My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 366

Episode Date: January 15, 2024

This week’s hometowns include an ancestor’s assassination and a ghost dog story. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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["Money Sense"] ["Money Sense"] Hello! Hello! And welcome to my favorite murder, the mini-sode. The mini-sode. Little one. You want to go first this time? Oh yeah, I sure do.

The subject line of this email is Ancestor Beheading in parentheses lighthearted. And then it says, I mean for a beheading. Okay. Then it starts, what's up bitches. And then in parentheses, it says, I'm sorry, I got excited. I love the show. And I think of both of you as friends at this point. Here is my story. Not long ago, one of my kids needed to make a family tree for school. My brother had been creating one through the ancestry website. So I popped over there to take a family tree for school. My brother had been creating one through the ancestry website, so I popped over there to take a look. After the schoolwork was done,

I told my daughter to hit the road so I could really research into all of this family stuff that I never looked at. Of course, just wanting to see how long everyone lives and how they died. Most family was boring, and then parentheses, it says boring but old when they died, so yay for me. Then I found one that was from 1664 that said assassinated.

Apparently, Grandpa was a politician who was part of one of the registrides that got King Charles the first executed, and then years later, an agent of the crown was sent after him. Then I saw that his wife was lady Alice Lyle, the last woman to have been executed by judicial sentence of beheading in England. Holy shit. And then in parentheses it says these two were quite the crazy couple. Yeah. Short story in 1685 after the Battle of Segemoor, grandma agreed to shelter a non-conformist and his friend. And then in front of the house, I don't know, two outlaws, I guess.

In her barn, and the next morning, she was arrested for harboring traitors. Lady Lyle, in like quoted quotes, who often fell asleep during the trial, was found guilty in sentence to being burnt at the stake. Oh dear. Because it's a 1600. But later changed to be heading due to her social status. Her last night, she slept at the eclipse in where they constructed her scaffolding outside her room. I'm sure it was a great

night's sleep hearing people build your beheading area for the next morning. She stepped out of her window and was publicly executed the next morning. After these two, the rest of my family's pretty tame. Thanks for all the funny moments when I walk my dogs in the morning listening to you two, stay sexy and don't fall asleep at your own trial, M. E-M, like Emily. Wow, that is wild. That's quite something to discover in your ancestry. Where it's like, did you have that feeling

that you had like murdered royalty in your family? Or like a cool rebellious couple somewhere in your family? Like I bet they were fun to have a party's right? I bet. Do they have parties back then? Hell yeah! Sanctions! That's rad. Wow. Okay. My teacher, the murderer, three minute read. Let's look. We will do that. Hi, MFM crew. Love you all. Now let's get down to business. In elementary school, my music teacher moved to Hawaii mid-year while her husband was on sabbatical.

This brought in a substitute teacher. I remember her as a typical elementary music teacher, warm nature, with a booming voice, but you better be ready to start singing your part of a round and don't even think about tooting that recorder out of turn. Anywho, fast forward a few years later, she had been arrested and charged with the murder of her husband. My young murdering no mind couldn't believe it. The short short version is her husband had been cheating on her.

They were separated and he had an apartment in a nearby town. She went to the apartment to see him and his mistress was there. Chaos ensued and at some point she had got into the apartment. Her version of what happened next is that she felt in fear for her life, picked up a pairing knife, and her husband came around the corner and ran into the knife at chest level. In an interview with police, she said she only meant to hurt him. Although very short, the blade nicked his heart and he died within a few hours.

This crime rocked our college town community. It was a shocking and silatious story and you better believe I checked the newspaper daily as more details emerged. And that's the story of my teacher, the murderer. On a personal note, a heartfelt thank you goes out to you, Karen and Georgia, for being with me through life's big ups and downs over the years. Much love and SSDGM, Jana, she, her. God. That's a really rough, connected hometown. Yeah.

I mean, that's a real loss. It's just sad all around. Yeah. Didn't have to happen. Feels like it's that kind of, yeah, awful. All right. This one is fifth grade fortune teller story. Hey, y'all.

I've been a listener since 2018 and routinely go back and listen to old episodes when I'm feeling stressed. Y'all are the best. On with the story, I really love a clean, clear, direct compliment. No frills, but really straight to the heart. Yeah, it's a good one. Actually, it was an compliment. She was just talking about her listening habit. And I'm interpreting it as a compliment. You gotta take it where you can find it. Anywhere. On with the story. In a recent mini-sode, you told the story of someone attending a fifth grade classmate's birthday party, which featured a fortune telling grandma. Well, I just so happened to be a fifth grade fortune teller. My middle school had one higher learning level class in every grade, and this class occasionally got special privileges. In fifth grade, that special privilege was Box City. For one week, our classroom was transformed into a miniature city of

little businesses, all housed inside refrigerator boxes. Sounds like a dream. Each student decorated their own box and came up with a business plan for something to sell to other classes who could come into our city and spend box city bucks on the various offerings. Some students brought their Xbox and charged per minute of playing time, other sold homemade silly putty, others painted fingernails, I being the weirdo that I was told fortunes. Love that person. I spent my week in box city in entirely too much costume jewelry, pretending to read palms, staring into my crystal ball.

Staring into my crystal ball in a parentheses that says, one of those rotating multicolored party lights. Nice. That was the crystal ball. And selling my collection of fortune cookie fortunes. I had an absolute blast, but there were, of course, a couple moments of drama. The first was on the opening day of Box City. Our principal, Mrs. Doyle, a deeply religious woman, took one look at my box, clutched her

pearls and said, oh no, I can't be near that and scurried away. I was utterly mortified. The second bit of drama occurred when I told a girl that she would only live to be 60. Oh my God. Oh my God. That's so funny. Just predicting people's deaths in fifth grade. She'd only live to be 60. And then Princees says reading Lifeline's on Palms was one of the few things I had bothered to study. Later my teacher pulled me aside and told me I had upset the girl. Later my teacher pulled me aside and told me I had upset the girl. She told me to tell everyone that they would live a long happy life from then on. Box City was such a cool experience and I have to thank my teacher and my school for allowing us

the opportunity to get creative and do something so unique. Yeah, it's so cool. I love it. Except for the kids who weren't in the special education class. Hi, I still resent not being one of the special Smarty Pants ones. Oh, this was like the AP students got to go and have this fun time. That's what it sounds like to me. Oh, got it. I would not have been there. I would not have been there. It was thanks for all you do, ladies. Stay sexy and tell fortunes even if you don't know what you're doing Emily.

I love that, but wouldn't it been great if all the students had had a chance to be creative? No, not those ones that aren't smart enough to be creative. Yeah, the ones who haven't been getting enough attention to like grow their minds because they don't have the right start in my. Yes, are they not eating breakfast correctly or like just be sick shit? They're not sleeping because their parents are fighting all eating breakfast correctly, or like just basic shit? They're not sleeping, because their parents are fighting all night. Yeah, I'm sorry,

I'm still fucking angry about that. I get it, you know what, things are better now. Are they? Well, let's tell ourselves though. Okay, ask your sister. She'd be like, Fuck no! Survival story, earthquake in a sinkhole.

Okay, yeah, then it says, just kidding, can you imagine? You asshole. I'm just in a fight with you. Give me the name. Hill, she they wanted to stir shit up and get attention and it fucking worked. Hill, you're in serious trouble right now, but that's actually hilarious. Let's see if Hill can. I'm just kidding. Can you imagine? Why? It will get you everywhere. if Hill can- I'm in with Quake in a sinkhole. That says just kidding. Can you imagine?

Ha ha ha. Why? It'll get you everywhere. It's truly. OK, it's not as flashy, but this is a great story about how my Catholic mom kept herself from being swept up into a cult in the 90s. Yes, three to four minute read.

I feel like this is a long time listener. Like she knows how to- She knows to get in the door. Yeah. So my mom Rita became a dental hygienist I feel like this is a long time listener. Like she knows how to get in the door. So my mom Rita became a dental hygienist in the late 80s and regularly worked for dental practices that had those amazing employee incentive trips. I think tropical group trips during winter months if you hit your goals for patient retention and satisfaction.

These were very appealing since we lived in rural Indiana and my mom deserved a break considering she worked full time and had three kids. A few years into her career, early 90s at this point, my mom was working for a dentist who offered those trips. We'll call him dentist Bob. Bob was always very generous with his employees. He and his wife loved to host parties for everyone, rented out water parks for family fun days. Oh shit. And of course, there were those incentive trips. for everyone, rented out water parks for family fun days. Oh shit. And of course, there were those incentive trips. Can I get a fuck?

Can we do that? Exactly, right? Does anyone want to hang out with their fucking co-workers, though? No, I don't think so. But I would say this, doesn't this incentive thing sound a lot like box city where only the smart kids get to go? Like you have to sell and be at the upper echelon, upper percentage to get to go to any of these things. It's a very good point.

One year the staff were going to meet up in Indianapolis the day before their celebratory tropical vacay and then catch a flight to Florida together. This was the first time the arrangement had worked this way, but Indy was a three hour drive and the flight was early enough that it made sense. My mom could have booked a separate flight, but then she would have had to pay for airfare herself instead of her boss covering it. Never one to turn down a deal she opted to stay overnight with

the rest of the staff in Indianapolis. So here we are. My mom settled in at the hotel and grabbed dinner with some co-workers. At dinner she found out that there was going to be a gathering in one of the hotel conference rooms. Oh, fun! Surely they'd be talking through the itinerary, sipping, syrupy exotic drinks, and getting a sneak peek at the activities that were planned. When she got to the conference room, she initially thought she was right. There were booklets laid out, and her boss and his wife were at the front of the room, warmly greeting folks as they arrived.

The door shut, and it became clear very quickly that this meeting had nothing to do with their trip. In fact, it was actually a sales pitch for Scientology. Oh, no, you can't do that. No, no. Dentist Bob was giving it his all to convince people to sign up or purchase courses or whatever the structure was at the time. My mom, a all-caps devout Catholic, put on a face pretending to listen.

Despite looking engaged, she was actually doing long division in her head to stay present without actually absorbing information. Like even hearing it was like godless in her mind. Yes, right? She had to put up the spiritual block. Yeah. One bit of information she did pick up on, they would not be flying to put up the spiritual block. Yeah. One bit of information. She did pick up on. They would not be flying to their original destination in Florida. Dentist Bob had changed their destination to clear water. No.

It says all caps. Nope. Uh-uh. He fixed them to get there and lied about where they're going, to try to convert them to his religion. It's a religion even though people call it other things, according to the IRS, that's your boss being like, you have to come and be Catholic with me. It's so inappropriate. That's right. My mom waited until Dungeons Bob had finished his song

and dance, politely excused herself and rushed back to her room as naturally as possible. She called my dad to let him know it had transpired and then drove several hours home alone in the dead of night on icy winter roads. She got home safe and quit the practice immediately. From what she recalls, only one fellow hygienist ended up going to Florida, so someone did say okay to this. That person made it back home after the trip, slightly surprising to me, low, and ended up being a part of Scientology for 18 months or something before getting out.

Rita maybe could have done more to fuck politeness, but I'm glad she made it out with a great story and no actual bad stuff. Now, she did great. Yeah, she did. You just got a tiptoe out of there. She could have gone like, oh, I'm still gonna go to Florida because I want a trip.

And then they had her information. It could have gone like, oh, I'm still going to go to Florida because I want a trip. Yeah. And then they had like her information. It could have taken her just the 18 months after coming back to get out. Because they're dogged. They go after people. Absolutely. Yeah. She's the youngest of 10 children, so she didn't need any more trauma. Stay sexy. Floss when you can. And don't let your boss take you on a vacation to the Scientology Mother Ship, smooches Hill Sheeve. So don't you forgive Hill, little right? Entirely. That was a great email.

No. I just wanted to explain of how a Northquake could go into a single, but that's separate. It's fine. It's that'll be a different conversation. It looks like you have that actual story right in. My favorite murder of Gmail. Or anything similar. Yeah. A big boulder in a sinkhole. No great job, Hill. Thank you. Here's my last email hot dogs and unattended children.

Hello, MFM ladies. Oh, sorry, that was the subject like obviously I'm not just saying that to you. Hello, MFM ladies. Every time you two mention hot dogs, I'm reminded of one of my fondest memories as a child in the early 90s. My sister Kaley and I spent a lot of time with our neighbors, two boys name Hans and Franz. Those don't seem like real names. Those are from a sketch on SNL. But let's see how this goes. Usually we would play outside, jumping on their trampoline, and then in parentheses, it says, not the safe kind kids have today, it was placed over sharp gravel, didn't have a net. And their pet rotwiler used to try to bite our legs if we slipped through the springs, yikes. There's a fucking rot. What's like a fire pit underneath. And the floor was lava.

But today was a different day. I'm still unsure of why my parents were not around on this day, but Hans and Franz took full advantage of our freedom. They asked us to get a hot dog from the fridge, and we followed them to my parents' room. They stood on the bed, asked my sister to turn the fan onto its fastest setting, and triumphantly held the hot dog up to the speeding fan blades. Suddenly, chunks of hot dog were flying all over my parents bedroom.

The four of us cheered as we were showered in fan slice to me. Though my sister and I cleaned much of the hot dog up, my parents came home to find chunks stuck in the window blinds in their bed and on various pieces of furniture. I don't think my sister and I were punished after that stunt other than having a stern talking to, but the four of us were not allowed to play inside unattended again. Yeah, this is how the parents have to learn. Right. Thank you Karen and Georgia for your podcast and using your platform for good, you make the world a better place. Stay sexy and don't let neighbor boys talk you in the hot dog related stunts. Sarah D.

Okay, I'm up with that idea. I think that is the special education department. I've never thought of that brilliant idea. I mean, here's the first thing that comes to mind. Hans, let's say it was Hans. He's laying on the living room floor. It's a hot summer day. His mom has the fan on. He's staring up at it. And all of a sudden, he's like, you know, it'd be great to use this thing in the way it got intended cutting hot dogs. I love that everyone cheered. And I was like, oh no, this is a bad idea. Everyone was like, yes. No, it's a child. That's the funniest best thing you've ever seen. The mouse. Okay. This one is my last one. It's a bit of a tear jerker. It says, I think you miss

this winky face, meaning this is probably their second time. And it says, ghost dog story, bittersweet. Hey ladies, love the show. I know you enjoy a good ghost story and you're both dog lovers, so I think this has a bit of everything for you. This past January, my husband Gabriel and I had to make the difficult decision to put our loving miniature schnauzer, Geo geo to sleep after a rough battle with cancer. He was a real trooper right up to the end,

but we knew it was time for several reasons. For those that have had to put a pet to sleep, you'll remember the days shortly after where familiar sounds in the house make you instinctively expect your pet to come around the corner or jump on the couch. And then a deep pain when your brain catches up with reality and you remember they're gone. While Gabriel and I were definitely living through that phase, when one early morning,

both of us were asleep. Geo's sister Chloe was sleeping at the foot of the bed like always. Somewhere in my dreams, I heard a solid, thud thud. The unmistakable sound of Chloe's front paws landing on the carpet, followed by her back paws, like jumping off the bed. I opened my eyes and immediately looked to the foot of the bed, assuming it was time to get a bed to let Chloe out to the bathroom. But there she was, curled up in a ball, quietly snoring. At first I thought I had dreamt the whole thing up, but I looked over and Gabriel was also

white awake. Without missing a beat, he said, that was geo jumping off the bed. Gives me chills just typing that. We were both stirred from our sleep because we both heard the familiar sounds of furry paws hitting the carpet, and it definitely was not Chloe. Later in the day, we were reminisced on what had happened, and both of us admitted that several times we had felt the soft tug of the bedsheets at night as something made a few lazy circles before lightly flopping into place. We had both explained it away to ourselves as just a figment of our imagination, but after sharing that morning experience together,

we have no doubt it was little Geo just enjoying his favorite spot on our bed. Since then, my husband and I have experienced moments where we see Geo's shadow from the corner of our eye or think we hear Chloe come in to jump onto the couch only to realize she's already nestled into the cushions. It just goes to show that our little pets are deeply empathetic creatures that create such a strong bond with us when they are alive. And when they leave us, I think in some cases, they might just stick around for a while to enjoy our presence and us theirs. Give your little guys much love

and take care, John. Mmm. And that's sweet. Also I think the habit in routine you get into with your pets, that happens to me a lot when I leave town. And then I just don't like walking from room to room without two dogs following me everywhere or whatever. We were just like, oh, that is part of what, especially because of quarantine. It's just like part of what you do. And then like a pet dies and you're like, oh, we're not doing that anymore.

It's hard. I always expect when I'm like, when I'm away in a hotel or whatever, and I'll think to myself, I'm going to be so happy not to have cats in my bed tonight And like get to sleep without a bunch of cats and then I do and I'm like, this is lonely. Yeah, it sucks I know like I like feeling a little furry being sleeping next to me besides vents Well, that was a great batch that was it contained all of the experiences of the human experience. Yes. Did contain a lot of experiences. Hey, email us your experience at my favorite,

Briter at Gmail. Tell us, stop. Have you ever had any experiences? Any at all, really. Cat, ghost, sinkhole, earthquake, anything you want. Anything else to stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Get out of here.

Elvis, do you want a cookie? Aaaaah! 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!