that way where you're like, I thought we all understood what acting was. But you're also like, I'm the only one, like I'm the best one, clearly. Yes, like they suck. You're going to give it and you're going to beat everybody, but then you realize no one's running this race with you. Right, there's no awards for this. No one has the interest of doing it. When we got back to the fire station to do a debrief on how it

went, which the kids were not supposed to be a part of, but my dad was my right home, I made sure to share my thoughts about how some of the other actors could have been more dedicated to their roles. Oh my God. The firefighters were well confused by my unwavering commitment to the bit or overall appreciative that I gave them a more realistic experience. I even made some of them tear up in the moment because they felt like I was a real victim. And not to brag, but they did say I deserved an Oscar for best performance.

S-S-D-G-M and always commit to the bit, Aaron, she, her. Amen. So good. Great job, Aaron. I could definitely see myself doing something like that. Like the youngest, so you want the most attention out of everyone. Yes.

You need it. This is how my parents started dating a celebrity meatcute story. Oh. Dear Karen and Georgia. A while back, you were discussing meatcutes as well as celebrity encounters, and it took me until about three months later to put together that I have a great meatcute story with a real celebrity involved. Let me set the stage.

It's the four seasons hotel in Montreal in the 1980s. Amazing. There's a cloud of smoke from people still lighting up cigarettes indoors. My mom is the hotel restaurant manager with earring so big and heavy that to this day, her earlobes have slits rather than holes in them. That's my grandmother too.

Yeah. And everyone my grandmother too. Yeah. And everyone is speaking French. My mom in her early 20s and truly a stunning beauty is also part of Montreal High Society and getting a lot of attention from people around her. Even the hotel manager is flirting and has a big crush on her. Coming into the picture now is Christopher Reeve,

a K.A. Superman at the height of his fame. Wow. God, he was so handsome. He was the Henry Caval of my childhood. I don't know what that means. Oh, yeah. Did I mean Superman? Yeah, I mean clearly.

But he's like, has a lot of humility. He is Superman. He's Superman. He's like shy and goofy, but he's also like, no, you're not goofy or like a linebacker. Yeah, and gorgeous, that job. Yeah, okay. I do not know the details exactly,

but I'm assuming he went to have dinner and saw my mom working, was completely stunned by her beauty and asked her to go out on the spot. And they did. They went to a hockey game and were photographed by Papa Rotsie. And it says, there is a grainy photo in a drawer somewhere,

but Loll if you think my mom would let me share it. A big problem in the short-lived relationship, however, is that my mom barely spoke English at the time. Serred Montreal. Classic Montreal of like, giz-giz-yay. Can you imagine watching an ice hockey match with Superman and darely being able to communicate? Well, that's what happened. Long story short, I don't think they ever saw each other again. But that's not the real story here. This is the story of my parents.

And so did you think my dad was Christopher Reeve? No, no, after my mom got back from her big date with a celebrity and literally making the newspapers, the Flirty Hotel Manager finally decided enough was enough and asked her out. That's right, the Hotel Manager is my dad. Oh, it's my late face. They were married within a year and have been together since.

My dad, who for my dad, who for story writing purposes, took a back seat here is the real Superman in this story and I'm lucky to have two incredible parents who love each other. Thanks for reading and I love the podcast. Best Andrea. Andrea, did Andrea grow up like Hellouese in a hotel where her parents were like the manager and the restaurant manager?

Oh my god, you have like the keys to every hotel, every room, you just like go have fun. You're like, I will run through this lobby. No one can keep me from doing it. That was awesome. I do love any kind of a celebrity encounter. Like, it truly, if you passed somebody and one minor thing happened, we want to hear about it. Totally, totally.

Hi, it's me, the Grand Poova of Bahambad, the OG Green Grump, the Grinch. From Wandery! Tis the Grinch holiday talk show is a pathetic attempt by the people of O'Vill to use my situation as a teachable moment. So join me, the Grinch, along with Cindy Luhu, and of course my dog Max every week for this complete waste of time. Listen as I launch a campaign against Christmas cheer, grilling celebrity guests, like chestnuts on an open fire.

Now try to get my heart to grow a few sizes, but it's not gonna work, honey. Your family will love the show! As you know, I'm famously great with kids. Follow Tiz the Grinch Holiday Talk Show on the Wondery app, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Tiz the Grinch Holiday Talk Show on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Tiz the Grinch Holiday Talk Show early and add free right now by joining Wondery Plus. My last one is, I'm not going to read you this subduct line. It says, hello, MFM crew and assorted for babies. They're trying to make me mad.

First, I'd like to say thank you for all you do. Listening has helped me stay motivated to follow my dream of eventually working in forensic science. Yes. So yes. Wow. Moving on to the story, my uncle and his previous girlfriend of many years were so in love and he even took in her two daughters as his own. Unfortunately, she was battling with mental health, and she took her own life some time before I was born. He has never been the same sense, but he continued to be present in her daughter's lives, making sure to be there for everything. Fast forward to about a year ago, he had just moved into a gorgeous house in a tiny town, lots of cemeteries from the 1800s. Unfortunately, the house being old and all required a lot of maintenance. So one day he had to drive down to meet someone

about the electrical. While he was driving, his house caught fire and completely burned to the ground. Everything inside was gone. The only thing completely untouched and recovered was a box full of his girlfriend's things, pictures, jewelry, all the good memories. As if that wasn't enough, almost a year later, while doing the demolition,

the demo team spotted another box, and yet it was more of her things. Holy shit. The only explanation any of us can think of is that she knew how much it meant to him and kept it safe. Oh, love you all, stay sexy and remember that not all spirits are bad. That was a lovely, oh my god. I mean, so sad. So hard and difficult and then beautiful. Yeah, really beautiful. Okay, my last one, oh conveniently, because Doddy's right here is called Talk to the Cats. Last December, I moved to a small rural town in Mexico with my partner, with our two dogs and two cats.

We arrived around 4 a.m. and in the excitement and chaos of being greeted by family and friends, waiting for us, one of my cats, Felix, got loose and ran off into the woods. As soon as the sun came up, I went looking for him and spent the next several days calling to him with treats, posting in local check groups, and going door to door to my new neighbors asking if they'd seen my large black and white tuxedo cat that I knew was terrified of strangers. Everyone told me not to worry, cats always find their way back, but I was worried since he ran away before even entering the new yard or house where we'd be living.

Sorry, Doddy. Doddy just looked straight down the barrel of the camera. And she almost looked like a newscaster for one second. It was like, hello. Okay. That's six o'clock. She's distracting for sure. Sorry.

No, no, no, no, it's perfect. It's themed. Okay. A few days later, my parents' daughter approached me quite seriously, saying she knew exactly what I needed to do to find my cat. I was excited. I figured she knew of a good Facebook group or animal shelter to check. But no, she told me I needed to talk to all the cats in the area. I need to tell them that I'm looking for him, that we miss him, and that he should come home. I didn't think much of this advice until Christmas Eve, which was spent celebrating in the next town over about five kilometers away. After several glasses of wine, something came

over me, and I went out in the street and began pleading to all the cats I could see to please help me find deer phelix. A little over a week later, we had just gotten back in town after spending New Year's away and stopped by the same house we'd spent Christmasy. I had my little dog with me and decided to take it for a quick walk around the blocks since he'd been in the car for a while. I'd only been walking him a few feet, gently talking to him out loud. When I heard a cat scream meowing from the neighboring yard. Oh, yay. My first thought was, man, I really missed my cat. I wonder what that one is yelling about. The meowing continued, so out of curiosity, I followed the meows along the dark hedges

that line the wrought iron fence until, in the moonlight where the hedges cleared, I found myself face-to-face with Felix. Having many years ago dealt with a mental health crisis that caused hallucinations, I did wonder for a moment if that was happening again. But no, I was indeed looking at my cat. I immediately went and picked him up.

He was a little thinner. He'd always been a big boy, but seemed absolutely fine. Have you seen that one meme where it's too fat black and white catch there are almost identical and someone said I found my cat last week and then my cat came home this week.

And they literally, it's the same cat. It's the same cat. Yeah, it totally reminds me of that. In shock, I whacked back to the house where everyone was. My dog trailing behind me as I had momentarily forgotten about him, just stood there holding the cat until they noticed me and all looked as surprised as I felt. It seemed like a miracle to find him that far

from where I'd lost him. To this day, we don't really know how he got there. A neighbor later told us that they'd seen that cat in the area for at least a week digging in a trash. We don't have trash collection services in our town, and we often send our trash to this house for pickup. This is also a house we visit often. Our car is often parked outside, and the car

is the one we traveled with the cat when moved from the US to Mexico. In our circle, there is a divide between those who think he simply walked from our town to the other and those who think he may have jumped on a truck. Even the trash truck. Oh, regardless, this is a story that I've told over and over and continues to misstify all how the cat found me after nearly three weeks in a foreign place he had never been. Wow. Stay sexy and if you lose your cat,

tell the other cats in the area to help. That rules. The idea of that as a solution is hilarious. It makes sense to me. Yeah, because cats are always like gossiping and talking and you know, like crows. How like if one crows like that guy is a bad guy then like all the crows in the neighborhood know.

Yeah. I heard, but maybe this is just for dogs, put your shoes outside so they can smell and find the scent. I heard that about the cat's litter box. Oh, you put their litter box outside and then the other smell. They never come back. Yeah, I'm like, clean my fucking litter box. They're like, disgusting.

That was quite a batch. Is that it? Yeah, that was a good one. You guys, please write your story. Write it again, send it again if you haven't been picked. Again, huge gmail inbox. Give us another chance. We care.

We do. My favorite murder at gmail. Stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Good night. Good night. Elvis, do you want a cookie? This has been an exactly right production.

Our senior producer is Alejandra Keck. Our editor is Aristotle Acevedo. This episode was mixed by Leonis Kulachi. Email your hometowns to my favorite murder at gmail.com. And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at my favorite murder and on Twitter at my fave murder. Goodbye. Listen, follow and leave us a review on the Wondry app,

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