My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 407
Episode Date: October 28, 2024This week’s hometowns include a murder in Chicago and creating a haunted house. Support this podcast by shopping our latest sponsor deals and promotions at this link: https://bit.ly/3UFCn1g. Learn... more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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["My Favorite Murderer"]
Hello!
And welcome.
To my favorite murder.
The mini-series.
Where we read you your stories.
You know what we're going to say.
Hey, is this our first time doing this on video?
Hometowns?
Yes, it is.
It's exciting.
I'm wearing Halloween colors because this is coming out around Halloween.
Great planning.
Look like a Halloween pirate, kind of.
Yeah, that's a cute shirt.
Thanks.
I'm wearing a color under black.
Proud of you.
Baby steps.
Also, apparently, a lot of blush on my left cheek and not as much on my right for some
reason.
That's how it goes.
This is showbiz, baby.
Hey, do you want to go first?
Let's do it.
Okay.
The subject line of this email is, hometown the classic clown killer.
And it says, hello, Karen in Georgia.
I've never been the person to have crazy stories.
So I've never wrote in, unfortunately.
And I've only listened to every mini-so.
Well, thank you so much.
But to my surprise, I found out some crazy hometown news
at my morning breakfast job.
I live close to the Chicago suburbs,
and I serve at a local cafe.
So we're in Chicago. Remember the subject line that I just read you. Okay, so the other
day, he was telling my coworker about a murder that happened in his family. He started off
by telling us that his mom's cousin used to be in landscaping and worked for a legitimate
company. His first cousin, removed, decided to do some freelance work
to have extra income, but unfortunately,
that decision cost him his life.
The cousin, a young boy, ended up working
at John Wayne Gacy's house.
Fuck.
Fuck.
And then it says, and you know how it goes.
Oh.
Sadly, he was murdered by Gacy,
and his family found out many years after his death.
Didn't even know what happened to his mom's cousin until way later in life because he
never met him.
When I heard the story, I was so gagged and the murderino in me wanted to know every detail,
but I didn't want to come off as pushy.
It's crazy to know that there is a connection between my manager and that killer who terrorized
Chicago and so many people in the 70s.
Anyways, I love you guys and I hope you pick my story so I can be stunned by listening
to the next mini-sode.
Bye.
And then there's no name.
Classic.
A lot of anonymous.
I like it.
Wow.
That's just like they just didn't have a chance against that monster.
It's just so sad.
Lylea Kaye Also, I think that's that thing.
If you're talking about Chicago in the 70s and there are probably so many families that
have similar stories, the ripple effects just keep on going.
Danielle Pletka Yeah, absolutely.
Lylea Kaye So he had so many victims and it was it went
on for so long.
Danielle Plet. Wow.
All right.
Okay, this one's called, well maybe I shouldn't tell you.
Yeah, I'm not gonna tell you the title.
Okay.
Murder Ladies.
It was my 15th birthday and my best friend had bought me tickets to see the Jesus and
Mary chain as a present.
We lived in Indianapolis and no good bands came our way, but John Cougar
Mellon Camp seems to play every damn weekend. So we had to go to Cincinnati to see the
show. Her older sister drove us. She was 18 but had never gotten her license. Their old
school trash dad lent us his van and so we packed six of us in it and drove over state
lines.
Hosts Drove over state lines and the driver doesn't have a driver's license?
That's right.
OK, great.
We got out of the concert around midnight to find ourselves in the middle of a late
spring snowstorm.
But we were young and had all the hubris that lubricated knees and a flexible spine
gave teenagers in the 90s.
So proceeded to drive home in near whiteout conditions.
I fell asleep almost immediately and only woke up
to a tremendous pressure on the side of my head.
I didn't know what was going on,
but very clearly heard the driver say,
"'Claudia, hold on, it's gonna be okay.'"
I didn't panic and I remained calm as I felt the pressure
move to my shoulder, leg, and back to my head.
Apparently, we had hit a patch of black ice on the highway
overpass and rolled the van down the embankment five times.
Oh my God.
Only the people in the front seat were wearing seatbelts. The others were thrown from the
car while I remained inside being tossed around on the way down. Incredibly, everyone survived.
The pressure I felt on my head
was me being upside down in the car. I think being relaxed helped me avoid
serious injury. At the hospital, I thanked my friend's older sister, the
driver, for reassuring me. She looked at me the way only an 18-year-old girl can
look at her little sister's dumb friend and said in the most withering voice,
I didn't say that. Why would I talk to you? Oh, yeah, my boyfriend is in the front seat and my sister is in the back,
but I tell you to be calm? Right.
Excuse me, driver, go fuck yourself.
Right.
For real. What the fuck? You did this, asshole.
Yeah, this is on you. I died of embarrassment a little and never brought it up again, but
as I've aged, I've stopped thinking about that with a cringe of humiliation, but instead with curiosity. That voice was
so clear and kept me completely calm as my body was violently being tumbled in a giant
metal can. I've never heard a plausible explanation for this until now. Thank you for doing a
show about the third man. Now I can go back to just feeling stupid for thinking that any 18 year old anywhere would ever put my well-being above theirs. And it was
called, holy shit, I had third man. Stay sexy and get a licensed driver to take
you to a concert in another state, Claudia.
Claudia, so glad you survived. Never talked to that person again.
No.
Good, although it might have been your rendition. She could have said it nicer. But still.
No.
But still, no, I guess that's not true because the words were ridiculous.
Harsh.
Totally.
What a dick.
What a dick.
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How dare you attack me with autumnal puns.
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Goodbye.
Here's my next one.
The subject line of this email is,
Realtor murderino here, answer about crime disclosure from today's Minnesota. Hi,
Karen and Georgia. I just heard you ask for Realtor Murderinos on today's Minnesota. I'm
actually a broker in Tennessee and can answer for myself. What y'all are talking about is
stigmatized properties in Realtor speak. It's actually a pretty hot topic. I am so excited.
I can't wait. This is the best.
Let's talk about Mech Labs.
Okay. I once showed a house with bullet holes in the walls and my clients running out the front door.
The neighbor hollered across the fence, somebody got killed in that house as soon as we stepped outside.
It turns out multiple people were killed in a shootout and the house had been emptied and put up for sale.
Years later, I showed it post-redevation and told my clients about the last time I showed
it.
Then the seller wandered in and told us all about the deaths that had happened there and
how the house was haunted.
We were mostly trying to get away from the seller and my clients had no more interest
in the house after that. Death and crimes actually happen quite often, quote unquote, at home.
And over decades, they really add up.
Logistically, how far back should people disclose and what should they disclose?
A common ethics test question is about how you don't have to disclose.
As an agent, it's hard because people often want to be rid of haunted houses or
the site where a family tragedy occurred.
Their agent's job is to represent their best interests and help them sell the house at
the best possible terms.
I wouldn't want to deceive buyers and also don't want to hurt my sellers.
I advise my clients to first disclose what the state requires and then be honest about
things that neighbors would
tell the new buyers anyway.
That's great.
We want to be the source and not break trust with potential buyers.
Thank you for all you do.
I've been listening since my stepmom told me about y'all in 2019 and what a gift y'all
are.
And that's from Kate in Nashville.
Wow.
Yeah.
I can't decide if like, I just wouldn't want to know if I loved the house,
but then I'd be pissed off if I found out from neighbors
that I wasn't told.
You know what I mean?
Like you can't have both.
No one wants to be the last to know.
That's the rule in all of life.
I feel tricked somehow.
Yeah, so if you're somebody that's like integral
to that thing, like being the buyer,
then you have to tell people as much as you can.
And I feel like if you're buying a house, you have to think about selling it in the
future and is this going to cause a decrease in, you know, its worth because of that.
So like, do you really want to live with that?
Yeah.
And then also how back, it's just like the drama of it, how far back it goes.
Yeah.
I don't know.
Yeah, for sure. Okay. What we're saying is it's up to you it goes, I don't know. For sure.
Okay.
What we're saying is it's up to you.
Yeah, it's up to you.
Classic Hometown with family ties and a throwback to episode 268.
Howdy!
Lots of pleasantries and love to Georgia, Karen, and the MFM crew.
I've been a listener since 2018.
Thank you to the waiter who recommended you.
And have always wanted a reason to write about my crazy liberal Appalachian family.
Well, I found the reason when I listened to episode 268, All Stars of Seventh Grade, back
in April of 2021, aka the Cocaine Bear episode.
Classic.
I've been sitting on it for three years because of this little thing called analysis paralysis."
I couldn't help but chuckle when Karen said, no one in Cali wants that Kentucky weed.
And Georgia replied with, no thanks, keep it for your stud horses, we're good over here.
I don't even really know what a stud horse is, so I don't hear myself saying that.
That's all a lie.
She's thinking of a different podcast.
Yeah, for sure.
Actually, and that sounds like something I would say that, and then you would say.
So I think she's got her voices confused.
Could be that.
Yeah.
But also, I wouldn't say stud horses.
I don't know.
You grew up next to like a horse farm area.
But not horse breeders.
Yeah.
That's like a weird different thing.
Okay.
I thought to myself, if they only knew.
Well, you know what's funny?
We're talking about this like there's not an immediate way to prove it by listening
to the other side.
We know we're wrong as we're saying it.
We both know that.
Clearly.
It's an exercise in wrongness on this podcast.
My grandfather was one of the founding members of the Cornbread Mafia.
What?
A quick history of the Cornbread Mafia.
This was a group of Kentucky men who ran the largest domestic
marijuana production operation in U.S. history. Between 1985 and 1989, 70 Kentuckians were accused
of growing 180 tons of marijuana on 29 farms in 10 states. So I guess someone wanted that shitty
Kentucky weed. Yeah, we were wrong. We were wrong. Several books have been written by past members.
Plenty fled the US when the arrests began in 1989
and never came back.
My grandfather did not flee and served plenty of prison time
on and off.
The family even claims the youngest sibling
was conceived at a conjugal visit.
Oh.
That's kind of cool.
My mom married into this family when I was a young teen, so learning about this storied
history fascinated me.
I had several friends in high school whose parents wouldn't let them come to my house,
even though my stepdad never had a hand in that family business.
And the cornbread mafia is still blamed for deaths and crimes in the area to this day.
Wow.
Some of my favorite comical stories of that time include my grandpa stealing a tractor
trailer full of John Deere writing mowers and passing them out to neighbors so everyone
had a brand new mower.
Not suspicious at all.
And my stepdad unbearing five gallon buckets of money in the backyard when his dad was
in prison, only to find that the lid had not been completely popped on.
So all the money inside
was soaked. So he, his mom, and siblings had to lay tens of thousands of dollars all around
the house so it could dry out.
Oh, shit. Well, Lisa, I thought you were going to say it molded or something.
No.
Thank God.
I wonder how many more buckets are still buried out there that they just forgot about.
Dig, dig, dig.
Thanks for reading My Hometown.
I hope you enjoyed it.
And most importantly, stay sexy
and smoke some shitty Kentucky weed.
XOXO, Haley from Alaska.
You can use my name.
Haley, that was a great one.
Just the phrase cornbread mafia is my favorite.
Yeah, I never even heard of that.
At all.
I mean, look, we got a good education.
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Goodbye.
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and you can get anything you need delivered with Uber Eats.
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So no, you can't get a nice rank on Uber Eats.
But iced tea, ice cream, or just plain old ice?
Yes, we deliver those.
Goaltenders, no.
But chicken tenders, yes.
Because those are groceries, and we deliver those too.
Along with your favorite restaurant food, alcohol, and other everyday essentials.
Order Uber Eats now.
For alcohol, you must be legal drinking age.
Please enjoy responsibly.
Product availability varies by region.
See app for details.
Here's my last one.
And the subject line is vintage murderino scrapbook found.
Ooh.
Ladies, while this is not your typical treasure find,
it's pretty freaking cool.
I work cataloging and photographing
at an auction estate clean-out business.
Ah, dream.
Right?
While inputting the next auction,
I came across a scrapbook loaded with newspaper clippings
from the 40s.
Every last clipping involved kidnapping, disappeared, accidents, homicides, and death.
I was in my glory, not actually cataloging or photographing, but skimming through all
the articles that a long-ago murderino thought were worth saving.
Thought you'd enjoy knowing you didn't invent it,
you just perfected it.
Stay sexy, N.
God bless.
Like why did they want that?
They wanted to just be able to look through it
and that's wild.
I mean, yeah.
It's like, oh, this scared me.
Put it in a book.
Oh, I don't like that at all. Put it in a book. Or they liked it.
Yeah.
Could have liked it.
Yeah. That's a good one. Okay, I have a Halloween one. Family built Halloween haunted house. Hey, Karen and Georgia. I'll be using Georgia font to tell you, and I'm using Georgia font on mine, of course, to tell you about my dad's obsession with creating Halloween haunted houses.
Legend tells the first one was in an abandoned church.
I was a baby at the time, so I wasn't able to tell them that this was a bad idea.
The second haunted house was built in the basement of our house.
It was a new build, so dad made sure we had an extra large basement.
We were able to fit a dark maze, four scenes,
and sprinkle in a few jump scares.
You would start by going through the dark maze,
being tickled by fishing line hanging from the ceiling.
I know, it's a good idea, right?
Very good.
The first scene was an infested ice cream shop
with a deranged ice cream man.
That's clever.
We created a display case and put bugs all over the ice cream.
The second scene was an optical illusion room.
Hundreds of highlighter dots were placed on black walls and I put on a black full body
suit also covered with highlighter dots.
So when you walk in, it looks like I'm not in the room until I move.
The third scene was a quick recreation of the opening to Scream when
Drew Barrymore was murdered by a ghost face. We included the iconic mask, white
sweater, and blonde bob. The fourth scene was a classic raving mad surgeon. We
turned our pool table into a surgery table and had an actor getting their
legs sawn off. All of the actors and guides were teens from the neighborhood.
Fun, right? Fun.
I will always remember my older sister wearing a headset while waving people down the stairs.
My older brother cutting off someone's leg.
My other older sister getting stabbed by goat's face.
The haunted house was very popular.
We had a line going out the front door every year.
After walking through it, the kids would go trick-or-treating while the parents partied
at our house. Essentially, the entire neighborhood was crammed into my house every Halloween
until my mom got tired of it. Dad moved the haunted house to a large storage unit where
we kept it going for a few more years. It was an amazing experience when it all came
together.
Sounds incredible.
I know. Like the work that it took every year. But also like that like providing this kind of community central work.
We'll do it for you. It's so generous.
Yeah.
It's so great.
Yeah.
Now that I'm older, I've started to think more about building the haunted house rather than being in it.
My dad, older brother and I spent a few months building it.
I learned how to build plywood walls, make scenes, do design and act.
Now that I'm older, I appreciate the skills my dad taught me and the strength of our community.
I love you, dad.
Karen in Georgia, you're great.
Yada, yada, yada.
Thanks for the podcast."
And it's like Michael and Simon the cat.
Oh.
Oh, I know.
Michael, you're so lucky.
Yeah, what a memory to have.
The idea that the older sister, because also it's like headpiece, but did she also have
a clipboard?
Because I'm seeing a clipboard.
Absolutely.
I bet she was so bossy.
And I bet she had really big hair.
Oh my God, the biggest.
Right?
Yeah.
She's like all of your siblings are doing the thing that suits their personality the best.
Right. They get to explore like different ways in which they could shine.
And then Michael was the one who's like I want to be the creep in a dark room that suddenly
like you realize someone's in there with you.
Right. That's such a middle child behavior.
Yeah. But at least he's no mad surgeon.
That's true. Write us your stories and thank you for writing them if you already have and write them again.
And write, write, write.
Just write for yourself.
Don't forget to journal.
That's exactly right.
And nice one.
And stay sexy.
And don't get murdered.
Goodbye.
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 Liana Squillacci.
Email your hometowns to MyFavoriteMurder at gmail.com.
And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at My Favorite Murder and on Twitter at My
Fave Murder.
Goodbye!