My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark
Hosted by Georgia Hardstark and Karen Kilgariff
This week’s hometowns include a canoe voyage and finding a long-lost sibling.
8,008 words · 6 speakers
Speaker names marked ? are inferred from speaking time and the show’s known hosts — they are not voice-verified.
This is exactly right.
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Hello. Welcome. To my favorite murder. The minisode. That's right. It's small. It's an episode, so we named it a minisode. Do you see the logic that we're using here?
Are you fighting us tooth and nail?
What would you call it? We want to know.
The maxi sewed?
The midi sewed. Isn't that a, our like dresses midi now too?
Yeah.
The midi sewed.
Mm hmm. That's also a choice. There's also the maxi pad sewed.
Absolutely. With wings.
One of our greatest bits of all time. The always maxi pad bit. Here we go.
Okay.
This is a classic hometown and the subject line is classic hometown POV from my six year old self.
Great.
Hi ladies, I've been listening for years. Thanks to my amazing brother who introduced me to your pod. My boyfriend has suffered, and that suffered in quotes, through hours of your show. Thanks to me. Thanks to me.
Mine has too.
We taught young women to de-center men by centering us.
I love it.
It's pretty intense.
Yeah, I'm holding space for that.
Uh, okay. It literally says, okay, to this story. I've been wanting to share this story for months and I'm finally getting around to sending it in. My classic hometown story takes place in San Diego, Pue in 2010. I was only six years old at the time, but I remember this story so clearly. And I've always had a weird connection to the girl who died. Chelsea King was a 16 year old track star from Pue High School, who left her home on the morning of February 25th to go for her regular run at the Rancho Bernardino Community Park. When she hadn't returned by 5:00 PM that evening, her family grew concerned and went to the park looking for her. The next day, her face was all over the local news and posters were plastered everywhere.
A few days into the investigation, her underwear was found at Lake Hodges 14 miles from where she went on her run. Her DNA, as well as DNA from a registered sex offender, John Gardner, was found on her underwear. At that point, it was sadly clear that she would not be found alive. John Gardner was arrested on suspicion of first degree murder. And on March 2nd, 2010, Chelsea's body was found in an isolated area of Lake Hodges. When it came out that her body had been recovered, I can remember the news playing at my house for hours. She lived less than 10 minutes from me. Being a six-year-old girl, I obviously didn't know all the details of her death. But I was old enough to know that something really bad had happened to her.
I remember mourning her death. When family members would talk about her, they would always look at me and say the same thing. You look just like her.
Oh.
For a little, for a child.
Don't say that to a child, everyone.
No. And then it says that always stuck with me. And as a six-year-old, all I could see was myself 10 years later, when she would be on the TV screen in my living room. I remember crying over her death and having so many confusing thoughts. I wanted to write her and her family letters. Obviously, those letters were just a confusing rambling of words. It didn't make sense because I was a first grader, but for whatever reason, I felt heartbroken over her death. The reason is because you have empathy.
And it's somebody in your community, and it's you learning about bad things happen in the world.
Totally. It's so normal and actually, you know, it'd be abnormal if you didn't do that. You know what I mean?
Exactly. Her family set up a foundation in her honor, and my mom and I participated in a 5K to fund college scholarships. Over a million dollars were raised in her name.
Wow.
Her killer was convicted and was linked to another murder that happened just the year before to a 14-year-old girl named Amber Dubois.
I remember this.
Yeah. Her foundation helped raise awareness to the importance of keeping sexually violent predators away from areas with children. I still think about her and her family all these years later. Being told I looked just like that girl really did a number on me and is the reason I became the murderer now I am today. Thank you for everything you guys do. This podcast isn't just entertaining, but it's educational and inspiring. You give voices to those who lost theirs too soon. SSDGM Megan.
Fourteen and sixteen. And I like that Meghan points out that what it changed isn't that girls shouldn't be out alone. It's that sexual assault offenders, that's what should change is the sentencing laws and that, you know, how they're monitored, not what we're doing, going for a fucking jog in the afternoon, you know?
Correct.
It's just absurd.
It's the very slow progress, but that is happening where it is. This is, we have to start looking at the people responsible for what is happening and not talking about their reaction to what is happening.
Totally, totally. Yeah, we don't need the curfew. It's the fucking predators who need the curfew.
Yeah. Thanks, Meghan. That was a
A vulnerable one. So, thank you for that.
Totally. Okay, this one's a little more lighthearted.
This is called, "When I Was a Trash Mom."
Hmm.
Hello to all the fabulous people and pets of MFM from North Carolina. In mini-sode 408, you asked us to tell the stories of when we were the trash parents. So, here's the story of when I was a trash mom. Back in the summer of 2018, my brother and his wife came to visit our family and our older brother came to see us all too. They wanted to get a beer in the evening after dinner at a local bar slash restaurant. Our daughters, Carly and Julia, were 11 and 5 at the time. And we had just started leaving them at home for Carly to babysit for short periods of time during the day, like a trip to the grocery store. So, with the 11-year-old is babysitting the 5-year-old.
It's just roll those dice. Why not?
I mean, it's like, you've got to start giving them some, you know, freedom and you've got to, and responsibilities.
Yep.
That's scary. But it's okay. It's okay. It's totally okay. But...
I mean, it's been done for millennia. But it's the same feeling as like when Nora got her, like, driver's permit. And then my sister was like, wait, now she drives? Like, no way.
And I'm like, oh, yes, way. I'll do it. Like, you have to let her.
Now she gets to choose wherever she gets to go.
Don't do it. Okay. And then it says about the grocery store, "Always paid, of course, because I was an unpaid babysitter to my half-sister when I was young." There you go.
"We were just planning to be gone for an hour or so, back at home by 8:30, and we were only going a few miles away. Plans to drink never last an hour." It's never, you're never-
No, no, no. Unless you're a nun.
And even then, maybe not, like, the idea, the whole idea of drinking is for more drinking.
Totally. That's what it does.
Yes, that's a, that's a very me statement, but it's the truth. It's like, that's the whole deal. You break down.
That's why it's addictive.
Yes.
It's the point of it.
The better, the more you have, the more you, the more, the better you get at it.
What's the, one is too many, a thousand isn't enough? Like, come on.
Same with donuts.
Okay, ba-da-da-da-da. We would be home before dark. If they needed anything, Carly had a device she could text us from, and we still had a home phone. Everything's fine.
I'm a rather forgetful person, and I'm always leaving things behind, especially my phone. I realized after we got to the restaurant that I had left my phone at home, but my husband had his, so no big deal, right? And at this point, you'd have the husband text the daughter and be like, yo, text me if anything comes up, right?
Oh, that's a good plan.
Yeah, but they didn't do that.
At this point, I was like, I'm gonna get baked, baked potato skins.
Oh, potato skins. Potato skins. That sounds so good.
I'm just saying, there's no parental skills in me whatsoever, where it's like, wait, here's how we should take care of this problem, or here's how any, like, any, here's best practices for children watching children.
It's like, where's my Long Island Iced Tea? I don't care about anything else.
I have one hour to party.
Right.
Out of my way.
We ordered some munchies, potato skins, and had a couple of rounds of drinks with my husband as designated driver. We were all having fun, and of course, completely lost track of time. Just before 10, my husband got a text message from Carly asking when we were coming home. He said we were on our way, and we rushed back home. We felt guilty about being gone so long, but it got so much worse when I picked up my phone at home and saw a series of missed calls and texts from her, like, when are you coming home? Should I put Julia to bed? I put Julia to bed. Are you guys coming home?
Of course, she sent all of these to me before she bothered to text or call her dad.
Of course.
Yeah. Then Carly told us how she and Julia climbed into Carly's bed to read some stories and there was a spider in her bed. That might not sound like much of a problem, but I have unfortunately passed my arachnophobia to my daughters, so that is a big deal. So she had to kill a spider in her own bed, no doubt with five-year-old Julia screaming the whole time. Needless to say, I felt like the worst mom ever. Actually, we felt so bad that after I overpaid her for babysitting, both of my brothers paid her too. She made over $60 in those three traumatic hours, so it wasn't
Yes, girl.
So it wasn't for nothing.
That's right. That's all that matters, if you can get a little money for the trauma.
Totally. Like, acknowledge my trauma monetarily. That's all we're asking for.
That's how we make up for it.
That's what suing people is. Our Carly, who just turned 18, has never let us forget the time Mom and Dad were only going to be gone an hour and just abandoned us. But both our girls have turned out pretty great. Y'all are the best. I'm a year one listener and really loving the MFM Rewind episodes. I was a skipper for the first few years, but I'm a skipper no more. You always make me laugh. Please keep it coming. In 2025, we're definitely gonna need it. You are not wrong. Did you see that? That was like, I had my seven-day free trial of 2025 and I'd like my money back, please.
And I'd give it to you.
I'd like to cancel my subscription, please.
For real.
Stay sexy and don't forget your phone. Lori, she/her. P.S. I got an Elvis Do You Want a Cookie tote bag for Christmas that I love, picked out by Carly. My third MFM tote bag.
Aww.
Maybe I have a problem. No, you do not. I have
All the plate, yeah, exactly. They rule. And we care a lot about them.
But also, I love that that story comes full circle by the two children in the story. 20 years later, or whatever, buying merch.
Totally. It's like a merch plug at the end of the But it is good, because I'm always like, do we have to, do we want? I'm always like, do people want more totes? Yes. Everyone wants totes.
You never don't need it.
I have like 14.
And how, sorry, but how long were they gone? I missed it.
It seems like three hours, maybe.
Oh, that's fucking nothing. Are you kidding me? How dare you?
11 these days is like, young, though. We were smoking fucking cloves already, but these days
Yeah, it's so young and it's so not at home by yourself with little kids.
No.
Also, it is that thing where it's like, whether it's a spider in your bed, or just the idea that suddenly like you look into the kitchen and everything looks kind of sinister and sharp.
Like, it's just like, it's such a young, it's the first time to be like, oh, and if something goes down, it's on me.
And it's so quiet, the first time you're like, home alone.
So quiet. Especially when you hear the scratching in the attic.
Right?
Oof. I was home by myself and, but I was like 21 or two. And I heard something in the attic. And I had a cat that was just staring at the attic. I was like, it was probably a possum.
But then, when I, I was like, so I went into my parents', like, it's, it's gonna sound super fancy, but they have a walk-in closet that's the most low-key walk-in closet of all time.
Yeah, it's like you can step inside.
Yeah, it's very like 1987 version. But I went to try the door and it felt like someone was pressing back against the door. And I ran, I just ran, got into my car and drove out to my old neighbor's house. And I was like, it was like, almost midnight. I was like, he's like, what are you doing? And I'm like, you have to come back with me. I think someone's in my parents' house. And I made him come and like, check the entire house.
Good for you. I would've been like, I'm pretending that didn't happen. And like, go to bed.
It was because the cat, the cat was, the cat was like, basically pointing to the door.
The cats will alert you.
They will alert you and freak you the fuck out.
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The subject line of this email is Runaway Child. Hi, lovely ladies, longtime listener, fourth or fifth time writer, I've lost count. When I was in second grade, they just go right into it.
Mm hmm. Just a little bit of passive aggressive hint, hint. And then here we go. When I was in second grade, my mom took a leave of absence from work to stay home with my youngest brother, who had just been born the year before. During this time, she also watched two family friends after school to earn some extra cash. I can only assume she was being compensated.
Oh, God.
That was in parentheses. Brennan was my best friend at the time. And one day, we decided that I was going to go home with her. While our moms were inside talking, I snuck into the backseat of her car. This is my jam. This is KK.
All the way.
Age nine. I just loved this shit. I loved doing this shit. Okay.
This was just a normal four door car, not an SUV with a hatchback. So I laid on the floor behind her driver's seat, and Brennan and her little sister covered me with their backpacks and coats.
And then in parentheses, for some reason, I remember foil, but that seems like an absurd thing for eight year olds to have on hand.
Maybe they had one of those like runners, post-run.
Foil jackets.
Or like blankets.
Some kind of a camping, leftover camping equipment, or someone did a 10K. How many Ks is it? 12K?
It's 10, 5K, 10K. I don't think you'd need one for a 5K, or maybe not even a 10K.
How, how long was the last one you ran?
Honestly, I ran, I used to run 5 and 10Ks when I was like in elementary school with my mom.
What?
I know. I loved running as a kid.
I know, it's weird.
It's still fresh Georgia. There's still stuff to learn about each other. Look.
Look at us.
Look. Look at us, still discovering, we're still in the discovery.
Look at us, it's still taught, you can still, there's still time to go back. I'm like, no, there fucking isn't.
No, no. Oh, please don't, you'll, immediately both your hips will fall off. Her mom got in the car and started driving. I held my breath and tried to steady my breathing. We made it to Brennan's house and they all got out of the car. This is where the plan faltered, as we didn't actually think I'd make it to her house. Brennan was able to sneak back into the garage and get me to the basement. At this point, we had no idea what to do. Would my mom freak out and call, wondering where I was? No. Would Brennan's mom find me? No. After an hour or so, we both went upstairs and told Brennan's mom what had happened. She was none too thrilled and called my mom to let her know. I assumed at this point, there'd be a search happening, as we were going on two hours of an eight-year-old missing from home.
But alas, neither my mom or dad knew I was gone.
What the, she went to pick her up at school and came home without her. Where is the, like, there's no, how do you miss that?
She just, because she was kind of chatting and then just like she got distracted. I'm sure my six-year-old and one-year-old brothers were keeping them occupied. That's what it is.
Maybe.
Intense baby brain. Anyway, I don't know how I got back home, but after that day Brennan's mom always checked the backseat.
Thanks for all you do to make the world a better place and for giving shout-outs to teachers when talking about Karen's sister. It can be rough out there. Stay sexy and are you a runaway if no one notices? Bailey.
Oh, it's not fair.
It's not.
There. That's hilarious.
It's like they pay attention to you when you don't want them to pay attention to you.
And then no one pays attention when you're trying to do a show.
Oh, you see fucking everything when I'm trying to be sneaky and then you're trying to do a show. I'm not going to tell you the title of this one, but you'll probably, you'll probably get it.
Hi, everyone. But it just goes into somewhere in the Midwest during the eighties. My younger sister and I were dragged to my grandpa's house so the family could go out back and play cards. Like, what would you give to fucking be there right now?
In the sixties, you said?
Eighties even. In the Midwest, playing cards in the backyard, like.
I mean, just, you know, there's cafe lights hung from a tree to the back porch roof.
Oh, and speaking of Miller High Life, it's fucking, it was just like bottles popping, right?
And if you're gonna talk about cafe lights, you better be talking about Miller High Life, girl.
That's our song. That's our country song we're about to write. Get ready. When we first arrived, everyone ate dinner and then the kids were promptly shoved into the spare room to, quote, "play." This bedroom was circa 1960 with shag carpet, rock hard bed. My grandma had this fucking room. Everything smelled musty and it had a small TV with a VCR in the bottom to play Lassie for the hundredth time. Like, I am there.
You know? It was kid prison, which is one word. I'm about seven and the oldest between all the kids. There are five of us, bored out of our minds. So naturally, we need to do something about that. Earlier during dinner, I remembered seeing this massive jar in the fridge filled with red stuff. And before being shoved into kid prison, I got a sneak peek. Now to the master plan. I convinced my cousin to go with me to get the jar because it's a two man job. Plus, I had another cousin being lookout. We were sophisticated criminals then. We managed to slowly carry this massive jar of cherries to the kid prison, where we all stood around and admired its glory. There's nothing better in life when you're a child than maraschino cherries.
I'm sorry to keep on talking about Nora, but she, to this day, anytime we go out to eat lunch or dinner, she's like, can I get a chili tempa? And it's like, you're 18 years old. But it's that vibe. It's that it is magical. It'll never not be magical.
No, I was seven and I still remember the waiter at the restaurant overhearing me say, I did a million marshy on cherries if I could. And he brought me a fucking like shot glass full of them. I still, it was like one of the best days of my life.
That's called customer service, right there.
That's fucking right. I'm sure my dad tipped like shit. Okay.
Marty.
What a, okay. Da, da, da, da, da, glory. We finally cracked it open. All grabbed a cherry and popped it in her mouth at the same time. Almost as quick, we instantly spit it out. Ew, gross. These cherries don't taste right. And then we decided we don't care and we went full in. I had a pink arm up to my bicep from grabbing cherries. We were in heaven. And then, so the, the title of this one's called Drunk Kids because it says, fast forward to drunk parents finding drunk kids passed out everywhere with a cherryless jar. Everyone was freaking out. Kids were stumbling, my little sister puking. It's hilarious to hear the stories because I only remember the first part of that night.
To this day, my aunts and uncles can't agree what the cherries were soaking in. Some say moonshine, some say gin, others say moonshine.
Stay sexy and don't put your boozy fruit on the bottom shelf. Sue's.
Sue's, the, okay, wait, it was her brothers and sisters and then like cousins?
Cousins, yeah.
Fuck that. There's, there's something really joyous. There was a moment post trying that like, cause it's so little kid to be like, these taste terrible. Well, we're just gonna keep eating them.
I want them, yeah.
I want them and I have to have them. But there must've been this glory moment between like the last little kid eating their maraschino cherry and some sort of let's run on the couch. Let's chase each other, but on the couch type of thing. Like some older sister came up with a rad game for a bunch of drunk, moonshine drunk kids that probably only could be sustained for about four minutes. And then it was mayhem.
For the moment, there was glory.
And it was true. All kids, you know, the floor is lava style game joy.
Oh, to go back.
And you've been searching for it ever since.
And you'll never find it.
You'll never find it.
That's why now is a good time to think about home security with Simply Safe.
Unlike traditional security systems that alert you after a break in starts, Simply Safe is designed to help stop intruders before they get inside. These days, you're worried about your house. You're out of town and then something comes up and you get to look on your phone. And Simply Safe is going to show you not only the video of like, it's a raccoon at your front door, but also that they have staff that's sitting there. They already know. And if it was something different or worse, they would have already been on it.
Yeah, I really think that's invaluable peace of mind that just like relying on your neighbors, paying attention is not going to give you. We've partnered with Simply Safe to offer our listeners their biggest savings of the year. 70% off your new system with professional monitoring when you visit simplysafe.com/mfm.
That's simplysafe.com/mfm. And when you order, write in MFM at checkout and it tells them we sent you. And it really helps the show.
Simply Safe, ahead of crime in real time.
Especially when everyone includes yourself.
Find thoughtful, high quality gifts for everyone on your list at Quince.
Quince makes beautiful everyday essentials with high quality materials like Mongolian cashmere, organic cotton and premium stretch denim. They're the kind of things you love to give as a gift or get yourself.
Their 100% Mongolian cashmere sweaters start at just $50. And they also have beautiful 14 karat gold earrings and bracelets that make great gifts.
I was so excited when I got home and I got to break out my gray Quince cashmere sweater that I wear constantly around the house. We've been waiting for even the slightest temperature drop so that we could get into sweater weather and finally it's here. And I celebrated with my beautiful Quince cashmere sweater that I think I got the second year we started doing ads for them.
And when Quince asks where you heard about them, let them know it was My Favorite Murder. It's the best way to support the show.
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My last email is a classic trash dad. And in parentheses, that's what the subject line is. And then it says, four minute read. So it says, I've been listening since 2018 and I started with the episode where you covered the serial killer in Hawaii, followed by coincidence island.
Nice.
The rest is history. You are truly the best slash my favorite.
Oh, thank you.
My parents divorced when I was in elementary school and my dad moved out to the Pacific Northwest from the Midwest to basically start over. That meant for two weeks over Christmas and two months every summer, my sister and I got to fly out and visit. We did lots of fun activities in Washington and my dad enjoyed the outdoors and encouraged us to do the same. Sometimes his eagerness for us to have fun bordered on dangerous.
These are my favorite.
Single dads, so much fun.
Single dads riffen activities.
Yep. How do I do this?
What's, what's, what do I think is fun? They'll be fine is usually the mentality. One summer, when I was about 14, my dad thought it would be very fun for me and my 15 year old sister and 12 year old stepbrother to go on a canoe voyage. He had a small canoe that we would utilize in small ponds, mostly to putter around and go fishing. The plan, drop the three of us children off at a boat dock on the Columbia River. In this section of the river, it was a few hundred feet wide, very swift and very deep.
In a canoe?
In a canoe. And the Columbia River is fucking serious shit.
Is it? Okay. Shit.
The first thing I thought of was like, I'm pretty sure we've done stories that involves the Columbia River.
Somewhere in my filing cabinet of my life.
But then also, they have their own clothing line. So you know, it's not just like a low key river.
A trickle. There's no trickle for a clothing line.
There's gotta be like some rapids and shit.
Could be wrong though. Okay. We were armed with three paddles, three life jackets, a safe, and then it says in parentheses, a safe trash dad, and a cooler of water and snacks. My sister had a small, primitive cellphone circa 2010 that we put in a plastic bag in the cooler.
Smart.
Smart. I kid you not, he dropped us off and casually said, I'll pick you up in a few hours down river.
I'll pick you up in a few hours down river. Just make sure you don't go past the dock I need to get you at. And thus our adventure began.
Like, holy shit.
Oh my god.
We did not realize how massive the river was until it was just us on our tiny canoe. We stayed close to the edge so we wouldn't get out to water that was too deep. We stopped for a lovely picnic lunch on a small sandbar. Our chests puffed up at our false senses of accomplishment at Lewis and Clarking our way down this river. We were almost to our pickup point when we snagged a low hanging branch and tipped the canoe.
I'm proud to say that I saved the snack cooler. And after getting the canoe to the bank and putting it back upright, we journeyed on and even found the oar we lost in the capsizing, floating down the river slightly ahead of us. That's pretty cool. All in all, a great experience minus getting eaten alive by mosquitoes and tipping the canoe. My dad was proud of us for doing it by ourselves. I see now that plopping three children in a massive river alone was not his best idea. He died when I was 18 after a short and brutal cancer fight. Oh, that is one of the saddest sentences you can write.
Totally.
I wish he were here to teach my kids, the grandkids he never got to meet, how to do all the amazing things he taught me to do. I like to think that he sees me now and is proud. Stay sexy and hug your dad, Mallory.
Oh, Mallory. Yeah, like, once they got back, I was like, like safely. I was like, he really like gave them courage and like that was maybe the point is like, you can make it here and back, fucking do it.
Yeah, and maybe he was like secretly driving along somewhere, watching them, although it doesn't feel like it.
But, no, it is that kind of, somebody was talking about that, I'm sure, on TikTok, but it's that thing of like, we really did, this older generation that really was like, we were, we had play-based learning, we were outside all the time, we had to deal with, we would create issues and we had to solve those issues, like all that kind of stuff.
My childhood mantra that my mom always said was fend for yourself. And yeah, we fucking did it.
Okay, my last one. This is called serendipitous half-sister. It says approximately three minute 45 second read at Georgia speed.
What does that mean?
Are you fast or slow?
I don't know. I've got, I've got to be fast, according to my mom. Okay.
Doesn't it weird every once in a while you just get that thing of like how we are being perceived? Like, we are being perceived in the wildest, fucking weirdest ways that like have nothing to do with who I know myself to be.
No, but I think after nine years, it's gotta be pretty accurate. You know what I mean?
I know. I just don't like it. It's not up to them. It's up to me.
Okay, well, I read fast, so here we go. And this is long.
Prove it. Right now.
Happy New Year, y'all. A little late, but I parted a bit too hard to say it on time. You asked for crazy coincidence stories in your last hometown episode, so this is the story of my father's long-lost half-sister, and how a random drunk guy from Texas got sober and reconnected the two of them.
It seemed like every vacation my family took, even states away, my father would run into someone he knew from long ago, be it a pool, campground, Cracker Barrel, or many times at AA meetings. Dad was like a magnet for that sort of thing. Maybe it had to do with the fact that AA is often astonishingly full of people you used to know.
Yeah, that's right.
He was a masterful storyteller. Dad never grew tired of sharing stories about running wild with mischief as a little boy in the streets of New York City during the Great Depression. And then it says in parentheses, 1930s, as if I also don't fucking know when the Great Depression, like a little, that's what you're talking about. I get it. I hear you.
That hurts. That hurts.
I know when that is.
Sorry, just for future writers in, if you have a dad that grew up on the fucking literal streets of New York City during the Depression, and, and you're gonna brag that he has great stories, and you don't share one synopscized version with us, click, a clicky before you get to your main, come on.
I know. I know. It's already long, so they probably are like, how am I gonna get this?
Please write back in.
Please write back in. We spent rainy days binge-watching VHS tapes of Oliver and Hardy, The Three Stooges, and Little Rascals, while imagining his childhood as a soot-covered scrounderall playing in black and white.
Oliver and Hardy, is that what, what's written there? Oliver and Hardy?
It's Laurel and Hardy.
I know, right?
But I think there's because...
Maybe it's a...
I think one of their last names was Oliver. It was like Stan Laurel and somebody Oliver?
Probably, and maybe it was autocorrect.
Yeah. Well. Well.
Well.
Hate to correct you.
Can't go back.
And also not know the truth, but that's kind of, that's how I really am.
I'm keeping it.
Now that I understand what nostalgia looks like, I can see it in memories of my father's face as he recounted the details of his juvenescence. Juvenile adolescence, like that.
Yes, I guess so.
There was always a moment Dad would recall his half sister Dorothy, who had left home as a teenager. I suppose she could not get along with my grandmother, who may have had a heavy hand. Dad prayed to find her someday. She was the only one who might still remain. Having eventually moved away from New York, my family ended up in South Carolina. I was about 11 years old when, after an AA meeting, my father spoke with a visiting Texan about his long lost sister Dorothy.
The man's face twisted into amazement. He himself had met a woman years before, who had gone on in the same fashion about her long lost brother. The strange Texan had met her on a separate trip to New York years before becoming so her, and apparently shared this very intimate conversation with her and stayed in Christmas card contact. Her name, Dottie, shorthand for Dorothy. The stranger took our phone number and told my dad, when I get home, I'll just check and let you know. Well, it was her, all right.
What the fuck?
That's crazy.
I know.
It happened quickly and the two were soon hollering on the phone. A few weeks later, Dad was on a flight to meet her. He came back with new photos of my grandfather and even of himself, many he had never seen before, and none of which I had seen. Until then, Dad had only one remaining photo of his father. They all only exist in photos now, and I recount the past by these limited images I have, but this little serendipitous moment remains the story that connects them to me in ways that is still so inexplicable. I'm Irish blooded and long winded, so I'm afraid of sending too long of an email. There you go. But some other someday, I'll tell you about my mother, who after spending 14 years as a nun, fell in love with my same magical trash dad, who was under indictment at the time.
Yes. What? Yes. This is it.
It says SSGG on its sign. Boop, with an exclamation mark and a fucking emoji smiley face. Boop.
That's the person's name?
That's how they signed it. Boop, boop. Like what you do to a cat.
They're just like, I'm out.
I'm out.
This is anonymous, basically.
Oh, my God. That was delightful.
But I feel like people need to understand the important parts of stories. You don't have to hear the whole story about the nun and the guy under indictment. Just like the moments that their hand first touched. Like, just give us a little bit of that. What was the, what was the pre to the breakthrough? To the, I am, I am gonna break up with Jesus and get with you. A straight up criminal.
It had to be hot as fuck to be like that powerful. Praise the, praise the Lord.
Yeah. Praise that Lord.
Send us your stories.
Oh, my God, I want nun stories.
But the nuns need to start writing in. Why did you accept the calling? Why, why did you leave the calling behind?
Right, why did you change your name and get a new fake social security number? And you're coming on. Uh, my favorite murder at Gmail.
I think this is the first episode that's not an old record since the fires.
Oh, yeah. Oh, this is the first, yeah.
And we are, I guess, I was just gonna point out, we're still in the middle of a natural disaster. So we don't really, like, please forgive everyone. I think everyone is getting this on social media. We're like, no one knows what the hell is going on and no one, everyone's afraid to say anything. Or we're all holding our breath and waiting for this, these next 48 hours to pass.
And it's really nice that people checked in on us. And we're very happy to have been able to tell you that we're okay. And, yeah, that everyone is okay here.
Yeah, thank you guys for checking in so much. We appreciate it.
Very nice. And, you know, until next time, 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 Leona Scolacci.
Email your hometowns to [email protected].
And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at MyFavoriteMurder.
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