MFM Minisode 219My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark
- 995 views
- 22 Mar 2021
This week’s hometowns include a home intruder and an animal rescue story.
See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
This is exactly right. The story had everything except sex. I'm Kate Winkler Dawson, the host of Tenfold More Wicked on exactly right. Season three is a wild Texas story about a prominent family ripped apart and a killer that might have gotten away with murder.
It's a story about family secrets. Know my grandfather was the town angel and the home devil.
It's about a killer with a grudge and some serious problems that were never treated.
He had these resentments, but I also think he had voices telling him that he should do something about them.
Season three of Tenfold More Wicked premieres on Monday, March 29th on exactly right. Subscribe now on Stitcher, Apple podcasts or wherever you like to listen.
Hello and welcome to my favorite murder, the Minnesota man, that's Karen Kilgore. Oh, that's Georgia Howard Stern. We're about to read you your emails that you sent us. I'm repping MFM by wearing our own merch. George is at home wearing merch, being a fan of herself, practicing itself, care and positivity. I yesterday I went for a walk and had the stay sexy. No, no, I insist. DGM shirt and our fanny pack this terrible keep going.
And then Vinces.
We watch Russell's hat on and I was just like at the concert with the T and the band T looks pretty sweet and holding a big picket sign that says, please ask me about my several podcasts.
I beg you a little embarrassed. You're just trying to get back in the mic.
I was just trying to get people to listen. You know, I just like we I think, you know, you're right. I shouldn't tease you. I should be thanking you for being our street team.
I'm like cardboard sign girl. Do you want to go first this week?
Absolutely. It'll be fun. All right. This one's been in the news. It's important. This says, Hi, Karen and Georgia. Love your show. And I've been listening for years. You guys have helped me through long days, working from home during lockdown and fed my true crime obsession in the best way I wanted to write because of a news story that's been huge here in the UK, but I don't know if it's made its way to the US.
On March 3rd, a thirty three year old woman named Sarah Evrard was walking home from a friend's house just after 9:00 p.m. She was last seen wearing brightly colored clothes and walking on a main road in south London. And then she disappeared. It was unclear what happened to her and there was a desperate search for her until today. Her remains were found in Kent outside London, and a police officer has been arrested on suspicion of her kidnap and murder. It sparked a big controversy about women feeling unsafe in our own streets.
I live in South London with my roommate just a couple of streets away from where this happened. It's a really popular part of town for young professionals to live, sort of the equivalent of the East Village, Murray Hill area in New York.
It's really affected us and so many others. We don't feel safe going on runs by yourself or even walking for five minutes to the grocery store alone if it's dark. In the aftermath of Sara's disappearance, police advised women not to walk alone at night. And it just feels like yet again, the blame is being placed on women for the actions of violent men.
All we can think is that you can do everything right, as Sarah did, wear bright clothes. Tell your friends where you're going. Keeps a busy streets when you walk home and still be the victim of terrible crimes like this. I just wanted to let you know about this. In case you hadn't heard, there's still a lot of mystery as to exactly why and how this happened. But for now, the whole of UK and London in particular are just reeling from this tragic news and thinking of her family.
SDM Kirsten. Yeah, Kirsten, we have heard about this case here. Lots of people have been talking about it, especially people that listen to this podcast and sharing articles about it. And I've seen a bunch of like I assume they're BBC news clips, people being interviewed. Yeah, it's horrible. It's horrible and compounded by the fact that if she was if she was murdered by a policeman, then it's that idea that you think it's someone that you can trust and that you're safe with her.
Yeah, it's that it's that thing of like you're giving the women a curfew as if we're at fault again and time and time again that happens. And the men aren't punished or inconvenienced at all for what is, you know, their actions or just that it's the first thought.
The first thought is that's your own responsibility. I would also like to point out, though, and I bet you lots of women have realized this, too, that this kind of thing of having to that idea of going out, thinking you're safe and the police become a threat. Yeah. Is something that women of color deal with every single day. That people of men of actually men of color percentage wise the most, but women of color for sure.
So along with the anger and the fear, I hope there's also empathy and a realization that you're actually just coming into a scenario that some people have lived in all their lives.
Yes. Yes. A hundred percent. Yeah. But I do I do think a lot of people are talking about it. I, I hope that they the women in London know that. Yeah. That lots of people here are talking about it for sure. Definitely. OK, well, I'm just going to I'm going to switch it up with this email because it's just a it's an email of terrible job stories.
Oh, I got one to watch. So. Oh, really. OK, I don't even remember us talking about that. It was asking for it was because of the photo. The photo shop. Yes, OK.
Being a photo like an old school photo developer, yes, and the pictures you'd find, OK, it's all a blur. OK, so this says hello all you requested, unknown, terrible job stories. And I have some really good gems from one from when I worked as a lifeguard.
Oh, that's yes. My shoe. And I was like, oh, I didn't even think about how fucked up that was. Yes, great. Let's do it.
I started gardening at age 15 as a lifeguard because you should always put teenagers in charge of people's lives like so.
Yeah, my first rescue was of a teenager who scalped himself on the diving board. This happens more often than you want to know.
He refused all care and would not let me touch him even though he was bleeding profusely. Of course, because you had the most from your head, right?
Turns out he was in witness protection as a teenager, in witness protection and being a city pool, being that it was a city pool.
All the rescue reports become public record for a few days later to official looking people showed up at all.
The staff who had worked that incident had to sign documents saying we would never speak of that didn't.
Well, great that that's being honest.
Your you signed some documents and you have believe it was. Do you think there's a like a 20 year lapse on that? Absolutely. All right. There was an ice cream sales guy who stood outside after open swim who got surrounded by DEA agents one day. Turns out, in addition to a popsicle, you could also purchase large quantities of meth. Oops. We also had an old man who carried around a bag of kids goggles to share with anyone who didn't have them.
It turns out he was allowing kids to borrow them as long as they went under the water to look at his exposed genitals for this teenager, for a teenager to deal with.
Yes, sir. Sir, I need you to get out of the water so you can be arrested. This went on for years before it was discovered. CEGEP My final story is that we had a window in our control nest, which is where the guards go when we're not on the stand. That looked into the sauna to make sure people weren't having sex in there or overheating or Bourbeau. We we often had a creepy man that would just stare in.
So he's in the sauna staring into my big surprise that one day he was caught masturbating while staring into that window. Stay sexy and always remember that yellow and white swimsuits go see through when wet Britney.
Excellent, excellent job.
Exactly what we were looking for when we forgot what we said we were looking for perfectly executed it and the men. Oh my God, there's so many layers to that.
But the most one is why our 15 year olds.
Even at a pool, even mostly at a pool, where it's like it's it truly is children's lives. Yeah, yeah. It's like I guess they care the most, are they? This is right when they still care about things or. Yeah. It's also like I don't know. Can't someone a hundred pounds or over what. How are you going to save their lives I guess. Technique. I don't know. I think that you get a big hook.
I think these matters we can I just tell you really quick, because I think my sister deserves credit for this. You know, my sister, she has been a grammar school teacher for thirty plus years and they had a end of the year swim party one time. And she was standing there, of course, because she is not a No. One in our family is a swim in a bathing suit in front of people. I think none of the teachers really, they were all just like go swimming.
Yeah. I don't want to be in there with you. Sure. And as she's standing fully dressed in the side of the pool talking to somebody else, she looks over and she can see a kid at the bottom of the pool, dives directly in, fully clothed and pulls him, pulls him out of the bottom of the pool hero credit to my sister. And if it was just, you know, one of the many things she had to do that day.
Selfless. All right. This one's called my mom. Spooky home intruder story. Hey, y'all. I don't think either of you asked for spooky home intruder stories, but I have one. And now you do, too.
So this is a true story from my mother's childhood that I've known her tell me over and over since I was a kid. It's just creepy enough to give me pretty bad nightmares back then. And at one point my mother had to convince me she'd made the whole thing up. I checked with her recently. It definitely happened. Enjoy holding it like I was kidding.
I was kidding. There is it was a lie. I was trying to scare you. I'm taking us back to Waco, Texas. In the 60s. My mom, her two brothers and a neighborhood kid are all playing outside completely unsupervised because the 60s, it's starting to get pretty hot outside. And the neighborhood kids, just everybody come over to his house for a glass of water. His parents are out running an errand, but the doors are unlocked again, the sixties.
So that's not a problem. All four kids head over to the house, walk into the kitchen and immediately noticed something odd. On the floor are two or three plates smashed to pieces. As the kids look around, they notice. That's not the only weird thing about the kitchen. Cabinets are ajar. Jurors have been left open. Various glasses and silverware have been moved. The place is a mess. And because children know no fear, they decided to split up and look through the house for anything else that looks out of place.
They like her, Nancy.
Drew, you go to the attic. It's all right. No, I know.
They check every room, open every door, look behind every curtain, nothing. After a while, the kids get bored with the house and decide to run down the street where my mom's parents live to tell them what happened on their way to my grandparents house. They're all exchanging stories of their uneventful home search. When my Uncle Bob mentioned something odd earlier, when everyone had split up to scope out the house, he'd open the coat closet in the front hallway.
He looked down at the pairs of shoes lining the floor and noticed something strange in one pair of shoes.
We're a pair of legs. Did you see that coming? I saw it coming, but it's still chilly. It doesn't matter. It's still happened. Scared shitless, I'm sure, but ever pragmatic. My uncle simply shut the door on the coat closet and waited until everyone was across the street to talk about it. Yes. No one ever caught the guy. Nobody was hurt. And in the end, it made for a really spooky story that I'm sure my mother is tired of repeating over and over.
Stay sexy and don't actively seek out home intruders, especially when you're ten years old and your friend's parents aren't home. Emily from Dallas, Texas.
Oh, yeah, it's just classic. It's it's classic. And also sometimes it makes it doesn't matter what the people on the other side of the home intruding are doing. It doesn't matter if they're just trying to get some money. It doesn't matter because on the other side of that, a person in your house is the scariest thing. You can only assume they're there to murder. Like, you can only assume that. So, right.
It's just always the creepiest story. And then just the idea where you're just like, I bet you're right, is that kid saw the legs.
He was just like, why are we looking for the shoes? Like, this was a big mistake. But it's also there's also this thing about like, OK, there's an intruder who's like trying to steal like the china or the silver like, but someone smashing plates and opening kitchen cabinets. That's like a different level of what are you doing here? And they're knocking things over. That's why. Why are you housewares busy working in our kitchen?
Are you just nuts? So like what? Yeah. You're not a bad burglar. You're like out for your like an elephant burglar. Maybe it was a cat in a china shop, that's not right. A bull in a china shop. Yeah, cat shop would be cute and cute and quiet. Nothing would happen. This the subject line of this is accidental parental neglect, toddler shenanigans and a miraculous lack of disaster. Hi, everyone. This week's hometown about being accidentally abandoned at a winery.
Hunt reminded me that that sentence says it all. If you didn't hear it reminded me of the time my parents also nearly lost small me due to momentary parenting failure until I was about seven. My family only had one car on account of it being the early 90s and living in a small town. So each morning everyone would get into the car and we'd drop mom at work and my brother at school and Dad and I would go back home. When mom was done at work in the evenings, she'd call and Dad would get the keys and tell us it was time to go pick up Mom and then we'd all go and bring her home.
One day I was about two and Dad was doing some boring adult thing that wasn't focusing all his attention on me, like washing clothes or cleaning the house. Two year old me decided that this was bullshit and it was time to get another adult on the scene so I could get the attention.
I so clearly deserve love. And this is all in this is entitled Case. Being a strong, independent toddler who didn't need no adult, I took matters into my own hands, found dad and announced I was going to pick up mom.
Yeah, this is a fun kid, Dad.
Thinking that the two year old was playing a game of some sort, went, OK, sure, have fun and went back to whatever not meeting he was paying attention to. I, however, grabbed a set of old keys from the toy box and walked out the front of the house and wandered off in the general direction of Mom's office.
Oh, I'll cut to about fifteen minutes later when Dad realizes things are suspiciously quiet, he goes looking for me and realizes I am not in the house.
He remembers telling me to have fun picking up mom freaks out, legs it to the police station. Fortunately, a lovely grandmotherly type had found me walking down the the side of the old highway.
My God, almost certainly not wearing shoes, taking me home with her, called the police and then given me a glass of cordial and some cream filled biscuits. A glass of liquor. No, no, no. That's not. No. Why would do you think she'd give the baby liquor if she is a fun grandma?
I bet you this is from this looks like it might be from Wales. The name looks so decidedly well, Sholay like a sweet drink of some sort. Yeah. Subverts maybe it's made maybe a strawberry milk. Stephen, did you find it. Stephen's looking it up. Yes.
Seriously, it's to describe a tonic sirup or nonalcoholic drink that is often considered to be quite sweet.
Really. Ah yeah. Shirley Temple. All right, my bad. Sorry to throw that grandma under the bus.
They got this kid got double treats like. Can you imagine your grandma giving you a Shirley Temple. My cookies, something of an unsupervised children will get a coffee and a little espresso and a puppy. It's the thing of like, well, let me know that before I send him home to his parents, OK?
Oh, and they say a glass of cordial and some cream filled biscuits, neither of which we had at home. Yeah. And Dad Dad came to retrieve me shortly after. Nearly 30 years later, he maintains this is one of the scariest things that's ever happened to him. And I have no clear memory of anything except the fact that getting cordial and cookies at the same time was really exciting.
Oh, my God, stay sexy and maybe don't give the toddler permission to walk down main roads unaccompanied carried when that's amazing.
This name is c e i r i d w e n and then they gate. They gave me the phonetic. Good for you.
It carried with these have been some really lately greatly written and wonderfully written hometowns. Yeah. This one tops the cake.
I also cake. It could top the cake with some wonderful frosting you can take writing to and have it with a cordial take it to the old lady down the street that saves your children.
And that's when my parents decided to move to Petaluma. My mom was like, I can't raise kids in this city. She's not wrong. And they went to the country. Wow. It's a theme I know. We can all feel strapped for time, whether it's juggling work from home and helping your kids resume classes or cleaning the house for the umpteenth time this week. Now is the perfect time to take a break from cooking and order the food you love with grub.
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That was great. OK, this is called David Lynch style small town secrets and Filthy, Dirty Tales from the Dry Cleaner.
Hi. All this is in response to your recent many Minnesota when a listener dished the dirt on Niños photo processing labs. Yes, this reminded me of the time I worked in one. And yes, we saw all the photos. In fact, the manager helpfully kept a stash in his drawer of young women posing in underwear, probably in case the owners lost their copy. Right.
Although the majority of photos I saw were of naked, middle aged swingers standing in a field somewhere. Oh, what is up with the field and swingers? Can someone enlighten us?
Maybe it's like they just feel freer. They're better than a living room. Sure. Less smells the air on your junk ball sack.
OK, but this also reminded me of another dirty secret of profession. I worked in the dry cleaner. I just hadn't crossed my mind how nasty that must be for real. I was eighteen when I worked there for the summer and being eighteen, I really didn't think too much about the job beyond the money as there's no way you'd get me to rifle through the stained clothes of strangers.
Now you are literally forced to confront every type of bodily fluid produced by humans and then have a detailed conversation with its creator about how best to remove it.
Its creator. I applaud you for that work, but that's never once taken something to the dry cleaner that had an embarrassing fluid on it.
It's like that's gone. It's gone and they've been way.
Let me point out how disgusting I need I need this God to see this. I made it.
Well, here, listen to this. And when it comes to secretions, there is one that causes more mumbling denial and lack of eye contact than all the others say it with me seems enough.
Customers will point out this mystery stain on their trousers even when there's no need, just so they can deny its very existence usually followed up by.
I'm not sure what that is. Can you do something about this? I don't know how it got there. My lipstick, where it shouldn't be, is the other stain that brings out the fear and denial in people.
I also think that I inadvertently helped to cover up a murder when one day a shifty guy in sunglasses came in and dropped off a sealed bag on opening. It contained a heavily bloodstained overalls. When I saw them, I froze on the spot. I had such a strong feeling that something was off, but my manager said, Just run them through the machine twice. Then it says Goodbye, Diana. I always think that homicide detectives should talk to dry cleaners as they truly do know everyone's dirty secrets.
But that would probably make for the world's worst detective show because those are the dumbest, dumbest murderers like. Yeah, why in God's name would you not get rid of incredibly bloody overall?
Don't give tips away, Karen. Don't give tips tricks. If you can afford dry cleaning, you can afford another pair of flats. That's right.
And then I also hope that because it's overalls and maybe he worked in like a butcher business or like a farm slaughter business, he was in the farm slaughter business.
Probably got a lot of those farmers when they get old, put out to pasture.
I would just prefer to work on a farm cattle farm. That's my. Absolutely. They don't deserve to die. They got farms.
Anyway, thank you for all you do. And please continue to do it as lots of us rely on your human strength and warmth and life lessons just to get by. Oh, and support dry cleaners who are probably a dying trade as we're all wearing sweat pants now. Love you both. And Steven two x x. Laura. Wow, that's such a good one. Laura Yeah. Yeah. Guys use these as inspiration and tell us about your most fucked up jobs.
What's your most fucked up job? The Gap. It's mine. Yeah. Or being a comedian. Some of those some of the clubs you've played her promises.
Talk about bloody overalls, sticky floors and bloody overalls. That's your memoir.
That's all stand up actually is it's trying to tell jokes to 11 people is like six pairs of bloody.
You know what mine is? I work. Do you remember there was on the long pre and libris, there was a thrift store on the corner there.
It said time to shop like a vintage. Yeah, OK. I went there five dollars an hour under the table and it was the first day I worked there. The first hour someone took a shit in the changing room.
No, that's why I got broken into in the back.
It was just it was so much klodt like dirty old clothes. They accepted anything. Yeah. And so people would come in, I'd give away clothes to homeless people all the time. It was just like people would like to trade their clothes in like on the spot.
Go check it was I'll give you this shirt for your shirt. Yeah.
Yeah it was. It was a real fun job, but it drove my mother so crazy that I shopped at thrift stores my to you because she would go, you're going to get lice, you're going to get lice. I'm like, no, ma'am, it's cool. Bigram.
I didn't understand, like coming out of the Depression and like needing to buy used clothes being like, why are you choosing to buy use volunteering.
And you're like, yes, I want to wear your clothes because you didn't fucking save your clothes. OK. This last one is old timey pet hero. Dear Georgia, Karen, Steve, Steven, pets and listeners.
Oh, finally, the listeners get, you know, a tip of the hat. Nice one. I'm in love with your podcast and I really appreciate your honest talk about mental health. You have helped me more than I can express. Now on with my tale. Thank you.
Thank you. Now, you may go on the story about the hero Rottweiler that you read on Minnesota 17 reminded me of a family story that I discovered while doing genealogy research. Let me set the scene. It's July 10th, 1828, and a ship called The Dispatch was carrying 200 Irish immigrants to Canada, and it has sunk off the coast of Newfoundland.
A 17 year old girl named Anne Harvey was fishing with her father off the tiny isle more, which means Death Island when they noticed a keg and a straw mattress floating in the waves. They knew that a ship was in trouble and quickly retrieved Anne's brother and their Newfoundland dog to assist in the search. Have you seen a Newfoundland?
Are those dogs fluffs? There's those big black ones, or sometimes brown, I think. And their their fur is really thick in their heads. They almost kind of look like Saint Bernard ish, but they're a little more. And they and they just all they do is save people. They're all about it's like we're here for you. What do you need? You keep doing. It's like it's like a parent trying to constantly make sure their child doesn't not do things to die.
Yeah. Like that. You're humans and you're constantly trying to do things to kill yourselves. That's what I here for. Fine.
I'm here. I'll go into the ice cold water on. OK, so they discovered many survivors clinging to a tiny island that would become known as Rech Rock. The waves were treacherous and they could not get their boat closer than 100 feet to the island due to due to the heavy seas. The problem was solved by throwing a billet of wood attached to a rope into the water. And they had their dog. His name is Harryman. Oh, that was the name of the dog Harryman.
Swim to the wood and drag it to the survivors. One person or a parent and child would grasp the wood and Harryman would drag them to end quote.
How do you even know how to do the. I just knew it it just knew what it is, but it's a little tugboat. They did this over and over again from Sunday morning until all the survivors were rescued on Tuesday morning. Oh, my God. So for two full days, they did it. They could not have accomplished this without the help of their heroic Newfoundlander dog, Harryman. I am related to the smiley family that survived this wreck.
They had been immigrating with their two toddler daughters and were to settle in Ontario. Another ship was sent to rescue the survivors off Death Island and took them to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Upon arriving, my ancestor, Katherine Smiley, refused to ever board another ship. Well, yes, captain. Yes. What did you. What did she say?
Had she said, there's no way I'm getting on that thing again. They go down. They go down. Thank you.
Any more smart dogs around like this other one? We lucked out this time. All right. She refused to ever board another ship and the family settled in Nova Scotia. If it weren't for the quick reaction of Ann Harvey, her family and most importantly, Harryman, my family would not exist. It's amazing how the actions of a dog made my life and that of my children possible. It makes me guilty for complaining about the constant dog hair that falls off of my beloved Jack Russell terrier.
Milo, remember to stay sexy and always have a Newfoundland dog with you when sailing across the Atlantic Ocean and don't get murdered. Your loyal listener, Val.
Oh, that was a great story. Do you think our dogs would do that? I think they would try. Frank, I think would be a hero the past. Can you see Frank there? I can see Frank passed the fuck out on a cushy mattress. Frank has his own bed. And Frank might try if there was like a bag of Doritos attached to your neck.
Somehow that's the only way Frank would help dip his pie in the water like it's too cold. Where is that? Oh, I didn't turn the heat on.
This thing is like, yeah, I'd love to. You know, it's funny because George will not go near water. Oh, really? Yeah. Frank will do anything to you know, if everybody had a bag of garbage, Frank would be on that island.
Like, what do you need? I'm here for you. Just let me tear into that garbage. That's his passion.
If only we all have garbage attached to us, our lives would be constantly saved by dogs. How cute would that be if they were like, you're like, I'm not I'm just grocery shopping with my garbage bags. It's fine. I like garbage. Leave me alone. Send us those stories that are similar but different. That's that's how it always has been. That's how it always will be. This was a perfect episode with perfectly written emails. If you've got one the same or better, you know that you owe it to us.
Feel free to revise your email that you sent before. You know, maybe have your friend who's who's taken lit classes jazz up a little for you, go through, do some linkups. Chances are we've never read it. Don't take it personally. Yeah. So send it in again. Fill up that mailbox until we have to pay a lot of money for our Google.
That's the new contest. See if you can fill the Gmail until this isn't really worth it anymore because they're just paying so much for our Gmail account. And also, here's one more thing we want you to do.
Stay sexy and don't get murdered by Elvis. Do you want a cookie? I.