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New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash imagine or text imagine to 500-500. That's audible.com slash imagine or text imagine to 500-500. Hey, weirdos. I'm Elena. I am Ash. And this is Morbid. Haha, I tricked you. LOL.
This is a crazy silly goose version. I'm always a silly goose, but it's... Silly goose business. Listener tales! And you know what that means. By you, for you, from you, and all about you.
I'm unhinged. Guys, we needed this after Fred and Rose West. Jesus Christ. My goodness, what a ride we all took together. I know. I think I have literally... Do you know, like, I feel like this hit me all of a sudden. I just feel like you cut off... Her eyes... Can I just tell you her eyes are closed right now? They were, yeah. And she's leaned back and she's gesturing...
Vividly. Wildly. I just picture cutting off the top of my head and pouring out all of that information into a coffee cup and then chucking it off the side of the highway.
Huh. That's mine. I like that. You know what? I like that. It's better than the eraser. And I might use that. I'm not going to put it in a coffee cup, though, because I hate throwing out coffee cups. Well, just like a styrofoam one. So I'm going to, I'm just going to do it into... A trash can. A trash can. Oh, a metal one. Yeah. Because it's like apocalyptic. Yeah, absolutely. I'll do that too. Hold on. Or into a fire, into a campfire. No, because then the fumes spread.
Yeah, that's true. You got to think about those things. You really do. You have to think about these things. You have to think about the significant repercussions of your actions. You do, of pouring information out of your brain. After you cut the top of your head off. Yeah. I mean, yeah. We're all there, I think. The cool thing is that you could put the top of my head back on. I could. I know how to do that. That's like a living of yours. That was one of the things I got pretty good at, actually. Yeah.
It's taking it off and putting it back on. You have layers. I do. I was talking about you at a place that I went. I was talking about you at like a little dinner thing that I went to and just like how many layers you have. Hey, thanks for talking about my layers. You're welcome. Everyone in my life is very impressed with you and I'm like, yeah. Wow.
I don't feel like an impressive person. That's so fucking stupid. Like a strange and unusual person. I mean, why can't all of those things be true at once? They can both be true, I suppose. You're strange, unusual, and wildly successful. Well, thank you. Yeah. You're welcome. Thank you so much. Absolutely. Oh, speaking of strange, unusual, and wildly successful, I have a new TikTok person that you guys should follow. What? And they're an author. What? What?
A thriller author. Is it the lady that you showed me today? Yeah. Her name is Geneva Rose. I like her a lot. Her name is great. And then I'm telling you, she's a phenomenal TikTok follow. And I've already, like, the books are coming. She won me over with her personality. And now I believe in her. She has a lot of books. Like, she has a few books. And the most recent one is, like, Home is Where the Bodies Are. And the cover of it, it's like...
I mean, also her husband, like, will jump on her TikTok videos and do, like, a quick synopsis of her books to, like, market them. Stop. It's wonderful to do. It makes me want to make John try to do a synopsis of my book, but... Wait.
That's a great TikTok idea. I know. I would have to credit Geneva Rose for that one because she totally, you spearheaded that campaign. Credited her. And your husband is wonderful at it. But he did like a whole thing and he said like there's 90s vibes in that one. And it's like, and the whole cover looks like a VHS tape. Which one is this? It's the Home is Where the Bodies are Buried, I think it is.
And I'm immediately, I ordered it immediately. It does look like a, oh, and she got a blurb from Lisa Jewell, our girl. Oh, our girl Lisa. Lisa. Lisa's a sweetheart. I just ordered You Shouldn't Have Come Here, and I think now I have to order. You gotta get that. So see, go Geneva Rose for the win. She's a great TikTok follow. She's just really funny. She's got like really good deadpan humor. I love that kind of humor. And I just really, she's one of those people that you're like, wow, I dig you. Like I just dig you as a person. So go follow her because you know what?
Authors, you know? Party. Authors everywhere. Authors in your hair. I love it.
And you can also support me by pre-ordering the Butcher Game. It's coming out September 17th. Finger guns. Finger guns. I was like, I don't know if this is a good segue. I think it is. I think it's time. I really wish you had done for, you know, you could also support me too. You can support me. Just like root them, toot them. You know, if you want to pre-order that stuff. All kinds of fun things are going to be coming up this year for the Butcher Game. So hang on to your bootays because you should pre-order it. I'm telling you.
I'm telling you. I think you should because I already finished reading it. Do it or you're dumb. Do it or be a rhombus. Buy this book or you're stupid. Buy this book or you're stupid. But yeah, that's my, that's like my happy note for, to go follow Geneva Rose. I love that. I've just been baking a lot of bread. Beautiful bread. I know. Oh my gosh, thank you. Yeah, very beautiful bread. Yeah, it's overproofed. Or no, I think underproof. The proof has gone the wrong way. There's a lot of rules. Yeah, yeah.
And there's a lot of opinions because some people say under, then some people say over. You just never know. I think I'm going to buy a bread proofer. Ooh. Yeah. That's when you've really gotten serious about bread. Drew says I'm on a bread journey. You are on a bread journey. I am. And you know what? We're having a lot of sandwiches and toast. We're all going to benefit from it. I'm never buying bread from the store again. No. And nobody else should because you know what?
Hot take here. Uh-oh. No, hot take. That's not bread. It's not bread. You can pry the potato bread out of my cold, dead hands. What if I make you potato bread? It'd probably be better because it's probably actual bread. Challenge. Accepted? I hope so. I'll make you potato bread. I'll look it up tonight. All right, potato bread. We'll have a taste test. Blind taste test. Let's do it. Bobby Flay style. That's happening. A, B. Bobby Flay. Remember that? Yeah.
It wasn't beat Bobby Flay, was it? Yeah, I think it was. Beat Bobby Flay. Beat Ashkel and her bread. Let's fucking go. I'll perfect it for a little bit. We're going to do that. Okay. So everybody prepare. I love potato bread and I love potatoes. You know what I love? Me. Listener tales. Yeah, we should get to that. I love that you didn't even say like, yeah, you too. You were just like listener tales. I was like, no, I like listener tales. Wow. All right. There's not a real like theme here.
No. To today's? It's a smorgasbord. Yeah, this is just like a poo-poo platter of wild tales. I love that. Lots of paranormal. I was feeling, you know, I told you guys last few, last four episodes actually that mama needs some ghosties. Yes. Okay. Mama needs some ghosties. Mama needs some...
Some lighthearted tales, but I don't think all of these are lighthearted, but let's go. But they're paranormal and that's fun. Yeah. So in this first one, I mean, it's called That Time I Channeled My Inner Buffy and Still Got Yeeted from the Cemetery. Oh, on topic because we literally just watched Buffy today. Go listen to the rewatcher or else. Do it.
So this one says, hey, morbid friends. My name is Jackie. Yes, you can use my name and any other names in this story. Don't even think about shortening a single part of this. I would never. I worked hard on it. Ha ha. Just kidding. Do what you want. It's your podcast. Speaking of, I fucking love all of the hard work you put into the podcast. Also loved The Butcher and the Wren. Thank you. It was so good. It was incredible. And I can't wait for the next book. It's coming out September 17th. You can preorder it now. Thank you so much. I'm so proud of you, Elena. Oh, my God. Thank you, Jackie.
Okay, moving on. I honestly feel like I'm a mashup doppelganger of the two of you. I was born in 85. What, what? That's Elena. And when all the other kids were asking, what would Jesus do? I was asking, what would Buffy do?
I'm a Gemini and former party girl who loves all things spooky. Now married to my best friend, we are proud members of the LGBTQ plus community. Busy raising our three cats and living the fucking dream as much as someone can these days. You as much as someone can, that part. You really are a mashup of the two of us. Truly. I was also mostly raised by my grandparents because my biological mother sucked at being my mom. Oh.
So my sister slash aunt and I are very much like sisters, even with our age difference. This is crazy. So I love your banter and it reminds me of her. Whenever I hear Ash talk about papa, ma and crazy mom stuff, I'm like, same. So thanks for being my imaginary best friend doppelgangers. Anyway, here's your putt-a-fuh. Let's go.
I said come along with me, gentle viewers. This story takes place in a little town located in the northern part of my home state. It's a hippie artist town surrounded by red rocks. It's got a very new age vibe to it, and it's filled with strange energy, vortexes, UFOs, and other spooky shit. I
I want to go to there. I would like to also go to there. Well, my grandparents, who I call mom and dad slash papa, spent decades dreaming of retiring to this beautiful little weird town. They bought property in the 90s and officially built their dream home early 2000s. At the time they bought the property in the 90s, they also got cemetery plots because...
Well, planning for the future, I guess. Honestly, that shit just gets more expensive. It does, so good on them. My dad often liked for us to visit the cemetery and take walks. I love that. I love cemeteries. Same. It was truly a beautiful and peaceful place. I'm sure you weirdos get it. We do. Of course we do.
I'm going to sob.
The husband's read. During the last few months, I wanted to sit with you and thank you for all you had done for me. Apologize for the times I might have disappointed you. Tell you I loved you and say goodbye. I never found the courage to start that conversation. On the chance you can still hear me, thank you. I'm sorry. I love you. Goodbye.
Sounds sweet, right? It does. Yeah, totally. I wonder what the wife says. Must be something really sweet too, right? Uh-oh. Morgan Freeman voiceover. It was in fact not sweet. Not sweet at all. Oh no. The wife's headstone, we will call her Norma. It reads...
Whoa. When I tell you that is...
The biggest mic drop I've ever heard. Holy shit. Have you guys ever listened to Obituary? Because this sounds like one of the obituaries that they would write. But like on a headstone. Guys, listen to Obituary because that's that whole show. That whole show. Like you will love that. Also, this is such commitment because you have to pay for like. Oh, by the word. Every part. You have to pay by the letter. Yeah, every part. Wow. That must have been a rough job.
Go at it. That's a rough girly. Yeah. Also, imagine being the person that has to chisel that into the stone. And you're just like, oh, fuck. You're just like, I think they didn't love her. Yeah, like, damn. Damn. And it says, yeah, that's some pretty heavy shit to put on a headstone. Sure is. Obviously, that has a story of trauma in there, if not generations of trauma.
My dad became fascinated by this. How could you not? Yeah, I love your dad. He took a picture of it, made copies, and snail mailed them to his friends. It's like, check this shit out. Keep in mind, this was the late 90s. He did this all the time with funny, strange, or interesting pictures and articles.
Honestly, he was an OG meme dealer. I love that. And I love this. This makes me think of like the time when things were, was better. When it's like the time when things was better. I couldn't get that out because I was staring off into the trees outside the window. You were thinking about the times of yesteryear. The time when things was better. I just missed the time of things when they was better, said the author.
Said the woman who's literally paid to write books. I've had times when things were better. Your literal jobs are just to speak right words. Yes, and I just said the times when things were better. Honestly, it's been a long day, okay? Since I could speak frequently. But no, I was just thinking about it and I was like, this guy saw something cool. He took a picture of it. He shared it with only his friends. He printed it out and shared it with the people around him.
That he cared about. The most. Only. Yeah. That was it. He didn't put it on the internet for strangers to have opinions about. It's a wild thing. It's a crazy thought. That was a thing that we used to do was you only shared cool shit with cool people. You know what? Like that.
I think that's coming back. I would love for that to come back. I think it's coming back. It took a lot of effort. So it's like if somebody was sharing something with you, you know it's cool because they're going through a lot of effort to share it with you. And how much they value you. And how much they value you. It made everybody kind of appreciate everybody a little more.
We should also bring back video stores while we're at it. Just saying. Don't even get me started on that. I know. I was talking with Sean, actually, from Mostly Horror. Another show. Look at us plug. We're not even meaning to plug. I know. This is really unintentional. It's very organic. It's feeling right. Look at us just being crunchy. I was talking to Sean about how much we loved video stores. And I said my first job, one of my first jobs, was at Hollywood Video. It wasn't your very first job? It wasn't my very first job. But it was one of my first jobs. And I loved it so much. I remember that.
so much and I miss that vibe and I miss that feeling so much that sometimes it hurts my heart. It's sad. I feel a nostalgia. Like I experienced video stores for like a little bit, but I wish that I could like experience them
For more. Because you probably experienced them. Because when did they go out? You were probably like a kid, right? Yeah, I was like a kid kid. Like you were like a teenager. No, I wasn't a teenager at all. Netflix was a thing when I was like probably like 10. Yeah. But you still had to like mail the DVD and everything. Yeah, Papa would like mail the DVDs and shit. But it's like there was something about being a teenager. Yeah, that's the thing. And going to the video store. I wish I had experienced that. On a Friday night that was just.
just, it was immaculate. Yeah. It really was. I get it. I want to live in that era again. Yeah. It's one of those things, I think, like everything's so dystopian that we're all just like, can we go back to that time? Oh, we're living 1983, baby. I just, I miss that time. Or 1984. But back to the story. It says, it became a
thing we did when we visited the cemetery my dad would take people to go visit Norma it was such a strange thing to see on a headstone I would too I would be taking everybody there honestly what's maybe not surprising I always felt weird around her grave almost unwanted like she was angry and didn't want to be bothered I mean she sounds that way angry
I've always been super sensitive to energy. Some things you just know. And Norma just wants to be left alone. Yeah, she does. Flash forward a few years. I was maybe 20 years old. And my friend Zach and I are obsessed with ghost hunting shows. Oh, hell yeah. Also fitting for your friend named Zach. Exactly. Wait, who's your friend Zach?
I had told him about Norma in the cemetery and we had to go check it out. So we packed up our snacks, our printed MapQuest directions and ghost hunting equipment, which was really just a cassette tape recorder, digital camera, flashlights, and a no fucks.
We set out for the cemetery in the middle of the night because it's spookier that way. While navigating the darkness and headstones, I channeled my inner Buffy, the goddamn vampire slayer, and was ready for anything. I love it. I ain't afraid to dust a vamp if I need to, but it was more likely we may come across a grave robber on drugs. At the time, there was news stories about people who had been arrested for grave robbing while high on meth. Damn. So I was on high alert as we entered the cemetery. You were brave on like so many levels. You were very brave.
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Yeah.
As if someone was trying to dig something up with a coffee mug and then just quit. Was someone here recently trying to rob this grave? Now it could be that it was just unsettling to see this, but suddenly it got very cold where we were standing. And Zach mentions feeling cold spots at that moment while still recording. I think your friend is Zach Bagans. I do too. Keep that part in mind for later. I will, because I think you're going to reveal that it's Zach Bagans. We then decided to keep going and made our way to Norma.
As we got closer, that feeling started to creep in. She does not want us there. I could feel it. Zach sets down the tape recorder on the headstone and began to talk. He...
This is Zach Bagans. I know it. In the making, too. Yeah, he's ready. He's like already like, let's go. Let's get Norma riled up. Let's go. So he says, Norma, can I ask you a few questions? She said, no. As soon as he finished this sentence, the tape recorder stopped recording. Oh, she really said no. She said, no. She didn't even say no. She just said, pfft.
She just closed the door. Literally. She said, I shit you not. We just looked at each other with one part amazement and one part shitting our pants. Neither of us touched the recorder. The button didn't pop up like it was paused or stop the tape. Literally just stopped spinning like the power had been sucked from it. Oh my God. Zach started to ask another question when it started spinning and recording again, but only for the duration of his question. Do you have any messages for us? Every single time it would stop recording the moment we stopped talking.
Whoa.
So on the drive home, we listened to the tape to see if we had gotten anything else weird. Turns out we fucking did. Let's go. Remember the part where we felt cold spots at the grave with the coffee cup hole dug? Of course I do. Of course I do. You can hear my friend Zach Bagans say, I'm getting...
He said, I'm getting some cold spots here. It is. I'm sure of it. It's gotta be. I'm sure of it. Then you can very distinctly hear what sounds like a disembodied voice of a woman say, who is this? What the? My stomach dropped and chills took over my body. Zach rewinds the tape, disembodied voice. Who is this? Ah!
I will never forget this moment. I was driving down the interstate at 4 a.m. going 80 miles an hour, and that's when I heard a motherfucking real-life EVP. That'll change you. We must have replayed that part over a dozen times that night. Was this a spirit from the disturbed grave, or was it another nearby spirit?
Next, we listened to the part at Norma's grave, and sure enough, all we got was the eerie sound of the tape slowing and stopping, then starting up again with each question. The distortion in the tape was chaotic, and I'll never forget the unease it gave me. Norma's lack of communication makes me think the EVP I had gotten earlier wasn't her. I don't think so either. I don't think so either. Zach and I would go on to play the tape for other people when we would retell the story, and anyone who heard it agreed whatever it was gave them chills too.
I do believe that it was in fact Norma that had something to do with the recorder malfunctioning, and she truly just wants to be left alone, seemingly the same way she did in life.
My dad, of course, got a real kick out of the whole thing at one point. At one point, I think I left the recording with him so he could play it for others. Years later, and I thought I had lost the recording of my night in the cemetery until I got a box of old stuff from my mom. See, my dad passed away in 2013. Oh, I'm sorry. I know. And is now buried in that very same cemetery. Oh, wow. My mom moved a few years later, and since then, I have gotten random boxes of old shit from her every so often. That's funny.
Back in 2022, I got a box, and in it was a cassette tape labeled Cemetery. So naturally, in this modern age, I went to Goodwill and found a cassette player so I could pump up some ghost jams. I sat and listened, cringing at the sound of my own 20-year-old voice, waiting patiently to hear my infamous EVP. Then, bam!
Who is this? It was just as spooky as the first time. Rewinds tape. Disembodied voice. Who is this? There she was, my long-lost EVP after all these years. A ghost of a ghost. But then, as I let the tape play, I heard something I had never heard on the tape before. Something familiar. It started as a low grumble, then a throat clearing, a voice mumbling, a
a voice I knew. It was my dad. Oh my God. My whole body froze as I listened. I hadn't heard his voice in years. Oh. Turns out this part wasn't anything paranormal at all. My dad had accidentally recorded over part of the tape years prior when I left him my tape recorder. Just dad things. Just dad things.
it was mostly just him cursing at the damn thing trying to figure out how to work it in that moment i laughed and it felt like he was laughing with me little did i know that tape would record more than just an amazing evp but it would eventually let me hear my dad's voice again i'm gonna cry this sounds like such a good episode of television that i want to watch i want to watch this this is lovely every time i go visit my dad at the cemetery now i always make a brief stop to say hi to norma she's
Still hates the company, so it's probably not a good idea to go looking for her. I'm just a spooky idiot. Next time I'll tell you the story of how a ghost saved me from a possible home invasion. Please do. Keep it weird, but not so weird that you end up being just such a shitty human that your kids memorialize it on your headstone and then that headstone becomes a 90s snail mail sensation and later you become the subject of amateur ghost hunters documenting a trip to the cemetery and you're like,
and declined to answer any other questions or comments. Also, don't keep it so weird you dig holes in graves with a coffee mug. Don't keep it that weird. Wow, that was... And also, my friend is Zach Bagans. She did not say that, but I feel like it was. P.S. That Zach I was talking about? Zach Bagans. You know him.
Oh my god, that was such a good one, Jackie. What a feel-good tale in the end. Like, that was great at the end. That just made my heart sore. No, genuinely, I'm not kidding you. I want to watch that. That was lovely. I really liked that. I loved that so much. My next one is listener tales. Bigfoot is a good friend of mine and demons possessed my roommate. I love both those things. Let's fucking go. Let's go. Dear Ash and Alina, you guys are amazing. The dark humor is my literal spirit animal. I love it.
And I die laughing and or cringe hardcore in the best way with every episode. I prefer that you don't use my real name. You got it. You got it. I will call you Laura. Laura. Because you said to.
I've been wanting to tell you my listener tale for a while, but it's so hard to narrow down which ones to tell. Truly, I don't know how often you even still do listener tales because I'm a latecomer to Morbid, and it's also changed multiple times. Through no fault of our own. None. And I'm trying to listen from the beginning. I'm about 200 episodes in. I cannot tell you how much anxiety I had for you when you announced all your live shows right before the pandemic. It was like staring at an oncoming train. We felt that way too.
I know that was like four years ago and you guys are probably over it now. No, we're not. Never. But whatever. It sucked. I'm so sorry. Oh, thank you for that. Thank you. That's so sweet. Yeah, it was kind of shitty, but you know. We're over it now. We prevailed. We said, let's go virtual. Hell yeah. And that was fun as hell. It was. It still is. Yeah, still gonna do it.
All right, let's start with why I believe in Bigfoot and probably a bunch of other cryptids. We should be friends. Let's do it. We are friends. Hell yeah. First, we have to set the scene. I grew up in a tiny town in southeastern Utah, like less than 2,000 people. Most of the area is dry desert and red rock. Oh, red rock. Theme of the episode, red rock. Weird. Yeah. But my hometown is set on the hillside of a random long dormant volcano. Damn. That's fucking cool.
So over 7,000 feet of mountainous elevation, only 15 miles away from the canyon lands. Canyon lands. Canyon lands. Canyon lands.
Maybe the lack of oxygen warped my developing brain or something. Most of the time I loved growing up there. The variety of scenery is amazing. That's so cool. It sounds like it. One of my favorite childhood activities was exploring the thousands of canyons carved into the barren landscape. I love that sentence. I know. My dad would study elevation maps. I remember him exclaiming randomly, Yep, that's where we're going. Ha ha ha.
And then we would just go find an ancient Anasazi ruins that nobody else knew about. And if you ask, he might take you there, but he will never show you on a map where they are. That's cool. Also theme, cool dads. Cool dads. That's the theme so far. Let me explain from an outsider perspective.
Wow, that sucks ass. Fuck.
Anyway, Jay needed a place to stay for the reception, and I offered to let him stay at my parents' house. We got there late at night, so I put him on the couch in the basement. He woke up on a homemade hodgepodge of fabrics randomly sewn in stripes over couch cushions. Love that. We were talking literal hot pink spandex next to old jean denim next to scratchy wool houndstooth pattern nightmare. My great-grandmother made the cover for the couch after the original one fell apart, and then my parents inherited it. That's amazing. Staring down at his face was a stuffed...
Was a stuffed giant bull elk head mounted looking sideways because one side had a huge rack of normal looking antlers, but the other had two giant spikes. What the hell?
There's so much going on here, I can't even picture it. My dad was also peering down at him asking if he wanted to go hiking with us. Your dad's great. We didn't have our friend's wedding festivities until later, so he said, sure. Fun fact, there's a saying you should always marry a girl from San Juan County because whatever you provide for her will be better than what she had growing up. Sad, but probably true. Fuck.
This is bleak, but amazing. Damn.
We walked along the rim for a while before my dad found the literal handholds that the, I hope I'm saying this right, Anasazi would have used. We descended down to the next rim of the canyon and then we walked that rim until we found another pathway down, etc. Until we found ancient stone and mud dwellings. That is cool. Jay's horrified to this day that we did this with no ropes or any kind of equipment. Yeah, no, I couldn't do that. No way. Okay.
The fact that none of my siblings fell off a cliff remains a miracle that I never appreciated until I saw it through his eyes.
How did we survive the 80s? Number one. Truly. So archaeologists don't all agree about what happened to the Anasazi. It is thought that environmental disasters combined with famine and war and disease led to them either dying off fairly suddenly or migrating into larger Pueblo communities away from the region. Regardless, many of their dwellings were left remarkably intact. They often left pots and granaries and weapons and toy dolls,
called Kachina's behind. I feel like we might have talked about this on a spooky lakes episode or something. I think there's a lake that's over one of these dwellings. Oh, I think you might be right. It's starting to sound familiar to me. But some of them are more remote sites that still have the artifacts, and it's creepy as fuck sometimes. I remember from an early age being told that they were to be respected and left alone. Under no circumstances were we to take artifacts home or damage them in any way.
Unfortunately, some people do take items and either sell them or just keep them for their own pleasure. And I hope that everyone that does steps on Legos barefoot every single day, even after their kids have long since become adults. Just rogue Legos in their house. Good. Or even, especially if they don't have kids. Hell yeah. Just find rogue Legos. Yeah. Also, I hope the spirits that haunt these areas are pissed off enough to follow them to their home and curse them forever. Get it. I love that.
My dad has all kinds of stories about things following him in and out of these canyons. He talks about hearing screaming and snarls and all kinds of bat poo crazy stuff. Bat poo crazy. I love that. He will tell you that there are things living down there that no one has seen and nobody wants to. Bigfoot, maybe. More on that in a minute. He wouldn't even tell his kids most of the scariest stories, but there is one he dubbed Devil John that haunts me to this day.
I literally remember nothing except the name, and it scared the crap out of me as a kid. I'm going to call John that. I think you should. Devil John. I know that fresh air is for dead people, but I can't help myself. My body just needs a really high dose of vitamin D from the sun to survive every day, which is why I basically hibernate all winter and wait for the sun to come back. I'm like the opposite of a vampire. Another theme of the episode. Oh, yeah. I emerge every spring all desiccated and gaunt.
I knew it was going here. Yeah.
How did you know it was going there? Because that was a thing. You always were in the back of pickup trucks when you were little. That's crazy. Like very unsafely. Drew has those memories. I do not. The air was clean and crisp. The sun was just barely peeking out over the horizon as I set out. It was quiet, but like outdoors quiet. Like you could hear the wind in the trees. Little furry creatures were scurrying about. Birds chirping. You get the whole bucolic scene, right? Yeah.
Well, all of a sudden, everything just stopped. I swear, even the wind stopped. And then, out of nowhere, there was a horrific screeching, screaming noise. I've heard many kinds of animal noises growing up in the middle of nowhere, but this was like nothing I had ever heard before.
Something was being slaughtered, and not cleanly. I don't know how long the screaming lasted, but I immediately decided to note myself right out of there as fast as I could, but not fast enough, because Bigfoot, or his demon mountain lion pet, was following me and growling behind me. What? I have never been so terrified in my entire life. I don't know how I made it back to my car and off the mountain in one piece. Damn. You said that, like, pretty casually, too. Yeah, just like, I don't know, I guess Bigfoot...
Bigfoot or a demon was following me. I kind of like to think that Bigfoot does have a pet. Yeah. I like that. I like that. Fast forward a few years, Jay and I moved to Washington State and decided to go camping one beautiful summer. We have lovingly termed this camp out the Deep Dark Woods trip.
Yeah, Rainier. Right?
Like a good girl scalp. Like a good girl scalp. I couldn't cut that out. I dug a hole for a latrine, I think, just inside the tree line between two downed logs. Perfect Forest Toilet, or PFT. And then we started exploring.
The trees are insane in this area. We only explored about 50 feet inside the tree line until it was completely dark because of the dense tree cover, and we couldn't see our campsite anymore. At all. And the vibes inside the forest, just indescribable. Like anything could be watching you, and you would never see it coming. It feels like stepping into another planet. It's like in Planet of the Apes when Charlton Heston crashes in his spaceship and assumes he's on an alien world, except it isn't.
But whatever. We walked right back out and had our fun riding dirt bikes and enjoying the scenery around camp the rest of the day. After dinner, we roasted our obligatory marshmallows and then went inside the camper to play cards until bedtime. I remember Jay had to pee and he just looked at me and was like, I'm absolutely not going to your PFT. No shame. I wasn't going out there after experiencing the weird forest vibes either.
Soon after he got back, we heard voices outside the camper. It sounded like normal human voices, but remember, we're in the middle of nowhere. We purposely avoided any type of civilization or campground, and there were no flashlights or vehicles or sounds of vehicles. It was just a pitch black, moonless night. We turned all our lights off inside and just listened, but the voices didn't say anything we could understand. I can't remember if our little kids were already asleep or if we had to hush them.
Whoever was outside walked past our camper and just kept going. In the morning, there was no sign that anyone had been there. No footprints, no signs of vehicles, nothing. Bigfoot and his mistress disappeared right back into the forest from whence they came. I mean, maybe they were just passing through, you know? Yeah, you know.
To this day, I'm convinced that we had an encounter with Bigfoot. I don't think he's scary. Me neither. I'm pretty certain he just wants to live his best life without human interruption. Honestly, and don't we all. Yeah, to which I say, peace my man. I get that. Yeah, I'm Bigfoot. Yeah, people suck. Maybe he needs ridiculous amounts of vitamin D to live too. These are not the only encounters I've had with weird stuff in the woods, but those stories are fairly mundane and more explainable by animals we know exist. Good grief, Laura.
Laura. Laura, that was cray cray. Laura. I think you're right. I think you encountered Bigfoot. I think so. And I think Bigfoot is just a guy who doesn't want to be around humans. And for that, I can't blame him. I can't either. You know? You can host the best backyard barbecue when you find a professional on Angie to make your backyard the best around.
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So my next one is going to be called Listener Tale. I had to abandon my home at 3 a.m. because a murdered woman wanted me to solve her death from beyond the grave and her demonic man is who terrorized me in the process. Whoa. That's a loaded tale. This one says, Hello, I'm Becca, and please use my name. Becca! Becca!
Here's my puttafut size 14 font and in times new Roman. I don't know if it ended up being double spaced because it nearly took a blood sacrifice to get it to save, so I took what I could get. Also, pictures of my kitties, just because. And yes, you can share their cuteness should you wish to do so. I love that. I love that.
Oh my God, I love Siamese kitties. Oh my God, and you have some named Laverne and Shirley, and I love it. Stop. I used to love that show when I was little. I also love that you wrote, hello Ash, Elena, Deb Deb, Mikey, and Dave. Wow. Everybody got a shout out. I love it. I love that. All right, I'm going to start your putt-a-fa.
It says, hello to my favorite spooky bitches. My name is Becca. You can absolutely use my name because I'll shit in my cat print nightgown and sensible sandals if I ever hear y'all read this. I love sensible sandals. Get yourself a new cat print nightgown and some sensible sandals.
Two of the names in my story will be changed just because the real people are scary, and I think one of them might still be alive. The other piece of shit died when I was a kid. LOL. May his crusty ass rest in distress. Bitch. Side note, I'm not the best writer, and I can't tell a story in a short and sweet way, so bear with me, as I'll definitely have 68 plus grammatical errors. LOL. Feel free to edit or shorten as you please. I can already hear you all saying never. Never. Never.
I would like to start out by saying I adore you both and I've never felt like I relate more to any other podcasters. Ash, I am also trash and you're both my whole ass spirit animals. And Alina, me and my man are also obsessed with ghosts. Oh, shit. The episode with Tobias had me squirming with excitement at my workstation. The episode with Tobias also had me squirming with excitement at my workstation. Still does to this day. So glad that we could be there together.
Thank y'all for keeping me entertained while I work these long-ass 10 to 11-hour shifts. I've been wanting to send in my story ever since I found y'all, but I keep getting distracted with life. But I'm glad it took me a while because I have recently been spiritually blessed with some new theories. Those are my favorite emojis that you put there. The little sparkles. Well, here we go. Hold on to your butts, boobs, and any loose objects lying nearby because this shit is about to get wild and y'all are going to be shooketh.
This, my lovelies, is the story of the time I was haunted, terrorized, and forced to abandon my home at 3 a.m. by a potential murderer's ghost because his victim's ghost was trying to get justice from the grave. Upside down, smiley face. Wait, the next fucking line. Before I start this whopper of a story...
That's weird. Elena has a Whopper sitting right next to her. I do. Today, we got a potential sponsorship from Burger King. And she said, that makes me want to go get a Whopper. Because I said, I haven't gotten a Whopper in so long. And so she got one. Years and years. I have never had a Whopper.
I'm still upset about that. We need to change that. I know. I had cottage cheese and fruit for lunch, so. Which is not the same as a Whopper. It's very, very fundamentally different. But we're going to make her have a Whopper. And also, I just took a picture of my Whopper so that we can post it with this episode so you can see, Becca, how connected we are. Whoppers. That there's a Whopper sitting next to me. As you said, this is a Whopper.
This is a whopper of a story. That's crazy. So it says, I would like to mention that all of the women in my family have always been extremely sensitive and intuitive when it comes to spiritual, supernatural beings. Dreams, good, bad feelings, seeing past loved ones, etc.,
Wow. Cool.
My mom was flabbergasted. My dad cried. It was a lot. But a few days later, me, my mom, and my sister were up in the woods getting pine cones to make a fall wreath. This was normal. We've always been crafty. That's adorable. Went out of nowhere. A copperhead snake is right in front of us acting like it's going to strike.
Oh my god, I love it. That's a dog right there. That's a dog. Yeah.
Oh, that's true.
That's shitty. They then decided to take all of the money aside from about $1,000 and go on lavish vacations. That's fucked. What the hell? However, they did buy one property with the money and that's where our story begins. Dun, dun, dun.
I would like to add that I hold no resentment for that anymore. If it hadn't turned out this way, I never would have met my best friend or my lovely boyfriend. Wow, you're a good person. Isn't it funny how things work out like that, though? Yeah. Like, if one event didn't happen, like, so many great things would have not happened. Yeah, it's true. That would have not happened. The man who sold them this land will call him Mitch because, well, it rhymes with bitch, and that's exactly what he is slash was. I don't know if he's still alive or not, but finger crossed for being warm food. Yeah.
He was in on this with a man named Toad.
I'm literally obsessed with that because why not? Toad and Mitch. Toad tried to poison my granny at a cookout once. What the hell? But with her having worked in a hospital for 29 years, she knew something was wrong and made herself throw up and survive. That's the baddest bitch behavior on the planet. That's the bad bitch behavior. Side note, I used to have recurring dreams about this house that I had never seen before and I don't remember what happened in the dream, but it was a very evil place.
Probably 10 years later, I was with my dad and we drove past this exact house from my dreams. I told him about the nightmares and he was shocked. He informed me that this was Toad's house. Not Toad. My mind. Anyway, Mitch basically scammed them and was able to con about $250,000 out of them for a maybe half acre piece of land with a barn on it. Are you kidding? When they realized what that was going on, they threatened legal action.
That was when he told my aunt that he was a warlock and practiced dark magic. No. He told her that if they went to... No, Toad. No. No, Toad. Is it... I think it's Mitch who's the... Is it Mitch or Toad who's the warlock? Maybe Toad. I think you're right. Maybe.
He told her that if they went to the cops, he had connections and that they would abduct little four-year-old me and I would never be seen again. Oh my God. Fuck these guys. No, it was Mitch. You're right. Mitch is the warlock and asshole. Keep in mind, Mitch lived two doors down from this place. Naturally, they chose to protect me, thank God, over the lost money. That's when my granny decided to convert this old barn into a house. Now, a little background on this barn. It had already been not only a barn, but a garage, a two-story loft, and a gunsmith shop.
This place only had two out of four rooms finished downstairs. Sheetrock and all, this may be important.
She really is. Ooh. Ooh.
Anyway, she fell into bad health, so we moved into a nice little single wide trailer that we placed on the property so my dad could take care of her. As the years went by, her mobility was getting worse and she couldn't get up and down her stairs anymore, so we made the decision to trade houses with her. The first few years there were mostly normal, with just little things happening here and there. The first instance that I recall was in the summer of 2012. Me and my sister were home alone. My dad was going to pick my mom up from work.
Our main entrance was in a tiny foyer about six feet from our living room. You could see the 12-light window door from the couch where I was sitting, and my sister was a few feet away from me in a recliner.
We were doing our usual at the time, watching the Top 20 Countdown on CMT, country music television, and sitting as close to the edge of the furniture as possible to steal enough Wi-Fi from the neighbors to check our Facebook accounts. Iconic. Suddenly, we heard a man talking outside our front door. It was loud enough to tell it was a person, but we couldn't understand what he was saying. I looked out the window from my perch on the couch, and there wasn't anybody there. So we called our dad to see if maybe he was home and just out of earshot. He assured us that he and mom were about 15 minutes away.
So panicked, we grabbed the dog and ran upstairs to lock ourselves in mom and dad's extremely creepy bedroom to wait for them, thinking it was an intruder. Keep in mind, all the doors were locked and we left the TV remote on the coffee table. All of a sudden, we hear the TV volume turn all the way up. No.
Oh, I'll never forget. Oh my God, this is a nightmare to me. I'll never forget. It was blaring Blake Shelton. Oh, even worse. Nightmare, nightmare, nightmare. We were terrified. Honestly, I don't blame you. And just sat there as quiet as possible trying not to shit ourselves. A few minutes go by and then the TV volume slowly starts turning all the way down. I would be like, thank you.
I'm trying to think of a song that Blake Shelton sings. Just, oh, you be my horny circle. I'll be your horny bee. Just full blast. Because everyone goes through a phase at least once, except for you, where they like country for a minute. I was going to say, do not say everybody. Nor. But yeah, that's rough. My kids actually. My kids.
Mikey is literally like melting into a puddle of disgust right now. I had a for real country phase in high school. That's really upsetting. It is. I know. I don't like to talk about it. Yeah, it's a dark past that everybody has. You be my summer day. Ew. I know. I'm sorry. If you love country out there, like love what you love. Yeah. Like that's okay. I'm not saying you're gross. Of course it is. I'm saying I literally hate country music. You're golf. You are allowed to love country music. You're only golf.
Like, love what you love. I'll support you. Even though I just said ew to Ash. She doesn't support me. She supports you. But I support you guys. Finally, we pulled ourselves together once we found out our parents had just pulled into the driveway. We decided to go back downstairs. The TV was turned completely off. The remote hadn't been moved and all of the doors were still locked.
We called our mom, and she said she had been sitting in the truck in the driveway while Dad took some supplies into my granny's house. She said she had been watching the front door the whole time, and at one point she had seen a dark shadow figure standing on our walkway right in front of our main door.
The next instance, I was home alone. My sister was still shaken up by the first incident, so she went with my dad to pick up my mom on this day. Our kitchen was upstairs, right next to mom and dad's creepy bedroom, and I decided to go make a sandwich. He loves a sandwich. Yeah, you know? Now, still scared shitless. You know, I saw, brief little side note, because I just think this is a genius answer. I saw Ryan Gosling on, I think it was the Stephen Colbert's show. Yeah. And he said, what is your favorite sandwich? And he answered, ice cream.
And I was like, that's a genius answer. That is fair. And I wouldn't have thought of that. I would have never thought that. I just think that's a good answer and I just needed to say that. I like that. That is your answer, isn't it? Because I agree. Mine's turkey and cheese. Ice cream sandwich. Hell yeah. But the cookie witch one.
Oh, yeah. Like the two cookies. A chip witch. Chip witch. That's what it is. Cookie witch. I was like, not exactly. I want to be a cookie witch. That's what I want to be. Want to be or are. Yeah. Now, I was still scared shitless, but a bitch was starving in my best Boston accent, which is bad because my accent is southern to the core. I love that. I love that you did that. So I grabbed our little chorky named Buford. Oh.
I'm sorry. Can we all just have a moment for Buford the Chorky? I love that. Is that a Chihuahua Yorkie? Buford? I'm obsessed with that. I love. Buford. Literally obsessed. I love. And headed upstairs to make a sandwich. I had him in one hand and was spreading my mustard with the other hand. I called. I need to add for context that it was still summer and it was always blazing hot upstairs. But as I was standing there, I suddenly felt even more uneasy.
Right then, I felt an ice-cold breeze whoosh past me out of my mom and dad's room. Which is creepy. Buford is trembling at this point, and all of a sudden, right in my ear was the creepiest, most demonic-sounding laugh. No.
When I tell y'all my fat ass has never ran that fast in my life, I was missing steps, just gliding. I ran outside and sat to wait for the rest of my family to get home. After that, I didn't stay there by myself anymore. I do not blame you. No. My feet wouldn't have touched the floor. Yeah, I would have gone into orbit.
I think. I would have Kool-Aid manned out the front door. Don't even waste time trying to open it. Just, oh yeah, I'm out. Yeah. Now we get to October of that year. This is when things start getting really spicy as fuck. Because the veil gets so much thinner. That's right. Oh, I miss it. I need October. I know.
My sister's birthday is October 9th, so it's spooky, but like diet spooky, you dig? Anyway, my former tattoo artist uncle gifted her very first tattoo to her for the birth anniversary of it all. LOL. We had just got back. It was about 11 o'clock at night and she was sitting outside in her Jeep, still talking on the phone with her bestie.
That's when she started seeing a dark figure darting back and forth around the back of her Jeep. Mom was upstairs. My dad and I were sitting there watching TV when she comes running in the door. She was convinced that we were trying to play some silly trick on her to scare her. But no, we hadn't moved since we got home.
That night, I got a random voicemail. I had no missed calls, and when I got my voicemail, it didn't read off a phone number or the time in which the voicemail was left. Flip phones in 2012? Ick, yuck. This voicemail was and still is the most horrifying thing I've ever heard. It was loud in the background, like a roaring noise, and then in the most demonic voice I've ever heard, it screeched, I'll kill you. And then the voicemail ended. So it was like,
I'll kill you. Probably a little different though. But no, that was demonic. It was like demonic. Like, wait, let me, let me try. I'll kill you. How's that? How is that? That was just fun. If you got that on your voicemail, you'd be like, that was fun. That was just good fun. Yeah. Yeah. To that fun.
That actually hurt my throat so bad. I didn't even practice that in my head or anything. Oh my god, I'm screaming. I am screaming. So the voicemail ends after that. And she said, that was just good fun. That was just good fun. It reminds me of a parent trap when she's like, you can call me Miss Vicky. See? It's just good fun. Ah!
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So my dad listened to it and immediately went pale. He called 911, so it wasn't just good fun.
Hello, officer. I'd love to report some good fun. Some good fun. Although the officers also looked horrified and pale listening to it, they couldn't trace the call and basically chalked it up to a prank call brought on by it being so close to Halloween. You're like, thank you so much for your help. Thank you so much. I'm so glad you're getting paid for this. Appreciate it. Around this time, I had started having horrible nightmares about this man and woman. I had never seen these two before in my life, and their features never changed.
They looked like they were probably in their late 20s. The man was probably between 5'10 and 6-ish. Brown shaggy hair, kind of in a comb-over style, looking 70s as fuck. We love. The woman was also tallish, maybe 5'9, 5'10-ish. I'm 5'2, so everyone's taller than me. You're taller than Elena. I hear that. You're taller than me. Anyway, she had bleach blonde hair and looked to be about 8 to 9 months pregnant in a white shirt and jeans.
Noted. Oh my God.
She was trying to get my attention to help her because she hadn't done this herself. Her man had. I was trying to get up the small embankment when I started sinking into the mud and couldn't move. It was like quicksand almost. That's when the scary man, who was her boyfriend, fiance, husband, I don't know, ran up with some crazy eyes like he was going to get me. She was still screaming and fighting when I woke up partially numb and in a cold sweat. That is horrifying. I could feel something watching me in my room.
It felt like a male spirit daemon.
Of course. Of course it was. Oh, God.
At this point, I'm standing at the entrance of the foyer where the 12 light window door is that I mentioned earlier. And I could hear him come in the door. Then my dream ended and I woke up once again before I could get to save her. As I woke up, I felt that familiar but terrifying male entity watching me like the first time and again looked at the clock. It was 3 a.m.
By the time I had the second dream, I was so terrified that I went and told my mom. Because there's no way that it's a coincidence that I've dreamed about the murder of a woman I've never met twice now. Once I explained the dreams, she went pale. She said, you need to go talk to your granny immediately. So she went with me, and when we got across the yard to my granny's, my mom asked her to tell me what she found when she got to the house for the first time after buying it. She was like, well, there wasn't a whole lot of anything, really, except for a purse.
A purse? A leather purse. A brown leather purse? I went numb. She continued, yeah, when I walked into the basement that day, the room was completely empty, except for a brown leather purse on the floor in the center of the room. Oh, that's so creepy. I looked in it and found a woman's license, cards, all her belongings were still in it. I didn't know how to get a hold of the couple, so I threw it away.
My brain screamed, wait, granny, what couple? Why did you throw it away? She then told me she hadn't met them, but it was a young couple, maybe late 20s. He had shaggy brown hair and she was bleach blonde and like eight or nine months pregnant. When I tell y'all I went through the five stages of grief in that moment, Dave Grohl himself could have walked up and slapped me across the face and I wouldn't have noticed. And that's a big deal because I'm obsessed with him.
I just love that like Dave fucking girl. And then you're like, by the way, I'm obsessed with this. And honestly, great taste in humans. Yeah. Dave girl is supposed to be like one of the coolest humans. I've always heard that. Yeah.
Around this same time, a lady that my mom worked with approached her one day. She said she had a dream about us that was strange. Mom hadn't told anybody about what was going on with my dreams, but this lady told mom that in her dream she was at our house for dinner, but she said it was weird because the living room was downstairs and that the kitchen, bedrooms, and bathroom were all upstairs. This woman described our house to a T and had never even set foot on our property.
Mom told her that's exactly how it's laid out, and she was shocked. She then continued to say there was a man and woman there, and she got really bad vibes from the man. She described him as having brown shaggy hair around 5'10", 6 feet, and had this overbearing intensity. Definitely 5'10". She described it. Yeah, absolutely. He did not hit 6 feet. Claims he's 6 feet.
She described that the woman, who was around 5'9", 5'10", had bleach blonde hair and was about eight or nine months pregnant. Y'all, I started bawling when my mom told me this. Oh my god. This poor woman was trying to get justice from the grave and knew she could reach me in my dreams and apparently in random co-workers' dreams too.
I immediately went into detective mode and started researching everything I could. Property records only show as far back as my granny. It says she built it in 1989. My granny didn't build this place. She bought it partially redone. And that wasn't until 2000 after my great-grandfather passed. This whole part is shady to me. How could it say that when she didn't even know about the property until 2000?
Also, you want to know what rooms were already finished when she showed up that first day? The living room, the foyer, and the side room beside them. The same rooms that were under construction in my second dream. Oh, that's weird. That is weird. To this day, aside from the upstairs, those are the only finished rooms downstairs. There are two more side rooms that are just rafters and dirt floors. We didn't use those after we found an old creepy wedding dress in there. Shut the fuck up. I promise I'm getting to the crescendo. Don't worry. This has been riveting. Yeah. Yeah.
I heard that.
Yeah.
At 3 a.m., I sat straight up in bed and had this beyond overwhelming feeling of sadness. I was uncontrollably sobbing, and I didn't know why, all while simultaneously having the worst and most excruciating stomach cramps of my life.
I can only describe them as what I've heard about labor pains. I'm just the cool childless aunt for now. What? I was sobbing so loud. I woke my sister up. She knew what was going on at this point, so it terrified her. She couldn't wake me up. I remember her screaming for mom. Mom came in there and was violently shaking me, trying to get me to snap out of it. This wasn't me. I couldn't control myself. I looked behind her as she's yelling in my face and crying, and I see it.
The dark brown shadow figure is standing at the door behind her, watching this all go down. Finally, I snapped out of it, and I was shaking more than I ever had before. I told my mom I couldn't live there anymore. That night at three in the morning, my sister and I moved to our mama and papa's. Oh. Is it mama? Mama and papa's.
Uh, about four minutes away. My mom and dad stayed for another week before they followed. They were asleep in bed one night when mom suddenly snapped awake, feeling like an elephant was sitting on her chest. Uh,
She's a heavy sleeper, so this was extra strange. A little dog was right beside her growling at something and she couldn't move. What? She felt paralyzed. She opened her mouth to scream for dad and nothing would come out. She said it was so cold and then she heard the same demonic man's laugh that I heard in their doorway while making my sandwich that day. It finally released her and that's when they left too.
All of their stuff was left. We've gone in there a handful of times during the day to get important stuff, but we won't step foot on that property at night. My dad lives in the trailer now as they divorced almost five years after this. The old house has been ransacked and it's falling apart at the seams. I've researched it on and off for years trying to find this woman and I still can't figure it out.
Now to the theories. We've always felt like she's buried on the property because she still haunts the place too. Before all of this happened, I remember one of my childhood best friends claimed sister, rest in peace, my sweet angel. Oh, I'm sorry. I know, I'm sorry. Saying that she saw a blonde woman in white at the top of the stairs. She's always trying to scare us, so we brushed it off. I wish we had taken it seriously now as she passed away on June 1st, 2015 at only 17 years old.
Only 19 days before her 18th birthday. I won't get into all that, though or I'll cry. Oh, I'm sorry. Anyway, we've always wondered if he had buried her under the concrete because the pavement next to the garage entrance was poured separately and has something written in the corner that we can't make out. Oh, that's creepy. But I remembered something yesterday that makes me think otherwise. When I was a kid, I had a recurring dream about this little girl. It was always in the foyer of the house, you know, the one with the 12-light window door.
What?
that this woman was coming to me in my dreams as a child to not scare me as much oh shit now we truly i'm getting full chills i am too they're like literally literally yeah now we truly feel like she could be in the walls of either the living room the foyer or the one side room that was finished when my granny got there my suspicions go closer to the living room because in that second dream the walls were covered in plastic like they were in the process of being finished
Maybe he hanged her, she dropped her purse, then he put her in the wall and sealed it up. Eventually we want to tear out the sheetrock and see if we can find her. That would be terrifying, but her and I both need resolution. We don't have any answers yet, but it all feels like little pieces are coming together over ten years later. One day I'll figure out her name and hopefully give her peace once and for all.
Thank you so much for reading. And I'm so sorry that this is so long, but there are so many important details. No, don't apologize. No, this was fucking wild. Riveting. I love y'all so much, and I'll be so excited if I ever hear this on the podcast. Shout out to my newly claimed sister, Amber, who has always been obsessing over this story ever since I told her and has been researching like a madman, lol. Keep it weird, y'all, but not so weird that. Take it away, Ash.
Oh my god, I don't even know. Not so weird that you don't tear down that fucking living room in Sheetrock because we need to find out. We need an update to this story. Also, you are absolutely adorable. I know I love you guys. You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen. I know. Like, holy hell, girl. Becca, like, your eyes are outrageous. They're so blue. You guys are so cute.
I love you guys. You're a beautiful couple. You really are. Your man says Dave Grohl vibes. He does have Dave Grohl vibes. So good for you, girl. Got him. I love got him. And your cats are so cute. Becca, that was a story. That was crazy. That was wild.
All right. This tale is one of carnage, a delicious just desserts, and haunting spooky feelings felt to this day. To start, this story has 26 different versions. Whoa. All the information that is in this tale can be found on the pig farm murder of 1887 by Karen Field, who married into the Field family, descendants of Lily Field. Oh, wow. And Clifford...
nutsome it's important for field that the full story be known instead of the 26 different versions field is quoted as saying we wanted to make sure that people knew the story behind it it's not just a ghost story it's not just a haunted pig farm it's a story about how a family came to rural minnesota and how the family experienced tragedy after tragedy oh i love when you guys focus on the victim first so that's where we'll start
It's May of 1887, and Lily Field is a young 16-year-old woman who was growing up on her family farm in St. Olaf Township, located in Otter Tail County, Minnesota. P.S. You guys just recently covered a listener tale that took place in Fergus Falls, Minnesota.
This tale takes place just a few miles from what Fergus Falls is now. Sorry for the squirrel moment. Just wanted to represent for my fellow Fergus Falls listeners. I love that. Back to Lily. She was the daughter of Mrs. Alex Field. You're reading that right. Mrs. Alex Field. Just nine months before Lily's atrocious slaying, her father had committed suicide. The Field family was unfortunately familiar with loss before. Mrs. Field had lost Lily's older sister in the process of childbirth.
On the morning of May 28, 1887, Lily was left home with her little brother Charles while her mother ran to town. Lily, Charles, and a hired farmhand by the name of Nels Olsen Holong were starting with morning chores. Nels pulled Charles aside and asked him to run to the neighbor's farm about a mile away to drop off a shovel. Charles did as he was told and got on his way with the scoop shovel.
It is reported that Nels was in love with Lily and had been pursuing her for quite some time. However, Lily was not in love with Nels and did not appreciate the attention he was giving her.
After Charles made his way to the neighbor's house, it was assumed that Nels and Lily were to finish the morning chores. Lily was in the house attending to chores while Nels was finishing up in the barn. However, Nels had other plans. He was back on his bullshit of, I'm going to use modern day terms because in 1887, the local paper was all about patronizing women. Mm-hmm. Harassing Lily. The local newspapers report Lily was not one to take Nels' harassment or shit. Mm-hmm.
Let me just say, as you should, queen. Insert clapping hands emoji. Nels was around 28 years old in 1887 and was described by local newspapers as a 5'7", 130-pound man with somewhat stooped shoulders and dark hair. So he has bad posture is what you're saying. He does.
Nels later admitted that a squabble broke out between him and Lily. This squabble would lead to the disappearance of both Lily and Nels. These disappearances were not immediately alarming to Mrs. Field or Charles. Nels was done with his work for the day by the time Charles and his mother had returned, and Lily would normally spend the night at a neighbor's house to spend time with a girlfriend. It wasn't until the next morning, May 29, 1887, that suspicions started rising. Nels had not shown up for work, and Lily had not returned from the neighbor's house for morning chores.
Charles was worried but started attending to the farm chores. He was walking out to the pig pen to feed and was met with his sister's nude, mutilated, slain, and partially eaten body. Holy shit. That's so intense. That's horrifying. Lily was, quote unquote, begrimed in dirt and found without a single piece of clothing on her body. Her throat, along with her principal veins and arteries, severed completely.
This horrendous finding was brought to the attention of Mrs. Field, who alerted local sheriffs. It wasn't until the evening of May 29, 1887, that Nels was found in the nearby town of Wendell, Minnesota, attempting to flee to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Nels was apprehended and taken to the Fergus Falls Jail for holding. Justice could have been served by lynching if the sheriff Alonzo Brandenburg hadn't shown up to stop the mob.
World traveled fast in the 1880s. While Nels was being held, Lily was laid to rest by her family members along with community members. From the pig farm murder of 1887 by Karen Field and Clifford Knudsen, Knudsen noted, I feel confident we know where she is buried within a 15 by 20 foot. It's straight west of Ashby, Minnesota and is very close to Fort Palm de Terre.
While Lily's family was laying her to rest, Nels was awaiting trial and gushing to local sheriffs, reporters, and inmates about Lily and what had transpired on the morning of May 28, 1887. He's gross. Fuck you, Nels. This sick fucker would go into detail about what he had done and later retract statements he had previously made.
Eventually, Nels confessed and is quoted by saying that, My God.
She clutched her neck, ran out of the house, and fell. I stabbed her again, carried her to the hog lot, and went to the lake to wash off the blood from my hands. After this, I left the farm. You're a piece of shit. Just so matter-of-a-fact. Just, yep, I stabbed her in the throat. Yeah, she was like, no, I won't make you tea, and no, you can't have my picture. And he's like, I'll just stab you in the throat then. I'm like, yeah, okay. Yeah.
Oh, fuck you.
Less than a year after Lilly's slaying, William Rush Merriam, governor of Minnesota, signed his death warrant and Nell's was set to hang on April 13, 1888. Scaffolding was quote-unquote erected at the southeast corner of the jail, along with a high fence that did not allow for spectators. On April 13, 1888, at 1.30 p.m., a minister entered Nell's cell.
At 1.45 p.m., Sheriff Alonzo Brandenburg arrived and said, Nels, the time has come to do my duty. Nels was handcuffed and read his death warrant on the way to the scaffolding. Before climbing the scaffolding, the sheriff said, Stand up like a man, Nels. I love it. Once Nels was in place, Sheriff Brandenburg looked at him and said, Be a man, Nels, and pulled the executioner's lever. What a last thing to say. I know, it's wild.
Later that day, the Daily Journal reported, for the first time in the history of Otter Tail County, a murderer has paid the penalty of his crime. Damn. Might I just add, hell fucking right he did. After 11 and a half minutes, Nell's pulse was not detectable. Damn. It's a long time. It's a long time. His heart stopped after 20 minutes when physicians pronounced Nell's Olsen-Hollong dead.
Nels is compared by authors as a contemporary Jack the Ripper. However, I would disagree and say he's more of a distant Willie Pickton love child. That's literally what I was thinking. I agree. The pig farm, otherwise known as the ghost farm, is a hotspot for teenagers and paranormal seekers to visit at night. From my family members' reports, upon pulling up to the abandoned farm site, their cars would stall. You could hear squealing of pigs, screams of a young woman, and blood-curdling screams of a mother writhing in grief.
It's rumored that in the late 1970s, a serious seance, quote unquote, was conducted at the farm to summon Lilliefield. I love that it wasn't a silly goose goofy seance. It was a serious seance. Don't come if you're looking for laughs because this is a serious fucking seance. Leave your silly goose business behind.
Upon asking for Lily to show a sign that she was present, all the wildlife, birds, insects, and frogs became silent. It has also been reported that a dim candlelight carried by a woman has been seen moving in the swampy area south of the demolished farmhouse. That's so chilling. I love that.
Approaching the woman carrying the candlelight results in the woman and the candlelight distancing herself from the visitors. Good for her. But listen here. If I were in Lily's shoes, I would run the hell away from anyone trying to approach me too. Absolutely, I would. Yup. And you can be damn sure that I would scream my fucking head off if teenage middle-aged man came onto my farm site. Yeah, she's probably like, who the fuck are you? What are you going to do? Yeah, like what?
Hell yeah, she was. Take it in, that was a quote.
Take it away, Ash and Alina. My mom, sister, and I love you both. Take it easy. Oh, take it easy. I was like, take it away. I don't know what to say. You're like, do work. She's like, take it easy. She's like, no. There's our go-to. Do work. Oh, man. That was wild. What an old-timey tale for the ages. I know.
Fuck Nels man. Fuck Nels. What a sad story. Just because she was like yeah I don't like you. He was like okay let me stab you in the throat. She literally was like no I won't make you tea and no you can't have my picture. And he was like murder I guess.
Also, she was so pretty. She really was. Sad. She was gorgeous. Oh, and he was not. And he was not. So I get it. Oh, he has a creepy mustache. He's a worm with a mustache. He is a worm with a mustache. Fuck you, Nels. All right, everybody. Those were some good ass listener tales. Brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you. We had a nice little mishmash. We sure did. You know? So we hope you keep listening. And we hope you keep it. Woo!
But not so weird that you don't keep sending in listener tales to morbidpodcast at gmail.com. XOXO. 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. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.
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