This is exactly right. Hello, hello and welcome to my favorite murder, the many Soad are you ready, are you ready? Let's get started. OK, let's just do it. Let's OK. Got it. Oh, cut to the left of the clap. You wanna go first? Sure. This starts.

Hello, Coran Queen's adorable pets and Stephen Inferences your adorable two. Back when I was in college, I was home one night and I turned on the news to see a story of a young college female who fought off an intruder with a sword as he assaulted her. I normally don't watch the local news and I remember thinking, Wow, you go girl. And thinking that she was a total badass who amidst fear, decided to fight back the next day.

I went in nice and early to begin my shift as a host at a popular chain restaurant. My friend who hosted alongside me came in a bit late and frazzled. I'm so tired. I complained to her as I began to recount my previous day. I'm tired too, she exhaled. Someone broke into my house last night. I ended up beating them up and chasing them off with my dad's sword.

Oh my God. My mouth fell open. That was you. I saw your story on the news. So she began her harrowing story in the middle of the night. She had woken up to pressure on her chest and the smell of cigarette smoke. Move and I'll stab you, a voice said in the darkness.

She can make out the shape of a man holding her down with one hand and holding a syringe in his other. He instructed her to remove her clothes. As he removed his shirt and lowered his pants, he began to assault her and as she laid there, a million thoughts began to run through her mind. Is this really happening? Do I die like this? But what reverberated through her head and stood out to her were two simple words. Fuck no.

She looked up and saw her father's sword hanging on the wall above her bed. Her father, a trained martial artist, had given her one of his swords a year prior, and she had hung it up as decoration in her room. In one quick decision, she kicked her attacker, jumped up, grabbed the sword and began to beat him with it. He reached out to grab the blade and she drew the sword down, slicing open his hand.

As he gripped it, he began to back out of a room as she continued to hit him in the scuffle, she was stabbed by his needle on her hand. She was able to beat him out of her house and down the street.

She naked and he, with his pants down at his ankles and bleeding from his hand before running back into her house to call nine one one.

Right.

Within a few hours, the police were able to find the man and made an arrest. Apparently, he had been stalking her home for a few days, looking into her windows and waited for when he seemed to know her roommates would be out of town. He had snuck into her house earlier that day when no one was at home, went into their attic and waited for her to come home and fall asleep. What a creep.

I couldn't hit. Yeah, I couldn't believe that he or she was telling me the story about why she was tired and what an amazing, strong, courageous person she was.

This five foot five college student and her dad's sword telling this guy to fuck it in fight or flight. She thought she did end up being tested for all the things from being pricked in her hand negative to this day. She still gets minor PTSD from smelling cigarette smoke. And but she's a bad ass and made a beautiful life for herself. He went to jail, and I'll never forget her courage in the face of one of the scariest things a woman can face.

Stay sexy, hang your swords and always check your attic.

S.J Oh my God. I'm like, I have chills. Unbelievable. What a badass. I love it so much. It's so good.

So swords, swords, also everything about like that attack is scary enough.

But the idea that someone's holding a syringe. Yeah.

And you don't know what's in it. I can't be good. No. Can Vitamin B that's no reason. And you're not Liza Minnelli. That's crazy.

Mimi. OK, go away. This is the 1918 Spanish flu story. Hello friends. This crazy pandemic has reminded me of a story that is at once totally integral to my family history. And at the same time, it's rarely brought up in conversation because it is rarely discussed. I'm sure that I will get a few of the details wrong, so please forgive me for that. We do forgiven. In 1918, the Spanish flu hit hard. At least 17 million people died worldwide.

It was, of course, crazy and awful. Naturally, our current crappy situation made me think about how a lot of things change, but some things don't. Anyway, in 1918, my grandfather was an infant and his parents brought him to Mobile, Alabama, to visit friends and introduce them to the baby while they were visiting. Tragedy struck and the people they were visiting names unknown and my great grandparents names also unknown. All died very suddenly from this awful flu.

Oh, my gosh. Before they died, they gave the baby.

Be my grandfather to a neighbor to try to keep him safe. He did stay safe and he did not get sick. Here's where it gets wild. The neighbor who took my grandfather and didn't know his name, his parents names or where they were from or even the neighbors, which is pretty damn weird for Alabama. We usually all know each other. Since it was 1918, there were no social services, there was no way to locate any family, etc.

. So my adopted great grandma, Mrs. Sheffield, did what any amazing lady would do. She kept the kid.

She named him Joseph Sheffield and raised him as her own along with her other kids. My grandfather had no idea about any of this until he was 16 and needed his birth certificate, at which point my great grandmother had to fess up and tell him the whole story.

Wow. It's crazy to think about the twists and turns of fate. If his parents hadn't come to visit their friends, if they hadn't had the foresight to give him to the neighbor, my life would be totally different or more likely, I wouldn't exist at all. My grandfather stayed in Mobile, Alabama, married and raised three sons and a daughter. I am the daughter of his youngest son. To this day, we have no idea where my grandfather was from or what his birth name was.

My last name is Sheffield, as it should be, but whatever my grandfather's birth name first and last was, it's lost to history. Thanks for everything you do. This podcast has changed my life in more ways than you will ever know. If you choose to read this, please use my name in honor of my great grandmother, a bad ass lady who is almost definitely the reason I'm here today. XO, XO, Sarah Sheffield.

Oh nice touching. Yeah. Guy gone fucking twenty three and me and find those relatives.

But what a. Like what a crazy situation where it's like we all have this terrible flu, can you take the baby next door neighbor?

Yeah, not next of kin or family or anything.

It's just like whoever's closest. That's how bad it was. Probably it was probably this like split second. I can tell I'm getting sick, like thinking it's going to be temporary. Just take the baby while we're sick.

Yeah. And then it wasn't temporary. No, it was not.

No. OK. All right. This one has no subject line. It just starts, obviously. Love you guys. Thank you for helping me accept and begin to tackle my anxiety. That's all. There's no there's no hello. Just straight into like, look, we know this is a given and also this love, OK?

So my dad has the worst and most hilarious look ranging from that time he went to get a bat out of my bedroom and ended up accidentally letting another bat into the room.

Oh, my God, a bat. I thought you might like a baseball bat.

Oh, and then in parentheses, it says, I grew up in the countryside in England. God, that's fucking like get the bat out now. Here comes the second.

So your dad is a vampire.

So your dad is a delicious mango that bats love to eat.

I don't know what's good about it. OK, so basically she said from that time about the bats to when the bomb squad was called because he was parked suspiciously in a car park. But the most amazing thing that ever happened to him was when he was arrested for carjacking spoilers.

He didn't do it. Thank you. Spoilers, plural. He didn't do it. Let's get into it.

So my dad used to run a weed control business, which I had to read three times on weed control.

That's where we are. The car business.

He's in the DEA now. He's McGruff the Crime Dog.

OK, it's like I British, OK. He ran a weed control business and he was sat in his van with the dog on his lunch break when a police car pulled up. An officer gets out and tells my dad that there's been an attempted carjacking in the next village over. And would my dad mind coming over for a lineup? When my dad gets to the lineup, he looks to his left and right and suddenly has an odd moment. He was the only person in the drive by lineup.

The car owner drove by and said, yes, my dad was the guy that tried to steal their car. The next six hours of my dad's life became a bit insane. He was bundled into the back of a police car. Our sweet dog was put into the police kennels and my dad was processed and put into holding. And finally they got around to interviewing him. The interaction went something like this. Sir, you match the description of a carjacking and have been identified as the suspects.

The description is of an unshaven man, approximately five foot nine in his mid to late 30s, to which my dad replied, well, I'm six foot two in my mid 40s, but I'll give you one out of three.

Yeah, that's my dad.

Right after a bit more back and forth, the police officer begins to get annoyed and sternly says, Sir, I need you to understand how much trouble you are in this suspect. Stop the car with both hands. And we have a full set of ten fingerprints at this point. My dad begins to laugh uncontrollably. What like this, my dad says is he holds up his hands. My dad only has nine fingers. Oh, my God. He lost one years back in a work related accident.

The interview ended pretty swiftly after that, and my dad was released with no charges.

Oh, my God.

My dad is absolutely one of my best friends, has always used his loss of a digit to his advantage, mostly for good humor, often quickly removing his hand from closing freezer doors, the supermarket to look at the person next to him and shout, What have you done, Dad jokes, dad jokes, what have you done as he brandishes his four fingered hand?

But this is the only time his lack of a finger has proven his innocence. Thank you for bringing light into my long commute. Stay sexy and remember, sometimes nine fingers is all you need.

No name. That was great. Yeah, I love it. So good that story.

And also just thank God that it turned out that way because how many stories do we know of. There's no laughs. There's no missing finger simplicity. There's no dog. And then that person spends 40 years in jail.

There's no dog dog and saddest of all. And the saddest part, there's no dog. OK, this is like those dogs.

Oh, hello, friends. Georgie, look up with your comb. George Oh, George is poor.

She's so mad. Yeah, she's fine. OK, this is called Lock Your gone to have Windows High a while ago, maybe a year. Who the fuck knows what the self isolation for is. I know you guys wrote a story where someone broke into a house through a second story window and it reminded me of a story I've been sitting on for years. One night, after a few glasses of wine, my mom casually told me about this incident from when she was a teenager in the seventies when she was living with her mom in Oklahoma.

My mom's room was on the second floor and had a window at the same level as her neighbours so you could look across and see into each other's rooms. You get the idea? I do. One day she was doing homework at her desk, which is against the opposite wall from the window. When the phone rang, it was her sweet old lady neighbor on the other end who told my mom, Katie, dear, try to stay calm.

But there's a man on a ladder watching you through your window to try to stay calm.

Katie. Dear Katie, dear, I know this might be the first time you've dealt with this, not mine.

Anyway, now don't stand up screaming. My mom somehow managed to keep from losing her shit and calmly got up without looking behind her and walked down the hall to my grandma's room to inform her of the situation. My grandma quickly called the police, but that creepy mother fucker booked it before the cops got there when they had to go check out the ladder he left behind. In his haste, they also found all caps, a fucking butcher knife next to it.

Oh, that's fucking that's not funny anymore. Now, that's how the show always goes.

Yep. Light laughs Oh, can you believe this?

And then boom. That's right. And I never see it coming. No, sadly, they never caught this guy, but he didn't come back after that day as if this weren't already creepy enough. After the whole debacle was over, my grandmother informed my mom that she had found other items beneath her window over the past few weeks, such as Polaroid, pictures of her and flowers, but was told by the police that nothing could be done without a threat being made.

I am sorry, a ladder up to a teenage girls window is a threat.

Yeah, well, the night's a threat. I keep being a peeping Tom, being step one in usually a sexual assault situation. Yeah, that would be a threat. But this is what year this is probably in the 70s in Oklahoma.

Oh, right. OK, yeah. So that was back when peeping toms are hilarious, right. They're like that's normal. Everyone does it. Oh boys will be boys. Yeah. They're boutcher nice. Exactly.

Of course I had a million other questions. Like what other treasures the dude left behind. But my mom was my my mom has refused to talk about the whole thing since at least now I understand why she's always so paranoid about locking the doors and windows and closing all the blinds at night. You think you're safe on the second at least I stay on the second floor, but ladders exist. We got to get rid of ladders. Guys that span all ladders.

Sign our petition.

Thank you for being awesome humans and supporting the mental health field by normalizing seeing therapists. I even associate marriage and family therapist. Actualizing and trauma with the goal to one day have my own practice working with first responders, because as we all know, this population sees some messed up shit and needs it deserves so much support. Stay sexy and lock all your windows.

Yeah. Wow. I mean, who needs fresh air? Lock your windows.

But then also don't be afraid to put that shade down. Yeah, that's really the cause. I mean, like, yes, the windows should kind of remain locked. Right. I guess we shouldn't pull it apart. Advice we give it. In 2012, a 72 year old man named Samuel Little was charged with three Los Angeles murders dating back to the 1980s.

So we finally got to where we were going. The crowd at Liverpool roar after only one appeal.

But since then, it's become clear he is the most prolific serial killer in the United States has ever seen, 93 victims, 19 states. Samuel Little has become infamous, but his victims, some of whom remain unidentified, are stuck in the shadows. It's time for that to change.

My experience in working with some of the victims families is that he was dead wrong. They were missed. They were very loved and their families were hurting.

The fall line presents a special limited series. The victims of Samuel Little will cover both solved and unsolved Southeastern cases and tell you how you can help the victims. Still waiting for justice, featuring rare interrogation tape, FBI interviews and in depth detail. This is a series you won't want to miss. Episodes begin on September 16th from Exactly Right Network. Find us on Stitcher Apple podcast or wherever you listen. The subject line of this e-mail is a self-defense used for the canned food we've been hoarding, dear.

Exactly right. Employee or intern who screams hometowns?

Oh, that's Lily Lily that's dear Lily. I took Karen and George's advice and use my quarantine induced free time, quarantine induced Kornet teen induced free time to ask my parents for their hometowns. And boy, did my mom and dad deliver. That's so smart.

Yeah. Ask your parents for theirs if you don't have one of your own.

OK, love it.

While they had some real gems, this story was the most lighthearted and perfect for a pandemic.

My mom's cousin, Cheryl, I have a cousin, Cheryl. My mom's cousin Cheryl worked at a rural Idaho convenience store in the 70s. She was manning the cash register alone one night when a guy came in and started skulking around the store.

Skulking is so threatening. Yeah, it's like it's like shifty eyes and your shoulders are up a little bit. Yeah.

You're kind of greasy.

There's a grease element. He eventually approached her and asked her for a can of peaches that was behind the counter. And then in parentheses, I guess they kept the canned fruit by the cigarettes in those days.

That is super, hilariously weird. She turned to get the peaches. And when she turned back around, this perv had his penis displayed on the counter.

Just something about laying a penis on the surface is so gross.

Well, that's gets you in both ways because you don't want to see the penis and you don't like the germs that will eventually be on that penis for a little convenience store counter.

It's also almost at a jewelry store like like showing the. I hate it. I have to pull out your jeweler's loop and look really closely at the penis.

I don't want to. And then you're like, that's not a diamond. Wait a second. I was promised a diamond with near super human reaction speed.

She slammed the can down on his junk. There was right there was some disagreement between my parents about the size of the can.

But as Mormons love our bulk food storage, so I like to imagine a giant seven pound us Mormons love our bulk food so that we learned so much such a good little tidbit, tidbits and factoids.

OK, he passed out giving Sheryl time to call for help. Yeah, I love that he passed out.

That's how bad that was for him. Hell yeah. Don't put it up there if you can't handle big can on it.

The first responders arrived. She was giving her statement to the cops while the paramedics loaded creepy bastard on to a gurney. When she got to the part about the peaches, the EMT started laughing so hard that they dropped the gurney and broke creepy bastard's arm.

Oh, no. Oh, my God.

That's hilarious. I know you all love a story where the perp gets his just desserts. So I hope this story brightens your day during what's otherwise a dark, weird time.

It did great, really, to stay sexy and hoard canned fruit instead of toilet paper.

Rushville, I love the idea of this Mormon girl who's like probably hasn't seen a penis before and just knew to react like that immediately instead of being horrified. Yeah, I love it. Smash it. Well, and also it's like, you know, if he was a smoker, the vibes were bad, right. You know, she knew something was about to happen. And so like it was just like whether it was he had placed a knife on the counter or a note that said, give me all your money or his own penis.

She was going to smash it with a can. That was her reaction, thank God. Oh, thank God. It was number three. Rachelle, that was amazing. Thank you so much. I love it. Love Garena Smash story. Any Mormon stories? Come on. Yeah, we laugh. We love and we learn.

That's right. This is not a murder story, but a meet. Cute since you asked for them. It's. That's right. We did. Shortly before the pandemic took over all the things I had a dream about, someone I hadn't talked to in probably five or more years. He and I had a brief fling back in the day, but neither of us were in a place emotionally. Let it be anything more than that. After this dream, I felt an extreme nagging sensation that I needed to reach out to him and see what was up and how he'd been.

It took me almost a week to mull it over and decide to send a message, but I did, he answered immediately, and we began catching up two weeks later where Facebook official and honestly, I'm still in shock.

And he was my brother's high school best friend.

Hey, girl and the hand a friend of the family. And I can't help but feel like my mom, who passed away three years ago, heard my heart ache over numerous unhealthy relationships and nudged me in this direction. Parenting sucks, but we're making it. And honestly, I think I might be losing my mind if we hadn't met at the time. We did. Stay sexy and follow your dreams. Questionmark.

Oh, I love that. Make you quarantine? I have gotten texts from people that I don't normally talk to that I think we would normally feel weird texting each other because it'd be like I'm not trying to I'm not trying to get a hold of you. I think that might be an L.A. thing of like I'm not asking you for anything. I'm just saying hi are like I don't have time for lunch or coffee.

I just want to check and see how you are. But that's weird. On a normal day, it's weird on a normal day and now it's like the greatest hits.

Oh my God. Thank you. Hi, how are you? You know, it's like the loveliest kind of thinking of you making sure you're you're doing OK. Wherever you are. It's all. Do you want to do the horrible. We should get a drink soon. Nope. Right.

No, no. Because no one's getting a drink except for by themselves in their kitchen. That's right.

Or send us your stories and your quarantine. Make cutes your quarantine breakup's. Yeah.

How about a horrible quarantine break, a Facebook official breakup. That's the idea that she said we're now Facebook official. Is it true modern stamp of this isn't just in my mind total love. I love that I work Facebook official. We've gone public. It's so cute.

Very sweet. Yeah. Keep sending these awesome stories and and stay safe and stay home and stay strong and stay sexy and don't get murdered by my Elvis.

You want a cookie and.