MFM Minisode 485

Say hello and welcome to my favorite murder the minis.

That's right, we read you your story, your stories.

I want you to go down like this is a play. And I keep forgetting a line. You know those in cartoons where there's a person in like a little halfshell that's like whispering lines to people. That's to me what that hand is where you're just.

Like like, not the normal, not the other, do this.

No, and then this is yeah, and then the end. I think you go first on this one.

Regular on minisode, Let's do this dode okay, Sale by a Salute Washington State Fairy Edition. Hello Karen Georgia and all of my other MFM besties. When I heard episode five twenty four about the to Concordia and how the captain did the sale by salute to impress a woman and then it says sir with this emoji, I immediately thought of the Pacific Northwest version of this exact nonsense and knew I had to share our much less tragic

The most beautiful. Like, what a place, What a gift to live there?

Yeah, a quiet, fairy dependent archipelagio. Yeah, it is where nothing crazy ever happens except deer jumping fences to mow down entire gardens or the occasional trespassing tourist, which is why this story lives on in local legend. Back in nineteen eighty three, the Washington State ferry elwa was doing a normal Sunday run through the islands. Think people heading home cars packed with island essentials, and tourists scanning the horizon of the Solish Sea for our beautiful resident Orcas.

I love an Orca. Okay, were they trying to kill billionaires? Is that's why they were up.

There, beautiful resident Orcas. Meanwhile, the fifty seven year old captain of the Elwah ferry invites a female passenger up for a tour of the vessel's wheelhouse for the hour or so sailing.

Has a fairy captain ever invited you up into the wheelhouse.

I've been on a fucking ferry, fucking ship, and no, we got to get you a ship.

Get me on a ship, you'd love it. I get so sick.

Get your own After a while.

The captain began joking about taking a little detour in order to sail by the lovely passenger's home as they approached the mouth of the aptly named Grindstone Harbor on Orca's Island, where she recited She's like, oh, I live over there, and he was like, let's drive by and do a salute.

Even though we're on a ferry where there's all these passengers and commuters.

That's right, that's called common sense, Karen. But I wonder what's in his little flask. You know, at the time the passenger thinks he's joking, such a detour would put

In today's money. This happened in the nineties.

This happened in eighty three, oh eighty three.

To say the number again, two hundred and two.

Hundred, two thousand, and thank you because Kelly put how much it is in today's my six hundred thousand, seven hundred, but closer. Yes, I was like in the ballpark, and because we don't have time for that kind of shit here, the fairy continued on, limping its way to Shaw Island and then to Orca's Island, where it was patched up before heading to Seattle for more permanent repairs.

So it actually was such a strong fairy it kind of made it out of there anyway.

It was like, all good, let's just keep going, get this over with.

What about all the people on the faerry whose teeth hit the window or whatever?

Fuck It's.

Thankfully no one was hurt except for that one lady in the incident. But here's the fuck dub part. Ready for the recently widowed passenger. The woman and longtime Orcas Island resident who was invited into the wheelhouse that day was dubbed the Siren of the san Juans.

Always the woman says siren, as if this woman was just out there luring this dumb ass like little more to the left, captain, and.

Then there's some like music notes next, a little more to the left, captain.

That's her song.

She thought this man was joking and then got stuck into a situation she had zero control over. Somehow she got labeled, her reputation was questioned, and she was turned into a main character of this crazy story. Not quite the classic victim blaming, but definitely it's weird maritime cousin. It's blaming.

It is victim. How is that happen every time?

It's like the same thing where it's like Pam Bondi and Christy Nome are being brought up on charges.

Fucking the worst of the worst.

Names are there, and their emails that they sent are there.

It's yet there, and they're on the news babbling in coherence.

They don't even fucking they disclose the victims' names when they fucking put the documents out which is like.

Literally illegal, literally and that's not what you're supposed to be doing.

And when they take the names out and they put in the they just tract from.

The Siren of the scenes is the headline under which we have been living. Yeah, and twenty twenty six is when this whole thing cracks like that fucking fairy because enough already and everyone has their eyes on it, and everyone's paying attention not to say, listen, send both Christy Nome.

And oh Pam BONDI fuck goodbye, goodbye.

But let's go from the top instead of the fucking bottom. Boys first started at the bottom. Boy said you're not even going up here, okay, And then it says, of course, the captain lost his job after over thirty years with Washington State Fairies. And then it says goodbye bye. And by all accounts, the female passenger's family seems to be able to laugh about it now, although none of them found it funny at the time.

I wonder if when Siren of the san Juans article came out, her picture was in it.

Probably and their name and address, like from the eighty eighties, right from this, here's her phone number. Yeah, they used to do that you guys. They used to just give out, like if someone's getting an award or one something.

They Chris Pharabanks as a child had his name and address printed.

In their newspapers soccer star Chris Fairbanks and then the child's address in there.

Yeah, go visit them pervs.

Uh no, no, no, where are we? Goodbye? It's funny. Anyways, Stay sexy and don't let a man blame you for crashing a faery question mark xoxo and thank you eternally for all you do. Kelly. Ps I celebrated my twenty seventh year as a flight attendant on March fifteenth. You've been asking for those stories lately, so fasten your seatbelts and expect to hear from me again, Kelly. Please good, that's only the first one.

Thank you, Kelly for sparking and igniting.

Yeah, our new show Sirens of San Juan.

The mcnail LAIRR News Hour. Okay, I'm not going to read you the subject line. It just says Dear Karen and Georgia, longtime listener, devoted acolyte. You recently mentioned parts of the Golden State killer timeline that snapped a thirty year old memory into focus a little googling, and some deeply unwelcome pattern recognition later, I'm fairly certain Joseph Dangelo is in my bedroom closet in the fall of nineteen eighty three.

Fuck. I fucking love these stories. Oh my, I mean I hate them. But when you have that realization that, oh, that thing happened. I found the rope that one time under my couch and there shouldn't have been a rope there, but I couldn't figure out why.

Okay, please, sorry, no, no, that is I think of the Golden State Killer's whole story. Him hiding shit in the furniture to come back later is so upsetting mollicle and upset it demonic demmonic like okay.

And then stealing one earring and you're like, where'd that one earring go? That doesn't make any sense.

It's mind fuckery. Like days before the right you're gonna do the worst thing.

You're not gonna call the cops and be like, I think someone was in here, yeah, because they what they do? They you lost an ear Oh my god.

No, he just is starting to rip the seam of yea your am I okay? Okay, well, okay, and perfect point because listen to this. We had just moved to Woodland Hills Foothills, middle class suburbia, easy access to the one oh one, and backyards attached to long corridors of green space. I was fifteen and yes, Karen, yes, I was a latchkey kid.

Georgia was too.

One afternoon I came home to find that we'd been burglarized.

But it was a weird one. The expensive stereo still there, valuables untouched. What was missing?

My dad's wedding band, my mom's diamond lists engagement ring, which had lost its diamond long ago during a diaper change. Oh god, okay, resale value zero, symbolism one hundred and a single twenty dollars bill from my bedroom Q teenage fury. Also missing, my dad's enormous, very sharp chef's knife. Oh but it wasn't stolen. It was placed pointy and out on a shelf in my closet.

Goodbye, never going in there again. Oh my gosh.

Yeah, just cemented. Over the time my parents assumed the rings were taken for gold value. No one was publicly talking yet about a man who targeted wedding symbols and piggybanks, and moved through suburban neighborhoods via freeway corridors. True to his m we also received a series of hang up calls, heavy breathing, then a click. I carelessly assumed it was some random creep who kept redialing because I kept answering, not someone from my closet. Today, Following standard MFM advice,

At the time.

Jesus.

The Golden State Killer was documented in Ventura County in nineteen eighty one and Orange County in nineteen eighty six.

Woodland Hills is right in the middle of it, right.

Woodland Hills sits neatly between them, with the one oh one running straight True.

If you call Paul Holes and say, I bet they have those two rings still in evidence, Oh yeah, right right.

Also, it's so creepy.

Just go into people's houses and touch the things that are like, this means love, this means.

Just like I know the confusion and fear I'm going to put in your mind.

Yeah, Okay, back in eighty three. My dad's response to the incident was to buy a labrador. That's great, knowing now that DiAngelo famously avoided homes with dogs. I give full credit to Oreo for saving our lives. Oreo Cooky, so thank you for giving me the framework to retroactively terrify myself and then call every member of my family to inform them they survived the Golden State Killer. Holy shit, you're welcome family, SSDGM, and maybe check for knives in your closet.

Emma, Long Beach, California, Oh my god.

And then it says ps turns out the Socow killing started around the time DiAngelo and his wife bought a second home in Long Beach.

Shut up, Emma, you.

Are the forest Gump of the Golden Steak killers. Missingly that is still too close form. That is just unbelievable. Yeah, because he would do it.

And then he'd have like a couple places that were available, so that night, if he couldn't get into that one, he'd go to this one instead, just to make sure he always had one available. So he went back and they had a dog, and he's like, well, it's not that one tonight.

Right, or somebody flicks their light on in the backyard and he has to like go to the I mean right, dude, dude and a half. Yeah, this is about a child, which.

It's funny. Hello MFM, FAM, Karen, Georgia, Vince and Pets. When my mom and her siblings were growing up in the Milwaukee suburbs in the nineteen sixties, the summer parenting method was very much go outside until I call you for meals, which was great for neighborhood kick the can, bike races, et cetera, but it also led to power struggles, boredom, and of course witchcraft.

That's right, because you would just be left to your own devices all day.

I think we did all of those things. One summer morning, my mom and her younger brother, Greg, Little Greg a Little Greg, were bored with the usual games and decided to set up the garage for a seance. As you do. They hung up tarps, lit candles, set up a table, and made a crystal ball from an old round cherry jar, glitter and food coloring. Next thing needed a witch as they hadn't been out in the neighborhood yet. They decided

Wig the smell.

She then went into the neighborhood to gather the neighborhood kids, explaining that Greg had the flu, but that their aunt was in town from far away and that she was a witch, and did they want to meet her. Greg's not here right now.

Greg's very, very busy with his work.

Right.

I know you've never seen Greg and the switch together, but trust.

Me, but listen. As similar as they look, Greg takes after his aunt.

Does Greg have a fucking mop for of hair? No it does not.

Does he have gifts from the beyond? I don't think so.

But they want to meet her, which of course they did, especially after my mom said that she could see the future and call dead people that the witch could.

Oh, the mom got into it.

So the mom is the big sister.

This is the from Star story, don't you.

I thought like there was a true adult coming in from the out with ape, you know, apron On being like, right, I know it is a witch, right, which.

Would have been one by one the kids came into the garage, wanting to know their future. No one cared about the dead, I guess. One by one. My uncle the witch explained that it was very grim and that the children and their families would die all calves if they did not shower. At midnight. The kids left, terrified of My mom and uncle were delighted by their prank. At twelve fifteen in the morning, my mom, uncle, Greg, and their parents. I woke to eleven phone calls my

So sorry to interrupte, but like the first phone call does down, I'm so sorry.

Yes, we'll take care of it. Yeah, the second the phone hits. The rest of it in phone calls, just rolling calls.

Uh. They were grounded whatever, probably walked to the wooden spoon, but also extremely proud that their prank worked.

Right.

My mom grew up to be an og murderino who still checks her closets for perfs and pervs on a nightly basis. What the fuck? Yeah, and my uncle joined a biker gang.

That's right.

Everything turned out great for these kids. I love them. Thank you for all you do and encouraging people to speak up, fuck politeness, discuss mental illness, and in general be wonderful. Ps Karen, my my mom's birthday is May twelfth and mine is my tenth. We should meet up for cake.

Hey, a week of cake.

Say sexy and don't tell children to shower at midnight, best, Marissa.

It's fucking weird about parents that are just like, uh he like the kids.

Like Greg like thought of a way to like control them, but not in a way that was like evil, just in a like fuck with you kind of what I say, Yeah, like people like jump from the roof.

No exactly, it was You're gonna be cold and irritated. It's terrified, but no one can really get me in trouble.

Really. Yeah, but I mean they did.

I guess. Yeah, so you know those parents were a little proud.

Well, I mean because it worked.

Yeah.

How many times did you try to like convince neighborhood kids of something? They're all like what shot at?

True?

Yes, never listened to anything. Okay.

Greeting's murder, Mavens and all the furry critters, including Steven's mustache. I've got a secret life hometown that culminates with a deathbed treasure.

Huh. Yes.

When I met my now wife, her father was a trim carpenter living a modest life, but occasional comments hinted at a more storied past. Most puzzling might be the warning that if we were ever in the Bahamas and were asked, we should say we didn't know him. I love that and definitely were not related to him. My curiosity got the better of me, and I did some websleuthing and discovered a newspaper article from the eighties linking him to a retired Major League baseball player who had

Dude took cocaine, beert.

He had never mentioned having a license or knowing how to fly a plane.

Oh my god.

To secretly discover Marty could fucking fly Sessa if you wanted to.

Yeah, actually, my stepdad John has some like cool secrets that you would not know.

Really, I'm not supposed to know that I shouldn't be talking about on this national podcast.

I didn't say what that are.

Here's what I'm gonna guess what. He was a sniper in Vietnam.

He wasn't he was in Vietnam.

Whoops, we're going back to the email.

John. My apologies, none of anybody's business, but thank you for your service.

Okay.

This man's cool points tripled in that moment, and I couldn't wait to hear the story firsthand. Unfortunately, my father in law did not see this as his proudest moment and shut down the conversation immediately. Those the old school guys are they don't want to be You can't be a criminal.

You can't be a bad guy.

You can't have done something in your use that you're in talk about it on a podcast like I do.

Right, But that's thank god that we fucked up as much as we did. We have so much to talk about and zero shame, right, and kind of like I need to get a little attentions here and there. Sadly, he passed away about a year later, and thus begins the deathbed treasure hunt part of the story. He always told my wife, if anything ever happened to me, check my chair.

I fucking love this guy. We always suspected he stashed cash.

Around, and now knowing his past, it made sense why he liked to keep income undocumented.

Shit.

He also had a fear that every time he was ill it was going to be the end, and would write a letter to my wife telling her where to find his stashes. So we had three conflicting treasure maps to work with. Oh, what a joyous gift to give your child. Please give this to me, Yeah when you died. Okay, start planning it now.

Okay, I'm thinking, where do I send her?

Where could I?

We found envelopes of cash taped to the bottom of his dresser, tucked on top of the kitchen cabinets in the lightning of his share, et cetera. The grand total was ten K what I mean, But it wasn't. The most valuable find in the garage was a locked file cabinet.

With no key.

It's like my mouth is watering just around the house. We considered taking it to the dumpster as is, but something told me if it was worth locking, then there had to be something in there worth finding. Please use that kind of deduction in your life. Why would this be happening? Maybe I don't, Maybe I don't just write I don't know what I'm so mad at.

I've seen the instagrammer of the guy who's just spending every day trying to find a diamond.

Yes, I love him, and the shitt he's finding.

Me trying to find a diamond, a kitty cat.

A bead. It's so satisfying, so satisfying, and then you're like nod.

Is the dim and today like yay, because I want you to keep doing it. Yes, it's so cute.

It makes me feel like that guy was a mudlarker. Watched his mudlarking videos. It's like, I'll never get to do that totally, but I'll do it here in this gutter.

I love. It's so good.

There's like a little whatever you use is like a screw driver digging out the cracks in the sidewalk.

All he finds the most random ship. But he's like so calm an ASMR about it. Yeah, I love it. We love that guy.

Diamond today, No diamond today, Day thirty two, searching for a diamond. Okay, we're back in this email. Sorry, and we're really going to focus this time. Okay, wait, it's locked thing, locked file cabinet. Here we go.

God, damn it.

Okay, here it is, So I went to work with a variety of prying and hammering tools.

Success. Among the receipts for every prescription.

He and his wife burns is from nineteen seventy seven to nineteen eighty seven. I mean, that's what a lot of my junk doors look like. Is things I'm afraid to throw away.

I hate it if I need it.

A receipt for a prescription like stuff like that.

When they give you the thing that's all stapled and there's all that information, I'm like, better keep it, okay.

So among those items was.

A folder that told the whole story of his misdeeds during the time he ran a moderately successful typewriter ribbon reinking company. We might they might as well put his name in who else has that company? It's the most specific job of all time, which provided a great cover, oh my god, for all of his travel up and down the East Coast. So a typewriter ribbon reinking company is a cover for drug running.

Sure, I don't know. No one knows how that works, so why wouldn't it.

Yeah, it's so specific.

It's like those independent vacuum cleaner stores on Bourbank Boulevard where you're.

Like, what are you talking about? Six fucking vacuum post COVID.

Yeah, you still got a brick and Mortars.

Was nineteen eighty nine. If you fucking do this.

The good people at Mealy sending you thousands, hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Okay, So.

Typewriter Ribbon Reinking company, providing a great cover for all his travel up and down the East Coast. In reality, he was a legit drug mule running cocaine from Florida to Massachusetts. He kept a newspaper clipping from a trial where he turned state's evidenced and testified to taping bags of cocaine to his body, and then in parentheses it says, you know, like you see in the movies. He hand wrote his fine on the clipping. They got it wrong in the article, so he was arrested and fined.

Oh my god, and he hand wrote. He was like, they're wrong, it's just like I was.

Actually was sixteen thousand. He ended up doing a year in prison. He sent my wife a handmade Christmas card that year that was also in the folder, And then we found the official letter from the Republic of the Bahamas informing him he was no longer welcome in their country ever.

We were just there. Yeah, good things.

Not a podcaster, I know, because it's gorgeous and their podcasting. I really hate that he was embarrassed by this part of his life, as I'm sure he had some wild stories to tell. Yeah, I agree, Yeah, he should have felt free and easy. He got through it.

But if you're a boomer and you're listening and you have some crazy fucking story that you're ashamed of, we are not ashamed of you. Please send it to us.

If this is a time that is very different than pre Internet times where shame and keeping up with the Jones is really controlled most people's lives. Not like that anymore.

We're fine with it.

And also, everybody loves an anti hero.

Yeah, but don't do drugs. I really did it. As for my mother in law, it does explain why they got divorced. We haven't told her that we discovered the big family secret. I picture her as a Skylar White type, enjoying the spoils but not wanting to know how they could afford a corvette, stay sexy and don't let a locked filing cabinet deter your treasure hunt tea.

Oh my god, tea.

Yeah that's so good.

Yeah, a secret life is a cocaine runner is pretty incredible. If your dad has a boring job or mom has a boring job, ask them what they did. Ask them to please finally be honest with you.

Ask them why they never want to go to the bombs anyway?

What do you mean why was that person at TSA giving you that dirty look? Right? What don't mean you can't go to Canada for everybody up there?

Okay, this is called finders keepers. This one's gross. Hello, murder matriarchs and co thanks, blah blah, you know the rest. I have a brother who is three years younger than me, but by the time we were two and five, he easily weighed as much as me and could hold his own in any fight. When he was seven or so, we thought he was partially deaf. My dad thought it was selective hearing, but eventually my mom took him to

I wanted one of those really bad the lights. The little the thing that where they're like, how are you today?

This would hide it from me if I had chase.

It's in there, okay.

When he looks in my brother's right ear, he pauses, keeps the flashlight in the ear, and grabs a pair of long, thin tweezers. This is what hometowns have become, and I'm so happy for it. It's that, and it's this, and that's okay.

Secret parent, drug runners and shoven shit up your nose or ear, sorry wherever.

Then he proceeds to slowly extract a wax covered bead from my brother's ear, A bead. No diamond today?

He pulled down and said, no diamond.

Oh, the diamond was in the ring, but it wasn't. My mom's jaw drops to the floor, and when my brother sees it, he says, oh, I put that in there to hide from Georgia, and it says me, because I didn't want her to use it.

This person's name is Georgia. Yeah, Oh that's crazy.

I know. It had been in there for four fucking years.

And how old was this little brother?

Uh?

Seven? Nope, not deaf, just hiding shit from his siblings using three year old logic, and also who what's a three year old? I'll play with beads another bygone time I would or not allowed to.

They truly liked a man looking for the diamond. That little kid found that thing on the floor, thought it was beautiful and was like mine, stay.

Sexy and check your children's orifices with some regularity, Georgia.

Such a trip to hear an email from Georgia, thank you for finally writing in. That's so hilarious and it The reason I said shove it up your nose is because there's an infamous family story where my mom looked at me one day and I had green shit running out of one nostril. I've told you this one, I think, so I don't remember, and I had to go to the emergency room and they just they pulled out a big piece of foam.

Why do you put phone in there?

It's bored. They used to leave me alone all the time. What am I supposed to do? Not shove shit up my nose?

But it was like that.

She was like, I think she's really sick.

It's like green snock coming in whatever action she goes, he puts tweezers up there and then it's just like is this your child?

Send your email to my favorite murder at Gmail about orifice origin stories.

Okay, above the belt or orifice origin stories.

Thank please, thank you. Family Friendly.

You know that one guy who they like, he was dying and they opened up his body and they found a little tree growing in his lung because he had inhaled a seed. That's just one of those stories I think about when I can't sleep at night.

Yeah, because you're like, what do I got in there? Okay, boogin villa, I forgot about that. It was like a sprout in his lung.

Yeah, so crazy.

He was like couldn't breathe and was like dying and then like drinking farah flu and like you know, like not, actually it's a Christmas tree.

And you're a tree. You've become a tree tree.

Okay.

Subject line of this email quick one. I ran over myself with my own car less than two minute reads beautiful besties that I've never met. When I was sixteen, I eagerly got my license like any other teenage girl. The car I was handed down was a nineteen eighty six Super U gl The car was only a year younger than me, so you can guess the safety features were non existent. I've only had my license for about two weeks when I pulled into my driveway after a

Road a little bit.

I got out of the car and was standing between my car door and the driver's side when the car starts rolling backwards. For some reason, I thought that I could stop the car by simply pushing against the doorframe, but before I knew it, the door knocked me down and one of the tires ran over.

My right leg.

Jesus, uh, I mean you could have died.

Don't drink and drive, It's what I was trying to tell you. The car rolled into the yard and into a tree. My border Collie mixed Cindy just simply looking at me until the car crashed, then decided to bark and alert my parents.

Cindy's a narc. What the hell happened?

You?

Ask?

I forgot to put the car into park, which I still do to this day, but thank goodness for modern safety features. When I showed up to school limping with the gigantic bruise on my leg, I lied and told my friends that something had been wrong. With the car and that park had been stripped out of the gearshift. So if any of my high school friends are murdery knows and remember this happening, I lied to you out

I want to hear the best stories of people who did a really dumb thing and then blamed it on something totally like that had nothing to do.

With it, just covered and lie because it was so embarrassing.

Yeah, and then maybe got caught.

We have family friends who the daughter went to take her driving test and passed, and everyone thought she wasn't going to get She was crazy smart, like became a surgeon, I think, but was very like yeah, not there in everything else in.

The other ways.

So she passed, pulled up in front of her house and was so excited she jumped out of the car to run in to tell her dad, and the car kept going because it was not only not in park, it.

Was just she just got out.

Thank you? Is that is that's it?

I think that's it.

Thanks for listening everyone, If you want to hear more, we have one more bonus story on our fan cult. If you feel like.

It, that's right.

You can join our fancults at my Favorite Murder dot com dot com and then you can have all the secret content that we won't just give it any old person.

This swings by who do you think you are?

Kick God? Damn Uh?

Stay sexy and don't get murdered.

Goodbye, Elvis. Do you want to cookie?

This has been an exactly right production.

Our senior producer is Molly Smith and our associate producer is Tessa Hughes.

Our editor is Aristotle Ascevedo.

This episode was mixed by Leona Squalacci.

Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder at gmail dot com.

Follow the show on Instagram at my Favorite Murder.

Listen to My Favorite Murder on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts.

And now you can watch My Favorite Murder on Netflix.

And when you're there, hit the double thumbs up and the remind me bytons.

That's the best way you can support our show.

Bye h