Hey weirdos, it's Ash here, ready to share a little secret.
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I have been listening to the Martha's Vineyard Beach and Book Club, which actually Elena recommended to me.
She did not listen to it, but she said, girl, this title sounds so you.
And let me tell you, it did. I've been listening to it while I walk and I am absolutely loving it.
I love all the different narrators. I love Audible.
There's more to imagine when you listen.
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I am absolutely obsessed with a sweet treat after dinner.
And my favorite sweet treat right now is my mochi.
It's Mine, not yours. Just kidding. You can have some too.
This is a cool, creamy scoop of ice cream. wrapped in a soft, chewy dough.
It's like a sweet little ice cream dumpling or ravioli.
I'm obsessed. It's pillowy. It's satisfying.
I feel indulged. I just love it so much.
I really am obsessed with the strawberry flavor right now.
My mochi is only around 70 calories per piece, which like, hello, that's amazing.
My mochi is gluten free and each box has six perfectly portioned mochi snacks.
Do I eat two a night? Yeah. Yeah, I do because they're that good.
And guess what? My mochi is the number one mochi ice cream in the US of A.
The strawberry flavor is bursting with fresh picked fruit flavor that tastes incredibly refreshing.
I love, love, love them after dinner this August.
Look for the purple box of My Mochi ice cream at your local grocery store. and feel joyfully chill with the coolest treat around, my mochi.
Hey weirdos, my name happens to be Ash. And you know what?
I'm Elena. oh girl and this is morbid hello a true crime podcast which is also just all kinds of spooky shit
I was gonna say, it's a true crime podcast with some spooky shit, and I don't know why I'm introducing it to you like you've never been here before.
Yeah, guys, I don't know if you know this, but we do a variety of weird shit.
Maybe you've never been here before. You haven't.
This could be your first episode and if it is, I'm... i apologize why do you apologize because this is quite an intro this could be your first episode and it could be the dankest moment of your life life this could be your moment your moment you wish that you have this moment for life And you know what?
This is a great episode to start on because this is an episode that is all about you. brought to you by you for you from you and all about you there you go because it's a listener tales episode Hell yeah, and I got the listener tales, so if you don't like them, please don't tell me because it makes me sensitive.
And I did not look at them yet, so I have nothing to say. to do with this episode so you know what you can tell me Go ahead and tell me if they suck because I didn't have anything to do with it so it won't hurt my feelings.
Alrighty. There it is. All right, let's begin this.
You guys have been sending some great...
Tales. Okay. We have a mailbox full of them.
They're so good. And shout out to the people that attach a put a foot or a dock.
The word doc. Somebody literally, I think, in one of the ones that I picked was like, I also attach to put a pho.
And they wrote it like, And I was like, well, I have to pick that one.
Man, guys. fucking love you. Can I please start actually?
Yes, of course you can. Because I want to start with this one that's called Listener Tale.
Pop, lock, and drop it the fuck up out of the horseshoe lake. bro.
You know what? When I saw that one, I knew that's what you were going to go for.
Okay. Drop it. I used to love that song, but imagine me popping, locking, and dropping.
It does not look right. I will always picture you doing that.
It does not look right. I look very strange.
Forever and always. I will picture that.
Well, this one starts off, hello, you beautiful fucking weirdos.
Hello, right back at you, you beautiful fucking weirdos. one of the old school hearts that's like the less than sign and the three an emoticon or actually would that be the greater than sign No, it would be the last sentence.
An emoticon. Yeah, that. Not an emoji. Yeah, where's Gen Z at?
Do you know what we're saying? Thea Ridge.
Well, it says you can call me Chi-Town for this tale of which is not my own because I do not want to be sued in case I screw the pooch on some of this info I'm filling your brain meat with uh already love as you can see this is why i chose that You already know what's common, girlies.
The praise that usually starts a listener tale.
I fucking love you two so much. Same. I love you.
You make working, cleaning, driving, showering and working out.
Just kidding. I don't work out. I'm trash.
So much spookier and hilarious. Side note, I work at a community college and my office is in the open so everyone can see me.
A sweet lady that I work with saw me laughing my literal ass off and said, shy town, you look so happy.
What are you laughing about? I paused your podcast to tell this sweet woman, oh, I'm just listening to a podcast about this killer BTK.
Ha! This person put a lot of ha-ha-has.
I'm genuinely laughing at the way you two make fun of this bumbling idiot.
And this poor sweet woman smiled meekly at me and slowly walked away as I'm still laughing jovially.
She has not talked to me since. I love you, Chantel.
I love you. Okay, so jump into your time machine, bitches.
We're back in 1996 now. Hell yeah. I, myself, am a fetus.
The year the world got rad because Ash came into it.
Thank you. Well, Chi Town says, I am two years old now and probably doing some TikTok. typical two-year-old shit like chilling in my crib watching a Disney movie. or wobbling around following my big Bubba, AKA brother.
Down in Arkansas, we say Bubba, ye fucking ha.
Oh my God, I love that, my big Bubba. My big Bubba.
Oh, I'm obsessed with that. I call Drew Bubba.
And I said it in front of my uncle the other day, and I thought he was going to have a heart attack.
He was like, why do you call him that? Why?
I was like, because I do. And I call my dog Bubba.
That's true. Everybody's got a Bubba. But they were following him around because, goddammit, he was the coolest fucking thing in the world to me at this time.
Adorable. Anyways, enough about my cute-ass self and my brother who hung the fucking moon.
Oh, my God. That's a great saying. I love that one.
I live in a tiny little town called Hughes AR, which is Arkansas.
I'm not good at the little things. Just took you a second.
20 or so minutes from West Memphis, which you are familiar with.
Hell yeah, we are. Great fucking job, by the way, on the West Memphis 3 case.
Thank you. In between Hughes and West Memphis is a quaint little lake town called Horseshoe Lake.
Though many beautiful vacation homes reside on the lake, The Snowden House.
Please say this in a spooky voice. I hope that was spooky enough.
I should try it again. The Snowden House.
Yes. is by far the most intriguing and notorious.
It's also fucking gorgeous. The Snowden family once owned the Peabody Hotel in Memphis, Tennessee.
So they are cash money fucking millionaires, bro.
I also wonder because we have Peabody, Massachusetts.
I wonder if it's Peabody down there.
I feel like it can't be Peabody. I feel like my brain won't say Peabody.
No, because you get roasted here. It's Peabody.
Peabody. Peabody. Yeah. I would think it's Peabody.
You can let us know. It's Peabody, even if it's not.
Anyways, she put that in the perfect spot.
One morning... In good old 96, a 17-year-old boy named Travis Lewis murdered Sally Snowden and her nephew Lee Baker in the Snowden house.
Travis's mother worked in the Snowden house somehow, so he was familiar with the family.
He pled guilty and was put behind bars. Sweet justice.
Or was it? Some people whisper amongst the small town that he was not the one that did this.
Someone within the family did. Ooh. They claim the color of Travis's skin is the reason he was framed.
Fuck racism. But I don't fucking know. Excuse me.
But I don't fucking know because apparently no one wants to whisper to me about who they really think did it.
Goddamn. And this could all be bullshit anyways.
It's not my business. It's not my business bro.
So we are back in the time machine, my gals.
I don't even know what year I'm taking you to.
I just know... It was an era of MySpace and the song Bedrock was the ringtone on my pink Razer cell phone.
I can make your bed rock. You're welcome.
Sally Snowden's daughter, Martha McKay, had taken over the Snowden house.
One of my best good pals lived near Martha and she would scold the fuck out of us for zooming around on golf carts, blasting pop lock and drop it.
That's so great. Yeah. hold on to your butts because it's about to get twisty and we're in the time machine again Sorry if you're feeling a little carsick, me fucking too.
The year I'm bringing you now to, excuse me, the year I'm bringing you to now is 2020.
I roll because fuck 2020. Yes. I am now 25, married, own a beautiful home on the outskirts of town and my lovely brother whom I adored is now in prison for stabbing a man.
Okay, that took, whoa. They said it was going to take a twist.
What a twisty turn that was. And then they said, great life.
Wow, twisty the clown. is what that was.
That was insane. TBT. This happens in the midst of quarantine.
I've had about four Bloody Marys by 10 a.m. because quarantine is a merciless time where rules have fucked off and time days and weeks are now just one giant mind fuck.
Couldn't have explained it better myself.
Same. I go to take my seven. Yes, seven.
We have now added an eighth. I have a problem.
Beautiful fur babies out And where do you put them all?
As I'm drunk rambling to them about staying away from the road about 50-11 cop cars go racing in the direction of Horseshoe Lake.
What the shit, man? I gather my sweet fur babies up and we go inside the house as I'm making yet another drink.
I am such trash, y'all. I get a little ringy dingy on my phone.
It was my beloved dad. He said, stay in house.
Martha McKay dead looking for killer. That is a text that my dad would send just like that. thought of this because it said through my drunken haze, I thought back to the golf cart days. and suddenly remembered who Martha was.
Oh no. We had tormented this woman with our loud music and shitty driving.
I felt like actual shit. and she was murdered and they're looking for the killer.
I huddled my babies in the room with a pistol in my hand.
Horseshoe is literally a cunt hair away from my house.
I'm never saying, I'm never using another term of measurement other than cunt hair.
I will straight up end someone over my fur babies.
Fuck my life, but hurt one of my doggos and you gonna get dead real quick, brother.
After a few hours of being barricaded in the bedroom with the vodka, V8 juice and my pups, I finally received a text from my dad.
I will not text it such as he did because it was very hard to decipher.
Dads and technology is so cute. Yes. That's what I love when my dad texts.
Papa will literally just text like the randomest shit.
He'll just text one word that might not be spelled correctly.
And he's like, why didn't you understand that?
And it's always just like very vague and you have to call him afterwards.
Yeah, you've got to decipher it. Anyways, back to the story.
What had happened was Travis had been paroled from jail.
He was working for Martha in the Snowden house since he had been paroled.
So he murdered someone there, or allegedly, and then went back to work there after he got paroled.
Huh. Well, he ended up brutally murdering her 24 years after killing her mother and cousin.
He was still in the house when the cops arrived.
The same ones that ruined my fucking buzz.
And he jumped into his truck. Yeah. And he jumped into his truck and drove into the yard and got stuck.
He then jumped out of the truck and ran to the lake and drowned himself.
In the same link, I once got thrown off an inner tube.
So hard, I saw the light and Jesus said to me, not now child, it's not your time.
It was a big deal around this small town.
Not now, my child. It's not your time. I saw the light and Jesus said to me...
I'm screaming. Oh, shy town. Thank you. You know those photos sitting in your phone, the ones that make you smile every time you scroll past them?
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It was a big deal around this small town.
I soon learned that Martha was an advocate for Travis and wanted him out of jail.
Oh, maybe she knew the whispers around town that I still have yet to know about and thought him innocent as well.
I know this sounds shitty because I woman... A woman.
Oh yeah, I know this sounds shitty because a woman lost her life, RIP Martha, but I was terrified she was going to come back and haunt my ass for terrorizing her when I was an idiot preteen.
That's a valid concern. Please don't ruin Pop Lock and Drop It for me, Martha.
I am sorry and rest in love. Also, R.I.P.
Huey, who is the genius behind Pop Lock and Drop it this is so chaotic I love it so much They have now torn down the Snowden house and plan on building something else on the property.
I hope those bozos know some of the Snowden family is buried in the actual backyard of the property so they'll death get haunted by them and fucking good and thus my tale which is not my tale has ended You can look up Martha McKay on Google and find out more info.
There might even be some spookies about the Snowden house and how haunted it was on the web as well.
Thank you. Horseshoe Lake. Don't do that.
P.S. Terry Hobbs is guilty. Kurt Cobain didn't kill himself.
And my brother is in prison for stabbing a man who he found out was messing with his wife, which is not okay.
But not worth a stab to the arm. But the guy lived, so my bubba is still kind of good, I guess.
Thanks. Love ya. Bye. Shy town. Fucking killed it.
Fucking killed it. Shy. Down. Pop, lock it, drop it.
Also, did Huey die? Because I didn't know that.
I feel like I want to give you something, Chi-Town.
You're just wonderful with those. That was literally my favorite thing ever.
I feel like I want to give you something.
I just want to buy you something. I want to send her a shirt.
I really want to. Shy, tell me. Shy, if you see this, message the account.
Yeah, if you hear this, message the account with the shirt that you would like and your size. hell yeah i want to send it to you because that was i'm gonna send them an email right now that was beautifully written shy town I'm literally writing Chi-town.
Actually, I'll do it after because I don't want you to hear me typing. all right we're back after we just took a second to calm ourselves down because that was So the one that I am going to do is called The Lion, the Hockey Player, and a Halloween Slayer, a Midwestern Murder Mystery. nailed it with that title yeah i love it it drew me in immediately i am hooked it was like the lion the lion the witch and the wardrobe except different Yeah, it really, except different.
It hit different. Hello, Ash and Alina, and hello, my fellow weirdos.
Hello. My name is redacted, but for privacy...
But for privacy purposes, you can call me Liz.
Also, we're laughing because it does not say redacted. elena was just like redacted redacted the way you said that if there's anything That having a dad and several family friends in forensics.
Hey, Ash. Ooh, that's really cool. and crime scene things has taught me always be stingy with personal information and don't trust anyone.
He says hi. Hi, boyfriend. I listen in the car, doing chores around my shitty little college apartment, and whilst doing my makeup and winging my eyeliner up to the high heaven. as one does hell yeah motherfucker i always feel like i'm shooting the shit with my gal pals i freaking love when people i love that too because that's what we we want it to feel like.
Especially over winter break where the passage of time is an enigma and I have absolutely no effing clue what day of the week it is 95% of the time.
I love having y'all there while I cook my HelloFresh meals.
Yeah. With my boyfriend. Shout out HelloFresh.
Not an ad. Interphone morbid for 20% and apply for post-grad jobs.
Ugly cry. You're going to get it. You got this.
We laugh with you and share our what the fucks, can you imagines, and of course, as one does.
Oh my god, I love this. Amazing. I would literally poop my pants if you read this on air.
I hope you're wearing a diaper. Oh my god, bitch, I was literally gonna wait for you to finish and say the same thing.
I love that we are one. I hope you're wearing a Depends.
There you go. So in the off chance that you do, hi, mom.
I love you. Aw, hi, your mom. Hi, Liz's mom.
The case I'm about to share has been on Dateline on NBC, and it is so wild to me that a brutal A murder this brutal occurred in my boring Midwestern town.
Anyway, I will get on with my listener tale and also apologize for the overload of parenthetical remarks and wordiness.
I wanted to be thorough because I'm aggressively typically type A.
Same. That's why Elena's reading this. Hell yes, I felt a connection.
So please edit as necessary. Won't do it.
Let me paint you a picture of the setting of this brutal murder that happened on October 27th.
Halloween weekend 2007 in my hometown of Grand Forks, North Dakota.
Side note, this is the sister city of East Grand Forks, Minnesota, where Karl Panzram was born.
I almost choked on my coffee in surprise when I listened to that episode, and for that and a few other reasons.
While I've been in college out of state and told many people that I am from North Dakota, I often hear them follow up with, What even is there to do in North Dakota?
The answer is short. Drink and watch hockey.
Hell yeah. While you could say that drinking is widely popular in general, I reply with this fun fact.
North Dakota has more bars per capita than any other state in the nation.
I did not know that. That's wild. The US Census Bureau recorded one bar for every 1,620 North Dakotans.
In 2011, if numbers help you put things into perspective.
They do. Additionally, we have a college hockey team that spits out NHL players with the same intensity Mike Keurig spits out the last bit of coffee every morning I know exactly what they mean by that yes In other words, we're pretty damn good and have a large drunken fan base.
It is important that you know bar hopping slash partying and hockey go hand in hand and it is like a religion in Grand Forks because our case takes place at a bar also that is why it is popular to dress as a hockey player for Halloween that makes sense so in my little population 57,000 town, we drink and win hockey games, right?
Apparently we murder people too. A murder this brutal is sort of out of character, for a North Dakota town where everyone knows you, your family, where you work, what car you drive, etc.
If you grew up in a small town, you get it.
I get it. The fact that this remains a cold case over a decade later is just incredibly bizarre, as my dad would say.
I love that you gave her dad an English accent.
I was just going to say a Boston accent.
And then I said my dad. Stroke salt and pepper beard.
Hell yeah. Papa would too. He would. Our story takes place at a bar called The Drunken Drum.
It might sound cutesy cozy, but see the attack or the nope, the broken drum.
I literally was like, nope. And then you just kept going and I was like, still nope.
Sounds better to say the drunken drum. I like the drunken drum.
It's a bar called The Broken Drum. I just read a totally different word.
It might sound cutesy cozy but see the attached picture and you'll realize it is not a place you would take your nana your grandpa maybe Why does that apply so heavily to my life?
It really does. It is grimy, humid, run down and cheap. a drunken Halloween bar hopper's oasis.
On the night of October 27th, 2007, 38-year-old Joel Loveline, thank you for that pronunciation. took his fiancee, whose name I will not mention out of respect for her loss, thank you, to a Halloween party at the Broken Drum.
The broken drum and its occupants were buzzing.
It was going to be a fun night, and the next day...
Loveline was to attend his daughter's confirmation, my heart equal shattered.
Loveline was dressed as a North Dakota hockey player and his fiance was a cute mechanic.
That's adorable. I love that. Blackjack was played, cigars were puffed, and drinking ensued until Loveline stepped outside to take a call around 1130 p.m.
He promptly returned to his fiancée inside.
However, a party bus was waiting outside to transfer 40 to 50 riders to the next bar, and Loveline noticed someone who looked lost and possibly got left behind.
He explained to his fiancée that he was going to come back out to check on them and kissed her before returning outside.
Moments later, a woman burst into the bar, screaming to call 911.
Joel's fiance grabbed a bouncer to help her find Joel and to figure out what the hell was going on outside.
The bouncer and the fiancé discovered a body outside, bloody and beaten, and quickly ID'd it as Lovelene.
Loveling was rushed to the hospital, the very same hospital he worked as a computer technician, but died as a result of his wounds.
Trigger warning, gore. According to doctors, Loveline's face was so badly beaten that the cause of death was aspiration on his own blood.
That is so... wow insane like that's so brutal that's so brutal Police arrived on the crime scene and were met with an utter chaos scene.
Also think about the non-existent crime scene preservation at a greasy bar.
About 80 people remained at the broken drum, and most of them were very drunk and confused, wondering what the fresh hell was going on.
Witnesses and possible suspects were dressed up in costume as they continued to party that night, further complicating the investigation.
Police struggled to get statements from cognitively impaired bar patrons and grappled a piece grappled to piece together a narrative of the events preceding the murder.
Police tried to track down the departed party bus and its occupants, who had continued their tour to the next bar on a downtown street.
For context, most bars that were the stops on the buses tour are concentrated in a busy two or three block square. downtown, so finding the party bus was pretty easy, but tracking down its occupants in that area was basically where's Waldo, with drunk assholes.
The Broken Drum is a little over a mile away from the downtown area where the most popular bars are located.
Identities of those in question were unknown, and it was almost like police were perusing a lineup or pursuing a lineup of bad comic book characters.
A hostile cowboy who refused to give up his real name and birth date.
Totally not suspicious. a crying clown, a construction worker, an angry hunter, a gangster rapper.
Gangsta. Cringes in 2007. And a lion in a yellow hoodie.
That's, I like just thinking about that, that they're all just standing in a line.
Seriously. We need to question. Also, you're a really good writer.
The way this is written, as I was like reading it, I was like, oh yeah.
Yeah. The crying clown lawyered up and told police he was crying because him and his girlfriend had a fight.
The cowboy came back down to police headquarters the next day, sober and cooperative.
The cowboy and the clown told a story that police felt exonerated both of them at the previous night's events, as well as no other suspects on that bus.
Party goers told police that two bus passengers had gotten into a fight outside the bar, the hunter and the lion.
It's weird. The fact that the hunter and the lion got in a fight.
Seriously. The lion was like, we are an endangered species.
After the fight They told the lion he couldn't get back on the bus.
Totally understandable. A drunken bar on the crowd.
Wow. drunken brawl on a crowded bus would be pretty dangerous.
Before the bus pulled away from the bar, the lion in the yellow hoodie was seen speaking to a guy in a green hockey jersey.
Dun dun dun. The lion who, you know, now that I'm reading this, I know this story.
Oh, do you? Yeah. I'd never heard of it.
The lion who identified as 23 year old Travis Stay was a pointed as a top suspect in the Grizzly murder as partygoers mentioned to police that he had been belligerent early in the evening.
Oh, and his clothes were completely spattered with blood.
Stay told detectives that he threw it in the garbage, definitely not as one does.
Detective Dwayne Simon asked Travis Stays the question we are all thinking about, why did you throw it away? and stay answered because it was so full of blood.
In an interview with NBC News, Stay told reporters that he let police recover his costume and and gave them his shoes so nice of him which had blood all over.
This was all done without a search warrant or lawyer present because he was innocent, quote unquote.
Stay said that he was so drunk that he did not remember anything that happened that night, but he knew he hadn't hurt anyone.
A yellow costume foot or paw with blood on it was tested and found the match to Lovelene's DNA.
While nobody had seen Stay punch Loveling, bus riders said that they had seen the fight between Stay and the Hunter. and yet another man admitted that Stay had thrown a punch at him later that night following Loveline's death.
So this dude murdered someone by beating them to death.
And then continued to party. And then kept fighting and repartying.
What the fuck? What a fucking asshole. You know what's even more stressful than a packed calendar?
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The sale ends 831. Don't miss it. A trial ensued and prosecutors painted a picture of Stay as a bruised and angry loser of a fistfight. who later attacked the Good Samaritan who had come to his aid.
Witnesses on the stand testified that they had seen Loveline... quote, talking to the guy in yellow.
Most importantly, the paw left at the crime scene.
This is like... Literally, the paw left at the crime scene.
I know, it's truly something. The paw left behind at the crime scene did not match any other costume.
A taxi driver who picked up Travis Day at 1 a.m. that night by a cemetery a half mile away from the broken drum testified that quote, I looked up at his face and he had a blood-covered hairline to the neck. and covering the whole front of his face, kind of like it was a mask.
So his face was literally just covered in blood.
Covered in blood. The cabbie said that he asked Stay a few times where he wanted to go. and it wasn't until the third or fourth time that he got a response it was like quote it was like he was focusing on something else he had something on his mind He was, like, staring out into space.
Stay's costume lion paw dangled and the other one was missing.
So the cabbie had nervously joked, tough night too?
No response. Stay was also unaware of the cut on his face that was oozing blood until the cabbie mentioned it.
It wasn't until he flipped down the mirror and saw his own face that Stay snapped back to reality.
Despite this testimony, jurors saw holes in the case.
Loveling was 6'3 and 240 pounds described by his family and friends as quote a gentle giant Always ruins me.
That kills me. And would have towered six inches overstay.
Not to mention the 80 pound weight difference.
The defense provided a report from a blood spatter expert who said there were many ways Loveline's blood could have ended up on stay, possibly... from Stay coming to Loveline's aid after the attack.
An ER doctor said that the cuts on Stay's hands were not severe enough to had come from a from giving a deadly beating.
The defense turned to a Wild West-esque shitshow, of pointing fingers and shifting blame, and unfortunately they succeeded in redirecting suspicions.
Quote, I think that they, quote, or someone else beat us both up, said Stay.
Police turned to the timeline of the night's events and security footage from the broken drum video footage revealed that three and a half minutes after Loveline left the bar for the last time, the clown can be seen leaving the bar.
That would mean the party bus hadn't departed yet, because everyone agreed that the clown left the broken drum on the bus.
If the bus was still outside, Loveleen, Stay, and some of the costume partiers from the bus could have been together in the parking lot. for at least three and a half minutes.
The defense claimed that a gang of people from the party bus had beaten both Loveline and Stay.
Thank you. This is wild. Isn't it? Authorities struggled to accept that the prime suspect was acquitted after a nine-day trial and could not be tried again.
Mike Scholz still believes that Stay is guilty, stating to NBC that quote, There's not one stitch of physical evidence to suggest anyone else was involved.
The case is considered closed and prosecutors allowed evidence to be destroyed.
Why should evidence ever be destroyed? I don't understand that.
Joel was described by friends and family as a gentle giant and a family man.
He was born in Bismarck, North Dakota, to his loving parents.
As described by those who knew him, he was a sensitive and humorous child.
His family moved to Bagley, Minnesota, where he attended high school.
After Joel moved to Grand Forks, North Dakota to attend the University of North Dakota, He graduated with a degree in math and computer science and worked as a computer technician at the hospital nearby.
He married and had a daughter. who he loved and adored.
Later, Loveline and his wife divorced. The two still remained very amicable. which says so much about the man Loveline was and co-parented their daughter.
Loveline's ex-wife and fiance were friendly to one another, and even following his death, they found comfort in one another and in Loveline's daughter. that entire paragraph just had me like buzzing like in a sad way No one really talks about what happened anymore.
And the broken drum is still open. That's crazy.
Although I am of drinking age, I've never been there, nor do I plan to. about this case every time I drove by the broken drum and it reminded me to always say I love you to those who I care about. and that the criminal justice system needs to do better.
I hope my analysis did this case justice and wasn't too long.
And as always, I hope you keep it weird.
But not so weird that, take it away, Ash.
I feel like I can't even for this one. I know, this is a hard one.
I'm too sad. Not so weird that you dress in costumes and... beat someone to death.
Yeah, not to worry that you ruin Halloween by murdering a guy.
Ugh. So, PS, if you want to hear a story about a guardian angel telling me in a dream that something bad was going to happen, an anxiety attack, a voice on the radio speaking to me during an Uber drive to remember, and trip to urgent care, creepy dream premonition, let me know.
Everyone else thinks I'm off my rocker. I am and have been for quite some time, but still.
Let me know. We're off our rockers. I want to hear all of that.
I want to send all of that in. wow redacted that was an amazing amazing wow redacted amazing tale It really was.
And I definitely have heard that case before.
That's a case I feel like I wanted to cover at one point.
It's a crazy case. Yeah. Dang. My next one is called...
A murderer in my parents' wedding, parentheses, yeet.
Wow. And let me make sure I can say this person's name, Lizzie.
They sent this email twice and added yeet the second time.
So I was like, I have to pick this. I love you.
And it's amazing. I love that yeet. Yeet.
All right. Hi, weirdos. My name is Lizzie.
Feel free to use my name. And I am a new weirdo who just started.
See, I knew it. I actually did know it, but I forgot in the beginning of this.
You forgot. It's cool. And I am a new weirdo who just started listening at the beginning of the Pandemi Lovato.
I've never heard that one and I love it.
That's amazing. Thanks to my wonderful big sister Jess.
I want to thank you guys for being so awesome and a source of entertainment and good feels.
I mean, you know, minus the murders. while being cooped up inside forever.
This story is kind of a long one because I felt the need to include all the details I could find, but I hope you enjoy.
So this is about an old friend of my dad's named Anthony.
And as you can guess from the title, yes, he was in my parents' wedding.
Just for a little context on this man's, around 1986...
I love that around 1986, dude stole over $100,000 from his job. and used part of it to have a bromantic Bahamas trip with his accomplice.
But then they came home and turned themselves in.
All they had to do, though, was pay back what they had spent and were placed on two years probation.
Can you imagine that's all you get for stealing $100,000 from your job?
Just two years probation. $100,000. But a few months later, Anthony was arrested again for drunk driving and sentenced to serve 48 hours to 12 months in parentheses, what?
In a rehab facility. And to that, Anthony said in true Amy Winehouse fashion, no, no, no. fun story about that.
And again, ran from his problems to another state where he met a young woman that he would then go on to have a two-year relationship with.
I'm sure you can already suspect how this relationship ended though, so buckle up.
Click. All right, so we already know that Anthony is a real stand-up guy, but even good guys make mistakes, right?
Sure. You know, mistakes like, quote unquote, accidentally stabbing your girlfriend in the chest during an argument. that's a big mistake and obviously after you make a mistake you have to fix it so you clean up all the blood buy a 33 gallon plastic garbage can Throw your dead girlfriend's body inside, drive across state lines, punch holes in said can, and then dump it into Lake Michigan.
You also try to cover your mistake by calling your dead girlfriend's mom more than 15 times, pretending to be concerned. because she supposedly packed and left after they had an argument about flirting with other men.
Just a tiny mistake, right? Oops. Nope.
It's a lot bigger than that. Oopsie. Dude was an That is horrific.
It's so sad. He eventually confessed to his quote unquote mistake.
And while the prosecution pushed for the maximum possible sentence of 40 years, he was given 20.
20 years for murdering somebody and placing them in a fricking can and throwing them in the water.
Okay. All that preparation, like punching holes in the can.
And then calling her mom and pretending that you're concerned.
Wow. You should add on extra time for that.
Wow. However, he was released on pillow, on parole.
I hate when they get released on pillow.
However, he was released on parole just after 10 years.
But I mean is anyone really surprised that another white man in the 80s only got a slap on the wrist for murdering his girlfriend?
Unfortunately no. I digress. Outraged, but not surprised.
Seriously, it's fucking ridiculous. While I wish he was caught doing something else really stupid and sent to rotten prison, he's actually an example of an effective rehabilitation, and has not gotten into trouble since, at least publicly.
I mean, Karma still is a bitch though, as she should be, so don't worry.
In the early 2000s, Anthony's plan to open a badass coffee company franchise was publicized, along with his little mistake in the 80s.
Oh, that little thing that's going to follow you forever.
Yeah, and that's in quotations, by the way.
Like she's very much making fun of him. And he was quoted as saying, quote, I'm not proud of what I did.
I live every day with what happened. I don't know what more I could do.
I did my time and I'm one of the few people who didn't go back.
It was stupidity and I don't know what else to say.
I love that I live with it every day. It's like, yeah, she doesn't.
Yeah, you live. She doesn't. Right. You don't know what else to say.
You should come up with something. Yeah.
And then they write, cool story, bro, but you actually didn't serve your time and you're still a waste of skin.
Yup. Less than a week after this was published, it was reported that an official from the coffee company said, It was mutually agreed upon with Anthony to terminate plans for the store.
You don't say. And then this person says, I refuse to believe this was a mutual agreement though because the official then went on to say, If someone else were to come in and wants to open a store, we would support them.
So yeah, that's the story of my dad's groomsman turned murderer.
Keep it weird, guys. Much love, Lizzie. That is wild.
Can you imagine looking back on your wedding photos and just being like, yep, no way, Jose.
That's that. Like, wow. That's like the wedding video that they have of, I think it's Dirty John, where they show it and you're like, what the fuck? fuck and you're just like oh so weird uh so let's see i think i'm going to pick Listener tale, like literally the sloppiest premeditated murder y'all have ever seen, plus Facebook behind bars, a love story?
Love it. Cause that sounds great. A love story, a love story, question mark.
Hi, Elena and Ash. My name is Danielle. You can use it.
Thank you, Danielle. You're not redacted.
And I love you guys. I love you. And if you read this, shout out to my sister Tatiana and my co-worker Amanda, both lovely ladies I got. hooked on you guys's show hey thanks thanks hi tatiana and amanda hey I am obsessed with you guys and got caught up with your show in like six months after I discovered you guys.
I love the listener tales, but never thought anything true crimey or cool happened to me or around me. except for the body found near my house, which the police found right after I really got into true crime stuff, so I felt like I manifested that shit, you know?
Yikes, don't manifest that. I also feel that way.
But anyway, one day Facebook, that ancient beast... suggested a friend for me and I wish I could say my reaction was to shit myself but honestly I was more just like, uh, what?
But it reminded me, I have a story I could share with you guys that maybe you would like to read.
But honestly, there are some pretty sloppy criminals.
And murderers out there, but dang, these guys did not plan their crap out as the... It's not what that says.
But these guys did not plan their crap out that well.
There you go. You know that person in your life who just can't stand mayo?
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So I went to school with this kid. Going to leave names out, but I will share the articles with you guys if you are curious.
Thank you. from seventh grade up until my sophomore year of high school when all this stuff went down.
I wasn't close with this guy because he had a lot of anger issues and he would frequently have outbursts and get in trouble. in seventh and eighth grade, from what I remember.
I lost my place. And there was a rumor he sold pot in eighth grade or he had pot. but my naive little self could not even fathom this at 13 years old.
I thought we were all way too young for that and people were just lying to sound cool.
At our elementary school, which was K through eight, I know a lot of places have a separate junior high, but we didn't.
So I still refer to my junior high years as elementary school. well that's wild it was rare it was fairly small and we didn't have the same homerooms but i knew him well enough to have a few conversations with with him.
Once we went to high school, everything was much larger and I was on the honors track and never really saw him, but I heard of shenanigans from mutual friends and whatnot. not sophomore year we start to hear that this kid killed his dad like What?
No way. That's not real. But then he was arrested and charged with murder of his dad.
Then all the rumors as to why. First, it was self-defense.
His dad was high and he tried to kill him first.
Then him and his friend killed his dad to try to steal his dad's meds.
Then him and his friend killed his dad for his mom as a plan to get his life insurance money.
And hot damn, if this isn't like hot, juicy goss for a bunch of 16 year olds. but like only for two weeks until someone's nudes were shared around, which happened a lot in high school, which looking back is extremely disturbing.
I am happy to have flown so far under the radar, no one remembers me from high school.
Same. But anyways, since we were young and investigations take forever and trials and all that go on for a long time.
We basically moved on and forgot about it.
A few years later, I did look it up to see what actually did happen.
I'm glad you did that. Me too. The kid's mom had asked two of the kid's high school friends to take out her husband. the kid's dad, since he was abusing the family.
This is alleged, but he was facing assault charges when he died, I guess, but I don't know the details.
She gave the two teens a gun and told them to shoot him in a park and scatter pills to make it look like a drug deal gone bad.
One of the friends bailed on the plan. The friend that committed to the plan decided he didn't want to He didn't want to use the gun he was given, but a baseball bat.
I'm like, where did he make that decision?
Whoa. Like this kid was clearly going through something.
That's taking it into a very disturbing place.
He hit the man in the head with the bat while he was in bed sleeping.
What? That didn't work because he got up and was walking around later, so the friend hit him again with the bat.
That's when the kid stabbed his own dad.
Wow. When did he become a part of the plan?
Don't ask me. I have no clue. Anyway, the kid stabbed him three times and then the kid, the friend ended up slitting the man's throat.
Isn't that so intense? They moved him to the garage and then when the mom came back from quote, establishing her alibi, She called 911.
It all later came out she had planned it all and the quote-unquote mastermind for all this.
I typed out quote unquote this time because I figured every other time I quoted something you would just read it with emphasis or sarcasm as you saw fit, but in that moment I felt I needed it stated so yeah that was pretty cray and super sloppy and like I'm pretty sure it really only took them like two days to arrest everyone involved. or something like that I said in my title, this was like literally the sloppiest premeditated murder y'all have ever seen.
The kid is serving 22 years in prison. The friend is serving 16 years.
The friend who dipped on the plan but knew about it I think got one year.
The mom is serving life. What reminded me about this case is one day Facebook suggested I add this kid as a friend.
He had a new profile. And I'm like, okay, so when do prisoners, especially convicted murderers, get Facebook privileges?
And there are recent photos of him too. Prison tats and orange suit and all.
So I'm hella confused. And I have mutual friends with him.
That was my favorite part. Like, what friends of mine added him?
And... He has a fiance that he met while he was incarcerated.
I don't understand these things. So apparently Facebook is keeping people in touch even behind bars, peeps, and potentially helping those locked up find a different kind of ball and chain.
I found that hilarious I did too found that hilarious when i typed it so please laugh or expel air more forcibly through your nose than usual for my sake I can't do it when I'm not intending to with the nose thing.
That's amazing. If you really... If you read this, thanks for reading, guys.
Love you so much. XOXO and hope you keep it weird.
But not so weird that you plan to kill your dad and do it in a way that is not as planned and super messy and like obvious to everyone that you planned it and you did it and then somehow got Facebook and it fiance from inside prison but yay for love yeah i loved how it ended yay for love that's amazing it's so good guys you are so funny i love this Like, damn.
I just want to hang out with everybody and just you guys can make me laugh all the time.
Hell yeah. Let's do that soon. My next one is called Gun Town Cemetery.
And I got to shout this guy Zach out because look at this.
Are you seeing this? Whoa, I am. He wrote a puttafa.
He's the one that said puttafa. Wrote a puttafa.
And included, like, pictures like you would for like a school project yes correct I was trying to figure out how to word that and you did it for me So let's get it.
Wow. Hey guys, my name is Zach and I found your podcast about two months ago.
I'm a truck driver. I love our truck driver listeners.
I love our truck driver listeners. You guys are the shit. rock and you're nothing like Ben Rhodes you are amazing and girls obviously everybody And listening to your show makes the day go by so quick.
Who would have thought you can combine lightheartedness and murder together?
Not us. It's a great show. But anyway, my story I would like to share is that of Gun Town Cemetery.
I'm excited. Guntown is one of Connecticut's oldest cemeteries.
It's located in the Nagata? Nagata. Thank you.
He literally gave me pronunciation for that.
And I was like, no, I just like can't say it.
It's not easy. I did it. And it was established in 1790.
So it's old as fuck. It's on the plot of land that the guns had owned and operated a sawmill back in the colonial times of settling.
One of the original guns was Jasper. Of course he was.
I love that. He was a Scotsman who came to the States, our brother. and pretty much settled the majority of Connecticut towns.
Guntown Cemetery is said to be haunted, and boy, do I have a story. and pictures to back up those claims i am here for it also you're a great photographer A couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to go see what all the hubbub was about.
So I gathered hubbub. So I gathered some of my friends and off we went.
In my spare time, a hobby if you will, I'm a photographer.
So I brought my camera ready to catch some ghosties.
Okay, here we go. As soon as we got there, I was hyped and we all walked through the gates and split up to see the whole place.
There's local legends of spirit dogs and music playing and vanishing boys, so of course we wanted to see any of that.
Hell yeah. And also when you said split up as soon as I got in, I thought it said spit up.
So we all spit up right when we got there.
We didn't even throw up. We spit up like a newborn.
We were so stressed. We just spit up. I pulled out my camera and started snapping photos.
This is the first photo I took. Some old ass headstones here.
That is an old ass headstone. That's also a great photo.
But that's a really cool picture. After I took this photo, one of my friends said it started to feel like there was more people here, not just us.
I definitely began to feel that too. I walked a little bit more and almost stepped on a gravestone.
You'll see why in the next picture. 1841 damn so this person was buried but it's like one of those tombstones that's like on the ground literally like in the ground yeah Some of the people buried here actually fought in the Revolutionary War.
Wow. That's crazy. As I was standing over this gravestone, I swear I felt someone tap my shoulder.
I turned around and saw Mr. Gunn's grave.
So of course I had to get a picture. Also, that's the coolest fucking picture ever.
I need to go to this cemetery. Yeah, I want to go and we could go.
We could go. After I had a moment with Mr. Gunn, I walked over to the other side.
This is where the children are laid to rest.
Most of them here died of sickness, but one of the children here is said to have been the victim of a murder suicide. and that's the child that's seen running the perimeter of the walls.
When he's seen, he stops running, turns towards you, and vanishes damn this could be folklore but if it is real i didn't want to take any pictures of his grave I've had encounters with demons before.
Another story I can share later. Please do.
Please. And acknowledging its presence is the last thing I wanted to do.
Smart. Yes. Here for that. After that, I felt the strong need to take a photo of this grave.
Don't know why, but something told me to, so I did.
Right after I took this photo, one of my friends John waves me over to where he is.
He told me that while he was reading a headstone, out of the corner of his eye he saw a ghost lady walk across the cemetery.
Right after he told me this, I went to the corner of the cemetery and grabbed this photo.
At first glance, it doesn't seem like anything out of the ordinary.
But if you look just below and to the left of the center, you, yup.
You can make out what looks to be a woman standing behind or in front of her grave.
My goosebumps have goosebumps. If you if you zoom like crazy into that, too, it almost looks like she has like the like hairstyle. yes in the in the high neck yeah oh wow it's really fucking spooky wow just gave me goosebumps we're definitely gonna post this I also attached all the photos in this puttapha along with the email.
After this picture was taken, we were all overcome with this sense of sadness.
At the time, I didn't see her in the image.
It wasn't until I got home and took them off my SD card that I saw her.
This is getting pretty lengthy now so I'll end it here.
If you guys do end up reading this on the show feel free to use my names and my friends.
Good. I'm glad I did. Also one thing I'd like to share before ending this.
I live in Connecticut, Waterbury specifically.
Born and raised, and a while back, a man by the name of William Billy Smolinski vanished. completely gone no trace at all his family has been looking for him since no body or any information has been brought forward yet If you guys could cover this in an episode, it's a very interesting story.
I'm on it. that's it keep it weird sincerely zach zach Also the pictures that you got are so fucking cool.
You are a great photographer. I'm gonna post those and we'll... what oh my god we definitely have to post those so everybody can see it because that's wild especially the ghost one That is truly wild.
I'm shook. I am. Wow. Okay. So thank you for that, Zach.
That was amazing. My next one that I will read is a librarian's listener tale.
Yeah. Which I love. We love a librarian.
This one's really good, too. This one's entitled Ghosts Need to Lay Off My Shit. a librarian's listener tale.
This one is so good. Hey, you fucking weirdos.
My name is Brian. You can use my real name.
Thank you, Brian. Thanks. And I've been mulling over submitting a listener tale for three months now.
I've been shamelessly obsessed with your podcast since August.
Thank you so much. No shame in that. Thank you all. which is when I just so discovered y'all by happenstance.
Either way, I suppose... I extremely look forward to listening, especially when I can't sleep and it's late at night, which seems to be happening more often than not recently.
Fucking COVID. And life not seeming real anymore.
I feel that. I absolutely love it. Love Ash's voice and how when she says exactly, she actually pronounces the fucking T before the L-Y.
Do you notice she does this? I never did before this podcast, but I'm glad you love it because some people do not. a lot of people do not don't understand that but i don't really get but thank you for loving it And how Elena consistently wants to set people on fire for their sins and acts of douchebaggery.
He gets us. Also, now whenever I say I love that, I actually think of both of you and I smile.
Oh, I love that. I know. I didn't even mean to do that.
So thank you both for being you. Thank you for being you.
Also attaching this as a word doc and put a foot because I'm a librarian.
That's what I do. Okay, there's seriously a million things I can write about here. the story about how I saw my deceased grandmother sitting in the living room wearing one of her Sunday hats one morning when I was nine. or the one about how my father received a phone call when he was a teen from his godmother months after she had passed away,
Shit, how about the one where my parents bowled in a league with the infamous Buffalo, New York bike path rapist, Altamio Sanchez.
Holy shit. The town of Agde in France is famous for sun, sand, sea and sex.
But lately, life on the coast has taken a strange turn.
The town's mayor, a respected pillar of the community, has been arrested for corruption.
His wife claims he's been bewitched by a beautiful clairvoyant.
Then there's the mysterious phone calls that local people have been getting.
I am the Archangel Michael. The whole town has been thrown into chaos.
As the mayor is unable to carry out his duties, I would like to address you all.
Legal proceedings have been initiated. Join me, Anna Richardson, and journalist Leo Schick for The Mystic and the Mayor as we investigate a story of power, corruption, Binge all episodes of The Mystic and the Mare exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.
Start your free trial in Apple Podcasts Spotify or the Wondery app Turns out he was a killer bowler.
All jokes aside, that dude is a serious turd burger.
And if you haven't read into them and the bullshit that ensued with the Buffalo police and their crappy investigation that put an innocent man in prison for decades, You really should.
Anyways, I digress. This turned into like listener tales and case suggestions and I'm so grateful. giving us a mountain here, and I can't wait.
While digging through my mind, I decided to combine some of the spooky ass shit that's happened to me.
Maybe it's all related. Who the hell knows?
I suppose that it's important to start from the beginning of when weird shit started happening in my life. apologies for the length so if you decide to cut parts out which you probably won't do I completely understand.
I already mentioned the grandmother thing when I was a wee lad.
At nine, I convinced myself that I was just seeing things or dreamed it up.
I didn't tell my parents because I was already a super neurotic asshat and I tested their patience. on the daily.
They wouldn't have believed me anyways, so I tabled it.
As I As I grew older, my father started to go to classes in a neighboring town with two mediums who lived in Lilydale, New York.
I'm sure you're familiar with Lilydale being the spiritualistic capital of the eastern seaboard.
I don't know how my dad was drawn to it, but my mom encouraged him to go, so he did his thing.
He learned how to meditate and open up his mind to accept whoever wanted to talk.
That's cool. That's cool, but I don't know if I would want to open my mind to whoever wanted to talk.
But like, what a cool dad. Yeah, you have a cool ass dad.
I also had never heard of Lilydale. Yeah, I've heard of Lilydale, but that's, I didn't know that it was like this cool. let's go to this day my dad will often walk into a room and say something like okay there's someone in here Wow.
Methinks he constantly sees and hears shit and refrains from telling anyone.
Maybe not to alarm the rest of the family, but to be honest, we're all in tune as well.
Shit, a family of empaths. It's a blessing and a curse.
For the record, my dad has a huge handlebar mustache.
I literally pictured him with a handlebar mustache.
Did you? I am not kidding you. Why? I don't know why.
Maybe you're a fucking empath. path that's wild that's weird maybe this story made you intuitive i think it did thank you so much A huge handlebar mustache and resembles the past football player Mike Dicka. don't tell him that to his face though because he might kill you noted i'm looking up my mike ditka So I'll set the stage of where the fun stuff starts.
Picture me, 18, a gangly ska kid from the burbs of Buffalo, New York.
Yep, that's exactly who I pictured. Your dad seems adorable.
I'm attaching a picture for the record so you can see my bomb-ass highlights and complete awkwardness.
Appendix A. I love that there are appendixes.
You're a librarian for sure. When I'm not slinging a trombone on stage and pretending like I know how to sing, I'm stealing street signs and fence company signs with my scabros because that's how we did, fucking nerds.
We were all straight edge, so we needed something to pass the time.
We eventually shook the kleptomaniac shit and were drowned to other stuff. mostly because we could finally drive.
This was the age of the internet, so Myspace really connected us to some interesting stuff.
The day of my high school graduation, one of my best friends had a grad party.
We ended up having a super great time and ended the night with a campfire, our tradition. of sorts.
That's what we did too. Because everyone was up super early, Everyone really checked out sooner than usual, leaving only a few of us left.
Me, my friend Lisa, name change because we've lost touch, And my BFF for, my BFF for E. My BFF forever.
Forever. Joe. Lisa had a sweet Chevy Cavalier and would drive us around from time to time.
Since the three of us were still ready for some action, we decided to travel to East Aurora, New York. a quaint and sleepy town about 40 minutes away.
So what's in EA, you ask? Goodelberg Cemetery.
Okay, so if you Google the name, you'll find some info, but to fill y'all in real quick, this old cemetery dates back to the 1800s.
There's maybe 20 some graves and it's on a pitch black dead end street.
The three of us had read some stories about a lot across the street, belonging to an old abortionist who would carry out the deed for desperate men who needed their problem to go away.
Guys are douchebags. Oftentimes the mothers would not survive, as the practice was still in its infancy and quite dangerous.
Rumor has it that this Dr. Goodleberg would bury bodies in a lot across the street, or throw them in the body of water a few hundred yards away that is fucked up.
So fucked. The lore also says that at some point, Dr. G hanged himself from a tree above the cemetery because he couldn't manage his guilt anymore. as he was implicated in a murder.
Certain paranormal websites state that you can often see a transparent being hanging from a branch, or hear hellhounds in the distance, or even find the small handprints of babies on your window if you abandon your car to walk in the cemetery. queue that night oh i hate this already fuck that we made the drive prints are not for me Dead baby handprints are not anything I want to be involved in.
Honestly, real life baby handprints also work for me.
Like, get some Windex. Real life babies.
Babies are for me, just not their handprints.
Not the handprints. We made the drive and we're definitely ramped up, ready for anything really.
Lisa parked across the street from the cemetery.
Note that there were signs all over the fucking place to tell you not to park anywhere.
We obviously did not heed their warnings because we were badass, unstoppable high school graduates.
I remember the road being covered by a dense fog.
The night was chilly and it was probably around 1230 or so.
This is what nightmares are made of. Thank you.
As we approached the steps up to the graves, the moonlight peered through the few trees illuminating some of the headstones.
I quickly deduced that this was probably a War of 1812 cemetery and there was nothing to worry about.
I remember saying something like this is fascinating.
I sincerely hope these people are resting in peace.
I really felt nothing negative at all, even despite the fact countless headstones were vandalized.
We continued walking further to the body of water behind the cemetery.
It was really calming being out in the country with a couple of friends.
I was feeling actually really wonderful.
Then the sounds began. It started with low bellowing growls and grew to loud ass barking.
This wasn't a typical dog bark, it was chilling and infernal.
Chaos was circling us. Hellhounds? Well, fuck me.
I wasn't prepared for this. we couldn't see a thing at all just the sonic bombardment cutting through us wow great writing I know Collectively, we all began to book it back to the car, which at this point was probably a couple of football fields away.
I would have died. Joe was a track star, so he ran out in front as Lisa and I trailed behind.
As soon as we hit the graveyard, it stopped.
Out of breath, we gingerly walked back to the car.
As Lisa began to unlock this driver's side door, we see it.
Fucking baby. handprints no like 10 of them all over the fucking place nah fam we were done yeah bye My ears teared up.
It was so insane that his ears teared up.
I just threw my head back so far that I literally got dizzy.
Your jaw, like, unhinged with those ha ha ha's.
My jaw, like, does unhinge, I feel. His eyes teared up.
My eyes teared up and I wiped that shit off the windows so fast.
We bounced as quickly as humanly possible and drove home in silence and disbelief.
Then the morning. The next day was Sunday, and for some stupid ass reason, my parents wanted to go to some picnic or something around 1130.
I'm like comatose at this point, but obliged because my parents had wanted us to go as a family.
We only had one bathroom at our house, so I had to wait until my parents were done doing their thing.
When the bathroom was free, I went in and washed up real quick, brushed my teeth, and did whatever I needed to do to look presentable.
My parents and sister were downstairs waiting for me to finish up, kind of peering up the stairs.
Okay, all set. As I turned off the water, the swift wind pushed through the hole upstairs.
The door to my parents' room slammed shut along with the door to my sister's room.
Then the bathroom window slammed down and the curtains flew off the wall.
I audibly said, what in the fuck? Then I hear it from downstairs, this deep voice from behind a handlebar mustache.
Brian, what the hell did you bring home last night?
I went cold. My dad found me out. I brought something home.
How? He didn't even know I went anywhere.
What followed me? I was doubly terrified now because I knew I messed up.
I spilled the beans immediately. and my dad was fuming I got my ass handed to me on the car ride I don't remember anything else from this incident but this wasn't the end Fast forward about seven years later.
I'm finishing up my grad degree. I'm no longer a ska kid and no longer as gangly.
I'm in love. I'm happy. Things are coming together.
Good for you. Yay. I found the one. Spoiler alert.
She was not the one. I didn't see that coming.
I found the one. Spoiler alert. No, I didn't.
The ones. She sucked. My girlfriend had her own place, a side-by-side duplex owned by her parents who now lived in a neighboring town.
On the other side were their old effects, including a room full of her deceased brother's stuff.
Honestly, none of that bothered me much.
I ended up living in his old room at one point and never felt a negative thing at all.
Before I officially moved in, my girlfriend had roommates, so she lived in a smaller bedroom that had access to the attic.
She actually put her bed in the attic along with a TV, some clothing, dressers, jewelry, etc.
This attic was the actual definition of suck.
Her bed was next to one of the walls where a full-size mirror hung.
Not smart. be in itself can't do that I did not like being up there at all Half the attic was blocked off by a sheet hiding more of her parents' old shit.
Old decorations, boxes, lamps, and the like.
I remember thinking, why the fuck aren't your shitty roommates living up here?
Either way, I embraced it and just enjoyed being around her.
Aww. I would stay over quite a bit, but not as much as I really could because of that goddamn bedroom situation.
I never told her why so I would make up excuses to go home.
I didn't want to upset her. I guess I should have though.
One random night, I decided to stay over.
We fell asleep and all was fine. No real issues.
At some point, three or fourish, I was wide awake.
I sat up and felt like I was stuck in a trance.
I got up out of bed and ducked underneath the rafters and was drawn to the front corner of the attic.
My eyes adjusted. In front of me is a figure of a dark man wearing a hat crouched in the corner.
Just watching. No. Why was he crouching?
Nope. Nope. Smoke is coming from him like he's taking a drag from a cigarette.
The fuck? I walk right up to him and start waving my hands furiously in an attempt to clear the smoke.
I love that that was your first response.
He's like, what are you doing? He's like, secondhand smoke kills, man.
I walk right out, or excuse me, as quickly as he appeared, he's left.
I'm sweating bullets. I start yelling, babe.
Babe, we gotta get the fuck out of here.
Some shit just happened. My girlfriend woke up and I practically dragged her down the steps to the living room.
I sat her down and go, We can't be up there anymore.
I saw something, I swear to God. She quickly went from sleepy state to wide awake and said, What did you see?
There was a man, a dark man. He was wearing a hat.
He was smoky. craziest thing it felt like a dream but it was so weird he was smoky if drew woke me up and said that i'd be like well burn the place down like what She went silent and all the blood left her face.
Her normally olive complexion turned the palest shade of white.
I was confused and alarmed. What the hell was going on here?
Then from her pursed lips comes the words, not again.
Not again? What the fuck do you mean not again?
For the record, I shout at these things you have every right she explained that when she was a kid her friends had a sleepover up there once At that time, it was her older brother's room.
They always felt cool being amongst his things, Nirvana and Green Day posters, incense, etc.
Incense is cool, I love that. And he was away that night. everything little girls would do at a sleepover.
When bedtime came, they all retreated to sleeping bags.
In the middle of the night, one of her friend awoke from a sound sleep to see, I bet you can guess, a black figure of a man in a hat taking drags from a cigarette.
She told my girlfriend and nothing ever really came from it because my girlfriend didn't believe her.
It was swept under the rug. Well, guess she didn't make that shit up.
We slept in the living room on the pullout couch that night and moved her bed to the lower room the next day.
I also put a glow in the dark light cover of Jesus and two children as he shepherding a lamb in that room.
I'm literally screaming. I'm not overly religious in the sense.
But apparently this was enough to stave off whatever crept in the attic.
I'm literally screaming. Nothing ever fucked with us again.
Wait, here's the thing though. I was like haunting a family.
Like when I die, like I do plan to do that.
Like I wanna. I would never be like, like driven away by Jesus.
No. I wonder why it drives a lot of spirits away.
Well, because demons. Isn't it supposed to be that Jesus protects you from the demons?
Do you think that guy was a demon or you think he was just smoking?
I think he was just smoking, but I don't know because he never fucked with.
But it worked. Yeah, exactly. It's important to note that before I came into the picture, her brother was haunted by a lot of things and had many personal demons. perhaps this was one of them I'm not sure I only lived in that house for another year or so as we broke up She was incredibly miserable and I just couldn't do it anymore.
In retrospect, I think I may have had better luck dating the black figure in the attic.
Fast forward again, current times. I'm in my early 30s. still laughing i fucking love you i'm just picturing like walking back up to that i'm like you want to give this a shot Do you feel this between us?
I'll get rid of the Jesus lamp if we can continue with this.
Let's see where this goes. Can I have a drag?
I'm not a smoker. That might be a deal breaker. you should really try Chantix I was just gonna say are you willing to try Chantix for this relationship oh i'm in my early 30s and i own an upper lower apartment with my parents they live downstairs and since they're aging and like to fall down Since their age. their aging, like to fall down, go into diabetic shock, etc.,
I decided this would be a smurf. The audio is going red right now.
Anytime the audio goes red, that's how you know it's a good time.
My siblings call me the golden child. They're just jealous shitheads.
Regardless. We moved in November of 2017.
I moved in first because my parents were still selling their current home.
Everything was all peachy keen. The past owners of the home were the only ones who had ever lived there, and I guess they were a little Italian family.
Like they were actually little. Maybe the tallest of them was 5'6".
And yes, it shows. I hit my head on shit all the time, even three years later.
Is 5'6 that little? I didn't think so. I'm 5'6".
Since the father had passed away, which triggered the family selling this home, what kind of What irked me was that they left a whole bunch of his stuff in the basement along with Catholic, Jesus-y items I gave away.
Why'd you give them away? I thought you liked them.
It helped you out. I'm attaching a picture of the crushed velvet Jesus painting With bloody tears that was left in the basement for reference?
See Appendix B. Oh, I've seen it. They also left clothing tools and like world's best grandpa shit. if any of my future children leave that kind of shit around I will haunt the hell out of them anyways I threw a lot of it away and donated a lot of his clothing Closings.
His closings. I donated it. I donated a lot of his clothing.
I donated it. One afternoon, a couple buddies and I were moving a couch into the garage and we're taking a second to catch our breath.
A little old dude kind of resembling the guy from Up walked up and said, oh, are you moving in?
I responded, yeah, my parents and I are moving in.
We're excited. I'll be taking care of them as they get older, you know?
The gentleman didn't say anything, just nodded at me.
I turned my head to the right to call my friends out of the garage so we could start moving the couch again.
They came back out, and I turned back to the gentleman.
Well, it was nice to meet, um, what the fuck?
The dude was gone, and I doubt he went back into the sky in a house being carried by balloons. i mean you never know i walked over to the neighbor's driveway and no one was around I was shaken and so were my friends because they also saw him walk up in the first place.
In doing some research, I found a picture of the past homeowner who had recently passed away.
Let's just say it turns out he was a man of few words in ghostly form.
That's cool. That's really cool. Since then, the ghost, whose name is Benny, has been a pest on and off for a while.
For a while, our electricity kept shutting off every time I was doing work in the basement, like he was pissed off or something.
The circuit in question was right next to an old metal cabinet with some of his old clothing in it that I happened to forget was there.
I was starting to get annoyed and asked the spirit to leave multiple times, ensuring him that the home is in good hands and that he's okay to pass on.
I began to have to reiterate this message daily.
One afternoon I was sitting with my dad on the couch in the first floor living room, just like normal.
And the ground began to shake below us. Just like normal.
Loud banging ensued. I got chills and said, nah, fuck this, I'm done.
I ran to the basement and yelled, fucking stop it.
You don't live here anymore. Don't do it again.
Phew, that should settle it. I went back upstairs and sat back down.
My dad and I began talking then. Boom, boom, boom.
You should have asked nicer. You shoulda.
I went back to the basement and just felt drawn to the back corner where that metal cabinet was.
I went up to it and said, fuck you. Because obviously that works, right?
Wrong. I donated the rest of his clothing the next day.
His clothing. And threw the cabinet away on garbage day.
I just wanted anything connected to him gone.
Since that day, which was about a year and a half ago now, he's only thrown my dad's computer mouse on the ground from his desk in the same living room.
I think the residual energy has dissipated, but you never really know.
So clearly this kind of stuff seems to follow me.
I'm currently dating a wonderful witchy woman.
Yes, alliteration. Yes, a witchy woman. We love a witchy woman.
And she also is in tune with spirits. I'm sure my encounters are far from over as she grew up in an old farmhouse and was constantly watched by a crouching black shadow man in a hat.
Apparently we're a match made in paranormal heaven.
That's adorable. If you've gotten to the end, thanks for reading this long ass tale of some of the creepy ass shit that I've encountered.
I really appreciate you both for all the things all that you do and look forward to more episodes of Morbid, Crime Countdown, and possibly even seeing a live show once the world gets back to normal.
Hell yeah, brother. Keep it weird, but not so weird that you go to a haunted cemetery and bring back some attached spirit and then get found out by your dad who looks like of Mike Dickon or date a miserable person who hides the fact that a haunted black chain smoking figure in a hat wants to hang out with you in the middle of the night and definitely not so weird that a ghost who looks like the old guy from Up wants to keep annoying you in your new home.
To the point where you have to yell fuck you at him in the basement and donate all of his effects, including a crushed velvet Jesus painting.
Yours and weird. Brian's. P.S. If you ever need any help researching anything, I'm an academic librarian and that's kind of what I do.
Hit me up. And he did an emoticon too. Brian.
First First of all, appendix A, picture of gangly ass teenage Brian circa 2005.
Yes, Brian. That's so gangly-ass Scottie.
So gangly-ass. Appendix B, Crushed Velvet Jesus.
Blood tears. My God. That's a lot. My gosh.
Yeah, I would have also gotten rid of that.
That's wonderful. I love it so much. I love all of this you guys fucking killed it.
You guys are so good, man. You killed it.
It's crazy. You killed it, pun intended.
Filled it pun intended. Lots of people killed things.
I did a good job. You did a great job. There you go.
You did a great job. You did amazing. I pat myself on the back.
So you're doing amazing. You're doing amazing.
Thank you. Guys, thank you so much for this.
I just love you guys. I love you guys so much.
And like, I love you guys so much. So you should keep listening.
You should. And you should also keep it warm. weird but not so weird that you go to gun town cemetery and you take a picture of a lady who's dead and like maybe is standing right next to her grave i don't even know not so weird that you premeditate a murder and it's really bad and super sloppy.
Maybe keep it so weird that you get to go on Facebook in prison.
I guess it could pass the time. Don't ever have a murderer in your parents' wedding.
That's far too weird. Never, ever, ever murder somebody at a Halloween party.
That's way too weird. Definitely keep it as weird as Brian because I think he's living his best life and definitely always keep it as weird as Huey and Poplock and drop it the fuck up out of horseshoe.
Lake, bro. Yeah. Bye. Bye. Thank you. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
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