CONTACT USEmail: paranaughtica@gmail.com Twitter: @paranaughtica Facebook: The Paranaughtica PodcastYou can always help us out with financial donations on our Spotify page! A boy is born on the West Coast, He grew up without parents and with family that didn't care at all. The boy had a rough start. But, he also succeeded that not many have ever done in the military - absconded at least three time.Anyway, in his travels that last roughly 17 months, he killed 22 woman and one baby before he got caught by the Canadians. He then escaped.....thice.I don't want to give it all way! Listen to it!!! Sources: 1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earle_Nelson 2. https://www.crimelibrary.org/serial_killers/history/earle_nelson/8.html 3. https://heathermonroe.medium.com/the-prolific-murders-of-earle-nelson-9bbaf3b79fbb 4. https://allthatsinteresting.com/earle-nelson You can always help us out with financial donations on our Spotify page! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
I mean, I know what model trains are, but I'm not sure what you mean by this.
Do you like model trains?
Model trains.
Like, do I like to look at model trains that people have glued together?
No. No, no, no, no, no.
As in, do you like to put them together yourself?
You know, like, go buy a kid, and then you put the little pieces together with dabs of glue.
Oh, man.
No, I don't, man.
Although dabs, I do like dabs.
That's not what I mean, man.
Well, model trains just bore me greatly, dude.
Like, more than greatly.
For the record, I have nothing against anyone who likes to put model trains together and all that exciting stuff.
But I personally find it incredibly boring.
Like, tremendously boring.
You know, I don't even have adequate words to express how boring it really is to me.
That's how boring it is.
Well, I'm glad you don't have adequate words because everything you just said is like a slow knife.
To my heart.
But no, man.
It's fun, dude.
Come on.
It's fun.
Yeah, no.
I love it.
No, it's not fun, my friend.
But to each his own.
You know, you can go build all your model trains if you want.
You know what?
Nah, buddy.
You got it all wrong, man.
Seriously. You should come over this weekend.
We can put a train together.
Piece by piece.
Oh, man.
It's fun.
I'll show you.
I'll go get us a specific engine that is just straight fire, man.
Yeah? Yeah, buddy.
You have a specific engine that's straight fire?
Yes. Yes, I do.
Uh, it's probably gonna be a big no, my friend.
Uh, a big no?
Yeah, man.
Model trains aren't my thing.
I thought you already knew that.
You, the, that day when we, the trains went chugga, chugga, chugga?
What? Look, buddy, I know you get all chubbed up with the trains and all that, but I'm going to pass.
I'm coming over so you can show me how to put a model train together.
We can do anything else.
I'll come over, but we can do anything else but that.
I mean, we could watch Under Siege 2, Dark Territory, while we glue the train pieces together.
Oh, boy.
Yeah, Seagal, you know me.
He's the wild card.
And afterward, if we're done putting the train together as we watch that amazing film, again, I should add.
We can put on the documentary I've been telling you about called Trains, Two Centuries of Innovation.
It's a wonderful telling of what made this country the unstoppable force it once was, man.
That's historical.
Trains. Bro, that's a PBS documentary on the history of America's locomotives, and I am positive that I would barely want to live after watching that.
Again, I should add.
Fine. We don't have to watch anything about trains.
And I don't want to put a model train together, either.
Well... Fine.
Alright, fine.
Good? Yeah.
Okay. Fine.
Good. And we've got a great episode today.
It's about a man named Earl Leonard Farrell Nelson who posthumously holds the title for being the first known serial sex murderer of the 20th century.
Ooh. Yes.
So we're heading back to the 1920s for this one.
Sweet. The roaring 20s.
I love it.
Some of the best times.
Nothing says a better time than probation.
Speakeasies, yeah, dude.
Earl has been officially linked to being the murderer of at least 22 humans, ranging in ages from a baby to the elderly, most of them being middle-aged women who ran boarding houses, and they had rent to just about anyone who needed a place to stay for the short-term or long-term stay, and Earl is suspected of killing and or attacking far more than that 22. Yeah,
because, I mean, it's so hard, especially in that day and age.
To get accurate information.
Now, over a hundred years later, you know.
But, yeah, I'll bet you...
My bet is that he killed way more than that.
But that's just me and the audience.
You know, they'll see.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
They'll see.
But before we get too far into those sheets, Scott, why don't you unveil the Veiled and give our gorgeous listeners what they want before they tear the walls down and have a go at us?
Good call, Coop.
Ladies and gentlemen, young and old.
Tall and short, round and thin, bald and not.
Fix your Velcro straps on those helmets.
Make sure the Velcro mouth guard is securely in, please.
Because I'm about to take us all on a journey through some media headlines before we head back in time to the 1920s.
Are you ready?
I'm ready.
It's time for Trey Portrait.
Zappap... Yeah.
That's just better and better.
It's a flugelhorn.
Absolutely. Well, anyways, this segment of Trey Park Trey is brought to you by us, no less.
Our first story comes to us from www.worble.com out of Alabama, Lee County to be exact, but Smith Station Mayor Bubba Copeland has taken his own life.
Wow. That's crazy.
Yes, the sheriff, the county sheriff, Jones.
Jay Jones, that is.
That's a badass name, by the way.
Jay Jones.
Yeah, he came on and confirmed that the mayor had taken his own life.
He had been the center of some controversy for a little while.
His details about his personal life had been emerging.
And he was also the pastor of First Baptist Church in Phoenix City.
Interesting. Apparently, he had posted some pornographic...
And graphic memes, like pornographic material, explicit photos of himself, and women's clothing.
I mean, the guy is kind of having a bit of a meltdown, right?
I mean, you're throwing this stuff.
You're in a public station.
You're putting this stuff out there for everybody to see.
I mean, what does that say about his mindset to you?
The mayor is putting this stuff out.
That's what it's saying.
It said Copeland.
And then a news site was taking screenshots.
Exactly. Okay.
Exactly right.
Some of his friends contacted the local media, and they were kind of like, yeah, go ahead.
Use his Facebook stuff.
Here it is.
Just kind of exposing it, throwing it all out right now.
And then, of course, trying to distance themselves.
Like, I can't believe he would do this, which that kind of sucks.
Like, shitty friends.
And to clarify, they were spreading photos of him in women's clothing.
Right, right, right.
Yeah. I mean, they were really putting it out there.
But in the end, obviously, I mean, it was just too much for him.
And he took his own life.
They were actually chasing him down.
They were supposed to do a welfare check on him, right?
So the authorities, they see him driving around, his truck matching the description that they were given.
So they're following him on a country road, just kind of in the general area of the store that he owned.
They attempted to pull him over.
And he got out of his truck and just shot himself.
Which, that's insane.
That's so crazy, dude.
Man, that's just not cool that people would just go to the extent like that to oust people like that.
I know.
It makes me wonder what was going on behind the scenes.
Because it couldn't have just been...
These people had to know how he was.
Of course.
So I feel like...
There's some kind of falling out or something, and they're like, you know what, man?
Fuck you!
And then just took all this stuff and just put it out there.
I mean, he's a mayor and a pastor of a Baptist church.
It didn't seem like it came from a place where they were trying to expose some wrongdoer.
It seemed almost like revenge, I think.
Yeah, like they just wanted to put him in the spotlight.
Take him down, basically.
Like, yeah, you're done.
Take him down, yeah.
That's sad.
Pretty crazy.
So, I mean, maybe some more details will emerge, you know, as time goes on, and sort of, like, the whys will become more clear, because it's some vagueness there.
Yeah, I think there's more to the story.
Yeah, this was just posted on the 3rd of November.
Exactly. So the details are still, there's still an investigation ongoing, 100%.
But shocking for the people that knew him as just the mayor, just the pastor.
Like, that's crazy.
But yeah, so speaking of more to the story, this next story comes to us from People.com, one of my favorite websites.
Yeah, definitely.
They love us, too.
Thank you, People.
Thank you, People.
Man gets 100 years for accidentally killing his 8-year-old daughter while trying to shoot his 18-year-old son.
What the fuck?
I'm just going to let that sit because there's a lot to unpack there.
Wow. Okay.
Yeah, that is a lot to unpack.
So a dude gets 100 years.
Yeah. For accidentally killing his eight-year-old daughter while trying to shoot his 18-year-old son.
Yeah. Well, apparently he was firing the shots at the girl's mother.
Wow. And his son.
Jeez. And the article, which was posted also on the 3rd, says that Tony Velez, he's 66 years old, by the way, apparently flew into a rage.
He thought he was being kicked out of the house.
So he opened fire.
At the girl's mom and his son and instead hit his 8-year-old daughter.
So sad.
That is horrible, man.
Yeah. I mean, that's horrible in so many ways.
He's trying to shoot at his wife and his son.
Exactly. And then he accidentally shoots the girl.
That is just so, so fucked.
So he grabbed a gun from his bedroom, started shooting.
He told police that he shot his partner.
Heather Hall, until she fell to the ground.
So he admitted this.
Then he began shooting at his son, missed, shot his daughter in the back as she was trying to run away.
So he opens fire in front of his young daughter.
You know, she was actually struck by one of the bullets, causing her to fall off the deck.
She was pronounced dead at the hospital.
But, ugh, absolutely terrible.
Velez's attorney asked for only a 40-year sentence, and the judge was like, nope, I am giving you 100 years for sure.
Crazy, man.
It says he felt justified in trying to shoot his partner and son.
I don't know how you'd feel justified.
Sam, yeah, what's the justification there?
And it just says he thought he was being kicked out of the house.
It didn't say they were actually kicking him out of the house.
That's another part.
Maybe the details aren't there.
But anyway, the guy was unbalanced as it is.
His first thought for that kind of conflict isn't, well, I'm going to go to the attorney and try to get the...
He just grabs his gun and starts opening fire.
Now he'll be eligible for parole when he's 91 years old.
He did apologize for his actions in court, but...
He took an eight-year-old life, and it's too late.
Yeah, you can't bring Ariana back.
It's so sad.
But you know what?
He's got to live with that in prison, because he didn't want to kill his daughter, dude.
No, of course not.
So he's going to be sitting in prison for the rest of his life.
Knowing that.
Yeah. That's true.
Yeah, that's going to be crushing.
Absolutely crushing.
As much as, you know, I don't appreciate his actions and all that, but...
It's just to think about where he's gonna be, you know, to put yourself in those shoes and like, holy fuck, man.
Like, I killed my daughter and now I'm in prison for the rest of my life.
Like, that is hard.
That is hard time.
That is hard time.
Yeah, I'm not saying I would wish that circumstance on anybody.
Definitely. But it is what it is.
It is what it is.
I mean, he did the action.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Speaking of doing the actions, this last article of Trey for Trey today comes to us from People.com as well.
Also out of Alabama.
That's two from Alabama.
I like that.
I like that.
Let's be hanging out in Alabama.
Alabama's a place to go, I guess.
Mom killed by boyfriend in murder-suicide.
Ten-year-old son seriously wounded trying to protect her.
Yeah. Imagine that.
So I don't want to go to Alabama.
Yeah. I change everything I just said.
This is a lot of weird stuff going on.
Apparently, this woman was 38 years old.
Her name is Ashley Lynn.
Her boyfriend, who was 40, a guy named Christopher Narmore, he died by suicide, but he did kill her first.
Whoa. The crazy part is that...
Her 10-year-old son, Cason, and this is cited by the principal, he was shot in the face and the arm as he was trying to protect her.
Wow. So he jumped in.
He saw this happening, saw the argument, the escalation going on.
He jumps in the way.
The boyfriend goes for the gun.
Holy shit.
And he actually got into a tussle.
The 10-year-old.
I mean, this kid is young.
Yes. But he raised his arm up.
And that's the boyfriend shot the juvenile, then he shot the mom, and then he killed himself.
I mean, absolutely insane.
Wow. He was conscious when medics arrived.
That's the son, by the way.
But he's had two surgeries.
He's in stable condition.
The doctors were able to save the arm.
They got the lead out of his face.
It was a shotgun.
Okay, I was gonna ask.
Is it a shotgun?
That's what I thought it was.
Yeah, it was a shotgun.
So, I mean...
As shitty as that is, it actually probably saved his life.
That's the type of gun that it was.
Man, I wonder how close they were.
I'd have been pretty fucking close, right?
Yeah, yeah, seriously.
This kid didn't even think.
He just jumps in the way and he's like, no!
I mean, that's intense, bro.
Dude, that kid.
I want to meet this kid.
Me too.
I think he's probably going to be a hero.
Yeah, absolutely.
I mean, he had to watch all this go down, so he's going to be pretty messed up.
But what a beast.
Like, that guy's got makings of a hero, this kid, you know?
Terrible stuff, man.
Yeah, absolutely.
It's just one of those things that it sucks because there's no criminal to prosecute since the perpetrator took his own life.
But, yeah, you know, at least the kid at this young age has a long time to maybe find help, move past this.
I mean, if this happens when you're...
If it happens later on in life, this is the point I'm trying to make.
If this happens when you're 40, your parents are older, you've lived a little bit of life, and yes, you have more experience, but the odds of you bouncing back probably aren't good.
No, probably not.
Because you don't have a whole lot of time left.
Now, if you're 10, that's a long time to pick your path.
A lot of time to meet different people who might help straighten that out inside of you.
So, you know, I mean, yes, it's a young, tender age.
He's traumatized at that time as well.
But, you know, maybe, who knows?
I mean, if he was strong enough to stand up and say, no, raise his hand, try to save his mom, he might be strong enough to come back from this.
I think he will.
You know.
I think he's going to live a good life, man.
At least I hope so.
I hope he does.
Make something of himself.
Me too.
I really hope so.
Good luck, Cason.
Thinking about you, man.
You got it, Cason.
Keep your head up, buddy.
Bounce back strong, buddy.
Best of luck.
Best of luck.
Well, and that rounds out our last story in this week's episode of Trey!
Portrait! Portrait!
Oh, wait.
First, before we do that, in the spirit of your last week's Mad Lib, which I personally loved, and we did hear from a couple viewers, they liked it too.
They were like, oh, Mad Libs!
Everybody likes a good Mad Libs.
Mad Libs are sweet.
So we're going to do that again.
So, Coop, I'm going to need from you, right at this time, just the name of a person.
We're going to start simple.
What's the name of the frickin' Scientology dinosaur?
Oh, Ron, whatever.
L. Ron Hubbard?
No, not the man.
The creature that lives in the volcano or in the Earth.
Fuck. Xenu.
Xenu! Yeah, X-E-N-U.
All right, Xenu.
I'm going to type that out, too.
Xenu, God of Scientology.
This is going to start out very strange.
Perfect. And then just one noun, and we'll leave it there.
Just give me a noun.
Yeah, give me a noun.
Let's go with a...
Many old noun.
A studded butt plug.
Wow, jeez.
Studded butt plug.
All right.
I hear they're on sale.
They are, yeah.
Two for once.
Anyways, thanks for obliging, Coop.
This is going to be an interesting one.
We're starting out strong.
This is going to be good.
I think this is going to be a great Mad Lib.
And we're just going to read at the very end, huh?
Yep, at the very end, just like last time.
All right, on with the story.
On with the story.
Here we go.
Earl Leonard Nelson was born Earl Leonard Farrell on May 12, 1897.
The last name Farrell is a derivative of Farrell, or to be wild or untamed.
Which would make sense as we go through the story.
The name would actually be the one thing that his father would leave him before he died.
Sounds like quite the family weight to be passing on from father to son.
Yeah, let me just give you this one.
Wild. Wild and Untamed.
That's my boy.
That's my boy.
Earl would later drop that last name, of course.
But he was born in San Francisco, California to Francis Nelson.
His mother, who was from Iowa with Danish and Irish descent, and his father, James Carlos Farrell, was of Jewish ancestry.
And for two years, Francis and James would raise little Earl as best they could at the turn of the 20th century.
The family wasn't rich, but they made ends meet as best they could and would provide Earl with the necessary essentials.
Unfortunately, when Earl was only two years old, both of his parents would succumb to the horrors of syphilis, which was a thriving venereal disease in those days.
When his parents died, little Earl would then be taken care of by his maternal grandparents.
And I should point out that in the year 1900 in San Francisco, the bubonic plague reared its ugly face.
It first struck Honolulu, Hawaii in 1889, which they say came from Asia.
Then it hit California in 1900, and the federal government put the entire place under quarantine, and it would go on to officially kill between 119 and 122 people, with between two and four survivors.
So, not only were the people in danger of contracting syphilis, which was huge, they were having to dip and dive and tuck and roll just to avoid the bubonic plague as well.
That's absolutely crazy, man.
Like, you're still at a time where people aren't as protected.
Hell no.
Their immune systems aren't as bolstered, and stuff like that's coming around, you're hearing about it, like suddenly people, like, a couple neighborhoods over are dropping dead, and you're like, oh my...
God, I'm not even going to go to the store, man.
Yeah, dude.
Just going to sit here and eat my own hair or something.
Well, that's the best thing you can do.
But, I mean, there was also influenza.
True. That killed so many people.
Spanish flu.
And tuberculosis.
Polio. So much shit happening this time, right?
Absolutely. So now, two-year-old little Earl is being raised by his grandparents on his mother's side.
Their names were Lars and Jenny Nelson.
And they were a couple of hardcore Pentecostals, probably the most hardcorest of all Pentecostals.
They would raise little Earl as a third child since they already had two young children of their own, Willis, who was 12, and Lillian, who was 10. And for those who don't know, Pentecostals are a Christian sect and believe that baptism in the Holy Spirit enables them to live a Spirit-filled and empowered life.
And the empowerment aspect of it includes the use of spiritual gifts like blessings and the such.
And empowerment also includes divine healing, such as the practice of prayer and gesturing, which are believed to elicit divine intervention.
And empowerment also includes what is most likely the most metal of all divine practices.
Speaking in tongues.
Oh, man.
This is what separates the profane and the godly.
It's literally the language of the holy.
For only the holy can understand what is being said through the speaking of tongues.
Very correcto.
And speaking in tongues is also known by something much more badass-er.
It's called glossolalia.
And I think we might have touched on that in a previous episode from way back.
I think you're right.
Glossolalia. Yeah, I seem to remember that.
And labias and gentleworms, we tried to get some authentic recordings from various televangelists who are truly heavy in the glossolalia, but none of them would get back to us with any peaceful words to share.
Yeah, honestly, they were pretty abrasive.
Abrasive but accurate, I should add.
Can't say they didn't hit it right on the nose, so to speak.
Accurate enough.
But don't worry, everyone.
We might not have an actual recording of some authentic glossolalia, but, but, dear listeners, we do have some live authentic glossolalia to give to you today.
It's true, folks.
And I will be providing the examples for today's show.
This is excellent.
That's so excellent.
Thank you for stepping up to the plate and taking this position, Scott.
So, Scott, why don't you go ahead and give the listeners some of that hard-hitting glass of lullia that's such a hot topic right now with all the young and hip kids, which is spreading through the streets quicker than gonorrhea.
Absolutely. I'd love to do that.
So this one's called My Tongue Will Sing Aloud of Your Righteousness.
All right.
Are you ready?
I love this one.
Are you ready for this one?
Yes. That was great.
What do you think?
It's very efficient.
That's the thing people don't realize.
It's very efficient.
Did you get what I said?
Yeah, dude.
But I will meet you at that place another time.
Another time.
It's a really good one.
Sweet, dog.
That's a really good one.
I love that one.
But do that other one.
It's called I Will Sing of Your Strength.
Okay, yeah, that's a good one.
It goes like this.
Meshamahala. Meshamahala.
Thanks, man.
I appreciate that.
I'm serious.
You can't make it up.
It is what it is.
It is what it is.
And just remember, only the holy can understand what's being said.
But yeah, that's a really good one, Coop.
But I really like this next one.
It's called Singing Sustains in Suffering, actually.
Wow. Man, that is excellent stuff.
Really fantastic work.
And I'm sure the fans loved it wholly and wholeheartedly.
I think so, too.
And an interesting note about it.
And we do kind of, you know, we have the circumstances going on here, but if one studies the passages where it talks about speaking in tongues, there will only ever be one person speaking, and this is if it's actually truly done right and correctly,
one person interpreting.
So when you have these huge meetings where a bunch of people are speaking in tongues and everyone's like, oh, I can hear what they're saying!
Technically, how that's supposed to work.
Interesting. Anyways, just a little side note there.
Can I try?
Can I try?
Sure. Yeah, sure.
I'll be the interpreter.
Give me one to do.
Why don't you do Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil for you are by my side.
Let's see if you got that one.
That's a hard one.
I'm not an expert.
I'm not proficient in speaking in tongues, but I'm going to give this a shot.
Give it a go.
This is my go.
Was that good?
You nailed it, dude.
I'm going to be honest.
Word for word.
That's pretty much verbatim.
That takes a lot of effort.
I'm sweating beads.
You don't look so good, either.
That took everything out of me.
You might be messing with things that we don't understand.
Go get the salt.
We have to do some fucking...
Some safety thing, get the smudging sticks out.
Somebody got some incense up in here?
Get some incense?
Wayne! Wayne Dale, get over here.
Get those incense.
Get those incense, dog.
The salt-smelling ones smell like sea salt.
So yeah, it's my favorite incense.
So yeah, Little Earl was raised in that life.
Just people speaking in tongues all around him at all times.
And took the Bible and all things Pentecostal directly to the heart.
And some say that his grandparents and that side of the family were fanatical with their religious beliefs and behaviors.
And as true as it may have been, what's important is that little Earl would follow suit, but to a further extent.
Everyone around him started to find the little bugger to be rather odd in his ways, a bit of a loner and even morbid.
I'm not sure what they meant by morbid.
But given the times, the early 19th century, morbid could have literally meant anything.
For sure.
Like, oh wow, look at that rubbish pile over there.
Looking pretty fresh.
Come here and let me get some of that.
Looks totally morbid.
Yeah, that's pretty morbid.
Salivating. And it could literally have been anything.
I mean, stealing his friend's dirty knickers from clotheslines and, you know, wiping back to front.
And reach-arounds.
I don't think reach-arounds would have ever been morbid, honestly.
I think those have just been appreciated for all time.
Pretty standard.
Yeah, it's a standard issue.
Yeah, you're right.
You join the army, you get your boots, you get your badge, you get your reach-around.
Jokes, man.
Just joking.
A little humor.
Earl's grandmother was rather distant in his upbringing as she was a very busy woman.
This is not to say that she abandoned him.
It's just that she was also out there clocking that time card and raising two other children.
And the biggest thing for the poor woman was that little Earl was a handful to deal with.
And like most kids, he was pretty hyperactive.
But unlike most kids, he would suddenly become profoundly depressed and so utterly loathsome that you'd think he was possessed by the laziest demons.
And this...
As we theorize now, was a burgeoning sign of having a bipolar disorder.
At the time, you know, people didn't know what that was.
They just thought someone was moody.
Right. You know, or possessed.
Or possessed.
Manic, and then sad.
But it was either moody or demons.
And that's just kind of...
How it was back then.
That would have been so rough, man.
To have some bipolar disorder, just the rollercoaster.
Yeah, absolutely.
You don't even know why.
You don't know why you're feeling this way.
You didn't, like, set out to have a bad day, but you just do.
And people are like, he's got the devil in him!
Yep. Stone him.
But, and our little Earl gave very little attention to his hygiene.
As in, he rarely ever bathed or washed himself in any way.
But it wasn't just his hygiene that he didn't care about.
He also didn't care about his behavior or his manners in general.
And Scott, I was thinking about this just now.
You know those hardcore metal shows and how they dress up with the face paints and stuff?
You know that?
Face paints and metal shows and you have those metal...
Yeah, yeah.
I know a little thing about that.
And you have those metalcore air guitar conferences and competitions and all this shit.
You know?
You've seen a few of those.
You've been to a couple of those.
Well, think about this.
Metalcore Glossolalia competition.
Just hammering out bangers left and right.
You know what I mean?
That would definitely be taking it to the next level.
You got the shredder in the background.
And you just...
Metalcore Glossolalia.
Someone just going crazy, dude.
Just bananas.
That's sick.
Just imagine walking in.
The show's been going on for a couple hours, and you're late, and you walk in, and you're just seeing the act on stage, and everyone's nodding like, yeah!
And you just walk into that, and you're like, I might go.
Oh, man.
I might head out.
That is sick.
Just imagine the mosh pits.
You've got all the pastors up there.
I might leave.
Turn around, go get a bagel.
Yeah. So the biographer Harold Schechter, who has written a bunch of fantastic books on true crime, including this case we're talking about, said that what was perhaps the stranger habits that Earl had was when he would be at the dinner table eating.
And here's a quote from Harold's book.
At dinner, he would drench his food in olive oil, put his face to the plate, and slurp up his meal like a caged beast at feeding time.
Much to the disgust of his little table mates and his Uncle William and Aunt Lillian.
Bro, that is disgusting.
That's all I have to say about that.
I love olive oil.
If I saw someone drench their food in olive oil, I like it.
I mean, I don't love it, but I couldn't imagine, like, soaking my meal and then eating it, like, without my hands.
No, that's just weird, man.
I will say this.
He had some really nice stools to pass, though.
You know, those things just came out.
Yeah, ghosts.
You know, like the non-wipers?
Yeah, he didn't have to wipe at all.
You're just like, wow, it's gonna be a good day.
Saved a lot of money in toilet paper.
It just came out like a potato gun.
Little hairspray in the back.
Anyway, sadly, his older siblings would regularly taunt him and call him a savage animal.
And in the household, he had no one to actually connect to.
It's super sad.
And there were no, you know, because there were no similar age kids around and everyone else was significantly older than him.
And he just couldn't bond with anyone.
He was alone in his own little world.
Plus, he was strange and different.
Yeah. And so, you know, the people that were around him were like, I'm just going to let him do that.
And I'm going to be over here with the cool kids.
Cool kids.
I was never a cool kid.
I don't know what that's like.
Yeah. I was out of that.
As I mentioned earlier.
Olive oil.
As I mentioned earlier, Earl was very religious and became obsessed over everything he read in the Bible and started to have an infatuation, specifically with the book of Revelations in the Bible.
We hear that a lot.
And as we've seen time and again, mental health problems and religion often snowball into some seriously bad shit if left unaddressed.
Yeah, because this kid's obviously, you know, he's got some afflictions, right?
Then he's...
Reaching out, trying to find, you know, what do I do?
What's the meaning of life, right?
Picks, arguably, one of the darkest parts of the Bible.
And then just fanaticizes over it.
Goes balls deep into it.
Good luck.
Into his grandmother's disappointment.
Earl would often return home from school with ragged-ass clothes that were in far worse shape than the fresh outfits his grandmother would prepare him for each morning before he went off to school.
It was as if he would go find the kid with the worst-looking, most worn-down digs and trade his own clothes with them.
Which, I mean, you know, if that's truly the case, at least he's giving nice clothes to someone who needs them.
You could look at it that way.
That's what I was thinking.
Good for him.
He wasn't materialistic.
Exactly. I don't need this.
Someone else could use this.
I don't need this.
By grade 7. It was blatantly obvious that this kid had some behavioral issues that were preventing him from moving forward with graduating with class.
The teachers also complained that Earl would sit in class and talk to invisible people, and while doing that, he would also speak aloud and quote verses from the Bible which mentioned a great beast, which could have been Lucifer, Baphomet, or Baal, or who knows, really.
He was probably reading Crowley's The Book of the Law, or some lost esoteric literature, or something like that.
Right, that's what I'm thinking.
He's just reading all these really gnarly religious and occult texts.
Blowing his mind to pieces.
And he's like, understanding every word.
Everyone else is like, like boogers.
And he's just like, casting spells and shit.
All the meaning of a cult.
Yeah, yeah.
He's like, all of you mortals will suffer my wrath.
So, the school can't handle the kid.
He's not progressing anywhere.
They have no ultimatum other than to kick this kid out of the Aguizis Primary School in San Francisco in the 7th grade.
Well, what's a kid to do?
You know?
Well, yeah, I mean, now that he didn't have to go to school, and he had all that extra time pouring from his idle hands, which always becomes the devil's playground.
What? No, no, no.
That's where Susie and her five sisters live, nice and comfortably.
Oh, yeah, right, and their five girlfriends that live in a trap house across the street.
Oh, yeah, you know.
And then things started to progress in a bit of a worse way.
Little Earl would start to secretly watch his cousin Rachel undress and presumably bathe.
And it's likely that his behavior as well dug in before he was 86 from school.
Yeah, that's a troubling, you know, once any adults or any other person, really, if it was a kid his own age, reports something like that, things are going to change quickly.
Oh yeah, you know.
And he was also regularly partaking in a lot of people's favorite pastimes, such as stealing trivial items from the struggling old shopkeepers.
Ooh, man.
Shoelaces for the boys.
You know what I mean?
Buttercream gang?
Huh? Bro, BCG for the life.
Loved that shit.
Yeah, dude, I'd say the 90s were the golden years, you know, of Hollyweird.
Huh? Hollyweird?
Oh, yeah, dude.
I hell agree to that statement.
158%. The best movies, best music, best commercials, dog.
Comedy, best cartoons.
Yeah, everything was always like, yo, listen up.
Buy these pants.
They're the coolest pants that you could ever have.
Oh, gonna eat the cereal.
It's Captain Crunch.
Whoa, Mom, that looks amazing.
Get your Captain Crunch cereal, kids.
Yeah, it was all just wild colors.
It's the best.
Yeah, just like crazy colors.
Like the kids are wearing like backwards hats and like gloves without the fingers.
JNCOs. You know?
Yeah, dude.
JNCOs. I love the JNCOs.
I miss those times, bro.
I miss those times.
The 90s had it all, dude.
The best of the best.
So, at the ripe old age of 10, little Earl was out showing off to some of the older boys on his bicycle that his uncle had given to him.
And this was nothing new to him.
He had been shredding the bicycle a lot lately and was super confident in his athletic abilities, which is super fucking rad in my book.
And as he was ripping up some wheelies and laying rubber all over the place, a moment came when he was attempting to outrace himself.
And this is when the ultimate panic set in.
Not for him, but for those around him.
You see, as he had his head down by the handlebars with a mad grip on the bars, elbows out and up, And his ass raised higher than his head, just getting the aerodynamics on point, a fierce streetcar would suddenly whip around a corner and spot the little cycling madman taking all of the attention.
Uh-oh.
Oh, no!
And this would be what could perhaps have been the defining moment between whether Earl would turn out to be one of the world's worst American serial killers, or yet just another amazingly normal person.
And the streetcar would somehow hit Little Earl.
Or Little Earl hit the car.
It's uncertain.
But what is not uncertain is that Little Earl was severely injured and bled profusely through a solid hole in his temple.
And as he laid there in the street, other kids continued with their wheel trundling and playing jacks off to the side as they watched the boys' blood pool in the street.
And it would take a little bit of time, but an ambulance of the times would show up and promptly rush little Earl to a hospital of the times.
So just one more time, for, you know, frame of reference sake, what year is it at this point?
Yeah, so it's like 1907, I think.
So Earl was all fucked up but survives after being in a coma for about a week.
Even though the little rapscallion survived such a gut-wrenching head wound, he would end up suffering from massive headaches and memory problems for the rest of his life.
Many say that it was due to this head wound that later in life would cause Earl to commit such heinous crimes all over the United States and parts of Canada, leading to the murders of 22 people and probably many more.
Yeah, I think it's safe to say that he survived, yes, but...
Did he make it back?
I don't think so.
I think a solid hole in your temple and a little bit of brain damage is going to cause some issues.
It could change some things.
Yeah. Yeah, it could change some things.
Shake things around.
But Scott, two years after the April 18th, 1906 earthquake that devastated San Francisco in which he and his family survived, which is like a whole other horror story, right?
That's insane.
Yep. Totally.
His grandmother would pass away.
The woman who basically raised him.
So then it came to his aunt Lillian to take over the responsibility for the care of her nephew, which she wasn't ecstatic about, but he was family and nobody else is going to do it.
So let's just fast forward a few years until little Earl would be old enough to get in the job market, right?
So it'd be during this time that he would have no trouble landing his first position or his second or his third or his fourth or any subsequent position that he would acquire down his dark path.
And the only reason that he was losing his jobs is because his employer would soon catch on to Earl's very strange and peculiar behavior coupled with the fact that he was pretty damned lazy.
Other times, he would simply do whatever job needed to be done at a job site, say in construction.
And he would do this one job that he was told to do.
No matter if it took him two hours, three hours, four hours, he would just do the job and then just bounce out and just go home.
Like, I'm out of here.
That's absolutely crazy.
Could you imagine, like, you go to work at a pizza place, you're starting your shift, you got an eight-hour shift to do, you make one pie, and then you're like, all right, guys, thank you, good job, see you later.
Take off the apron, just head out.
Yeah, just set everything down, brush the flour off.
Where the hell did he go?
He made one pizza.
That's what he would do, man.
He would just do the one job and just bounce and then get fired.
And just as he did when he was a little boy.
He would leave home or work in one set of clothes, but return in an entirely different set of clothes.
Earl was also a violent little boy, and this violence would only fester and grow as he himself would grow.
Even as Aunt Lillian, who treated him the best, was awfully afraid of the blossoming teenager.
The rest of the family shared the same sentiments.
It would later come out that little Earl had been a compulsive masturbator starting from when he was a very young boy.
And only progressing as he got older.
Well, I mean, who isn't afflicted that way, right?
Exactly. I mean, come on, man.
I'm only putting this in here because this is what everyone else talks about.
Okay. I personally have no problem with people mad.
Go masturbate.
Fucking masturbate more than you are now.
You know what I mean?
Just get them out, man.
I just feel like it's like saying, oh, and by the way, the sky was blue and there was air outside that people were breathing.
Yeah, exactly, dude.
I mean...
Yeah, you're saying this young guy was masturbating a lot?
Like, yeah, okay.
What young guy doesn't?
What else is there?
Any man, even woman, who says they don't masturbate?
Nah, shut up.
Shut up.
You know you masturbate.
Come on, man.
You know you do.
Shut up.
Do you know what I mean?
They say they don't masturbate because you'll go blind?
Because of all the keratin that is apparently in your sperm and it takes it away from your eyes?
Wow. I got 2020, let me tell you.
So you don't masturbate.
You never masturbate, man.
You gotta let one out.
Just been edging for 36 years.
Yeah, well, it's either that or murdering.
True. Jokes.
Masturbate, masturbate, masturbate.
But I can't help but imagine that Earl was using, you know, he was probably experimenting with all sorts of lubricants, like engine oil, transmission oil.
Whatever else he gets hands on.
Yeah, just like the residue in a can of Spam.
Something like that.
Yeah, dude.
Throw a banana peel in a microwave.
I mean, you know, you get experimental when you're that age.
Yeah, that's a good idea.
I have bananas here.
I'm going to try that.
So Earl would later self-report that he had a sexual appetite unlike that of any other sentient man, meaning that he was ready to spray his seed at any given notice, at any time of the day, with any woman.
Under any circumstances, he just goes off like a fire extinguisher.
And when he was around the age of 15, he started to frequent the sex workers down by the Fisherman's Wharf.
And you can't sit there and tell me that there is a better place to hide some sex work going on than down there at the Fisherman's Wharf on a balmy Sunday afternoon.
That's like where it all comes from, right?
That was like the origin, I want to say.
That's where we transition from sea animals to land-walking animals.
Yeah! That's the missing link.
Yeah, they're like, oh, we can tell somewhere in the pre-Cambrian era there was an explosion in the diversity of life.
We don't know why.
Well, they all started jacking off.
That's what happened.
Down at Fisherman's Wharf.
Down by the wharf.
Yeah, down by the wharf.
And another trait that Earl had as a child and followed him into adolescence and probably further on was a tendency to fall into deep daydreams where there was no line between fantasy and reality, the two blending perfectly together.
It would be around this time, when he was around 15, 16, that he started to really pound back some cold ones, or lukewarm ones, or any stragglers.
Chew, spit, and all.
It didn't matter.
He was down to get his drink on whenever he could.
He would often disappear from wherever he was supposed to be, or expected to be, for a number of days just binge drinking and getting cray-cray white girl wasted.
Oh, yeah, dude.
Just grabbing the wine cooler is like, Hey!
Get off of me!
Don't touch me!
Chugging, yeah, chugging wine coolers.
Don't touch me.
Or the opposite.
Or the opposite.
Touch me!
Why aren't you touching me?
Meet me at Fisherman's Wharf.
Meet me at Fisherman's Wharf.
That's what she said.
As things progressed, so did his conversations with invisible people, some being his friends, others being his enemies.
He would also walk around the house on his hands and annoy the shit out of everyone.
Dang it, Earl.
Quit walking on your hands again.
Hey, look at this.
I swear, Earl, you stop that right now before you hit that vase.
What was that, Aunt Lillian?
It was a vase, and I told you to stop already before you break.
What was that, Lily?
God damn it, Earl.
Oh, wow.
I can't believe I'm still walking on my hands.
Look, Aunt Lily.
I'll walk over here like this.
Hey, Lily.
You watching, Lily?
No, don't.
No, Earl, stop.
Aunt Lillian.
What? What was that sound?
You little son of a bitch.
So aside from being all weird and talking to invisible people who may or may not have been there, we don't know, but he would also frequently come home all beat up, bashed and bruised like he'd been in a rough fight, but he'd never talk about it.
The time came when Earl was getting to be a little bit too much and Lillian felt it was unsafe for him to be there around not only her two children, but herself as well.
I believe she wanted to confront him and ask him to leave, but before she did...
Earl took matters into his own hands because in the spring of 1915, he would leave his Aunt Lillian's house and head up around Northern California to engage in some illegal activity.
Well, I mean, let's be honest, there's no better place for it.
That's true.
And apparently, when Earl would leave and not return for days on end, he was out robbing people's homes and shit.
And on one such occasion, he headed into the woods and located what he thought was an abandoned cabin.
Ooh, you little rat bastard.
Yeah. Gotcha now!
He would break into it with the intention to take whatever was of value.
Unfortunately for him, the owner and a few of his buddies would arrive at the cabin and see this person run out of the cabin and off into the woods.
The owner and his friends would track Earl down, which was incredibly easy given his horrible hygiene.
And for this crime, he was convicted of burglary.
Earl was only a smidgen older than 18 and would be sentenced to two years at San Quentin Prison in California.
While there, he would become San Quentin's poster child for the first ever model inmate.
Whoa. Hey, you know they had famed landscape photographer Ansel Adams in there to do the first ever prison calendar centerfolds, huh?
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
And Earl was the face of every month.
Yeah, right.
Just different poses each time, like different amounts of torn clothing, like all the other inmates around him kept getting these awesome clothes and he would just keep the shitty ones.
Shackles and chains just draped over the beds and shit.
In actuality, if San Quentin did anything for Earl, it was anything but rehabilitate him.
He was released an even angrier man filled with more spite than ever before, much like Carl Panzram, who, by the way, was operating around the same time and who would admit to killing at least 21 people himself, as well as more than 1,000 acts of sodomy
on helpless victims before he was executed in 1936.
1,000 acts of sodomy on helpless?
Dude, victims?
I know.
That's crazy, dude.
You could not bend over around that guy.
Like, no way.
I don't think you had to bend over, man.
Probably. Like, whoa.
The dude, he was cruising trains all the time, and he would just full-on rape all the train riders.
Like, he didn't give a fuck who you were.
He would fucking do you, man.
Damn. It was a gnarly dude.
That's insane.
Yeah. Yeah, we'll definitely have to do an episode on him.
He fits the bill, so to speak.
Anyway, let's get back to the story.
When Earl gets out of San Quentin, what does Earl do?
Well, I would imagine he'd have some pent-up feelings at this point, so I'm gonna bet he kills his first victim.
No. Oh, interesting.
Yeah, he would go to join the U.S. Army under his legal name, Earl Farrell.
Oh, well, that's not what I was expecting at all.
Yeah, so there he was, living the dream of the military life in the 1920s somewhere in California.
On one particular night, a very cold night, he had orders to stand guard, orders that he inherently knew that he could not do.
Earl stood there for a few moments, and when he knew the coast was clear, he took off, abandoned his post.
From there...
And going AWOL, or absent without official leave, he decides he should head off to Salt Lake City, Utah, where he thought he could become a chameleon and blend in with the Mormons and assimilate into their community without them taking notice.
Just shows up like, hey guys, I've been here the whole time.
Like, come on, man.
Hey, let's go to the temple.
They're like, um, okay.
Yeah, but the problem wasn't that the Mormons didn't accept him into their brethren.
It was that Earl himself didn't have the Amish butterballs to live that life.
So he once again started kicking rocks.
I mean, you know, he displayed that same behavior really early on.
He could not stick to anything, right?
He always had to be doing something different.
He could do it once, and then he'd be like, I'm done.
I can't do this anymore.
And he'd head off and do something else.
So it's just following him to his later life.
He kicks rocks off to the U.S. Navy recruiting office in San Francisco.
And without any issues with the name, because he re-enlisted using his legal last name, Nelson, instead of Farrell, he would be accepted into the Navy where he was assigned to be a cook.
He took this position for just over an entire month.
A whole month, Scott, before he again went AWOL.
And why do you think he couldn't handle being stuck on a boat with 60 or whatever other hot and sweaty guys in the 1920s?
Boy. When you put it like that, I really don't know.
Why would you want to leave?
Earl would retreat back to the Bay Area in San Francisco and gather his bearings, which wouldn't take long because within no time, he was again back in the military, but this time as a medical corpsman.
Whoa, what the hell?
Yeah, man, this guy.
But like the two other times he joined the military, this, too, proved to be too much for the guy, and he deserted once again.
Apparently... He gave a reason for his desertion, and author Harold Schechter would recount that reason.
He said that Earl Leonard Nelson deserted again because, quote-unquote, the burning about his anus bothered him.
Wow. Um, well, I guess...
I mean, you know, if that's true.
You gotta give the guy points for being honest, right?
I guess.
I mean, yeah.
But how many other guys' anuses were burning and they stayed?
I mean, true.
You know, I guess he's, yeah.
I didn't really think about it like that.
But that's a good point.
I mean, we can't say that he's the only one on this boat of 60-plus men with a burning anus.
We can't rule it out.
He's the only one that...
No, you're absolutely right.
Yeah. Yeah, you're absolutely right.
He's the only one complaining.
Couldn't handle it, man.
He's just like, I'm out.
But it was around this same time that Earl's mental health was taking a steady decline.
But it didn't stop him from returning to the one place he'd think you wouldn't go after having issues with the vicious burning about the anus.
The Navy.
Now that he's back in the Navy, he feels like things are going great.
Except he refuses to work.
At all.
He just wants to lay around and read the Bible and prophesize about the looming apocalypse that was sure to come at any moment.
His superiors found this to be quite troubling.
But they did commend the man for his dutiful efforts to fulfill maximum laziness while on active duty in the Navy, on a boat.
But ultimately, his superiors also saw that his mental health was something else.
And so, they had him committed to the Napa State Mental Hospital.
At the time, he was 18 or 19 years old.
Whoa, that's crazy.
So, they were like, you know what?
This guy's not right.
And then they had him forcefully committed.
That's crazy.
Yeah, bro, his superior's in the Navy.
Yeah. You are going to.
Nope, you're not going anywhere, home skillet.
You come right back here.
And at this point, while committed, he would gleefully admit that he was masturbating daily between the ages of 13 and 18, but then suddenly went silent and added a cough, and went on to say that he had not been masturbating with such fierce frequency since then.
And then he coughed again.
Comments? Scott, I see your face over there and it's just a mix of a dead stare and one of those sideways smiles like you can't make up your mind on a major life decision.
What's going on?
I just, you know, like his description about this, I'm like, what's weird about that?
That's all I have to say about it.
What's weird?
Yeah, times are different, man.
Daily? Masturbating was seen as a mental disorder back in the day.
I suppose.
I suppose.
Yeah, remember that picture I showed you?
It was, like, in a medical book from, like, the 1800s, and it was that normal-looking guy.
Oh, yeah.
The masturbator.
And then the masturbator, and he was just, like, drooling.
His eyes are all crossed.
He was, like, missing teeth.
Yeah, yeah.
He was all sallow and, like, sucked up.
Yeah, dude.
That's what happens when you masturbate.
It was a mental disorder.
also admitted, this Earl fella, that he was an alcoholic but had not had a drink in the last seven months.
The nurses at the hospital would then take blood samples and after they tested them, they found that Earl had not only a little bit of gonorrhea
Well, so, I mean, already, from the get-go, like, the reasons for his craziness are starting to make sense, right?
Because syphilis, as people well know these days, eventually will...
Get you.
It'll make you go crazy.
It will mess your brain up.
Absolutely. And man, have you seen pictures?
Syphilis messes you up, dude.
Syphilis is gnarly.
Because there are a bunch of different strains of it.
Oh yeah, the mental problem is the least.
Yeah. Oh man, that is some ugly stuff.
Anyway. Speaking of which, this is a good time for me to ask you for a superlative ending in est.
A superlative ending in est.
Okay. Let's go horniest.
Oh, man.
That's what talking about syphilis does to you.
All right.
Syphilis turns me on.
Let's get a noun as well while we're on the subject.
Let's get a noun.
Yeah, a noun.
Let's go thigh gap.
All right.
All right.
And then, while I got you here, and I know probably what you're going to say, but let's get a body part from you as well.
Oh, body part.
Ah, let's see.
That's a good one.
That's a good one.
Let's just go with the labias.
Okay. All right.
Back to the story.
Back to the story.
Earl would spend a total of 13 months at Napa State Hospital, but he had also escaped three times.
After his first unsuccessful attempt, he didn't gain much fanfare.
Which is what it's all about out there in those state hospitals.
Oh yeah, it's all about that clout.
Yeah, man, exactly.
You're right.
But check this out.
Earl tried a second escape attempt and everyone was standing around with anticipation dripping down their cracks.
But again, he was recaptured.
And those drenched cracks were for naught.
Uh, yeah, he's not very good at getting away.
Definitely. But then Earl would be gifted a name from the other patients.
He was given the name Houdini.
Well, I don't know.
I'm no expert in magic and all, but I don't think Houdini did a horrible job at his tricks.
He had no problem escaping.
And then you have Earl here, our little Earl, and he's failed literally every attempt at any trick he's tried to lay down.
Probably not a very apt nickname.
You're right, man.
You are right.
He's at 100% fail rate.
But Earl would attempt a third escape.
And this time, he was successful.
Well, alright.
I guess if you keep trying, you might eventually get it.
Try until you get it.
Try until you succeed.
So part of his success was due to the medical staff just not giving enough fucks to go track him down the third time.
It was that and also the fact that the military decided to discharge him and wrote in his record that he had, quote, improved.
End quote.
They just, like, yeah, they didn't even want to deal with it either.
Everyone was just like, get him out of here, man.
Just whatever you gotta sign, like, sign it, get him out of here.
Let him go.
He's Farrell, man.
He's frickin' Earl Farrell.
He's Earl Farrell, homie.
And another file in his record said that he was, quote, unquote, not violent, not homicidal, and not destructive.
I feel like that is not at all what happens in this story.
I feel like this story is going to be full of violent homicides with some destruction tossed into the mix.
I mean, yeah, that's not accurate.
Yeah, I think you'd be right here.
You'd definitely be right here.
And Earl would wander around for a minute until he finally showed up at his Aunt Lillian's house, should quickly take him in and look after him just as she did before when he was a child, should even get him a job being a janitor at St. Mary's Hospital near San Francisco.
And this is where we give a huge, massive...
Extra dutiful, extra glowing, extra sensory shout-out to all of the world's janitors out there.
You guys are the backbone of the entire structure of the business operation.
You can't have a business, no matter what it is, if it doesn't have great mirrors to inspect your vanity in, or great countertops to admire, or great toilets to just take the most...
The foulest, nastiest, most heinous dumps any woman has ever taken in her life.
The point is this.
If a business wants more business, they need clean toilets to shit in.
Can I get a hey-o?
Ooh, dang.
Preach, brother.
Hey, man.
The janitors get a hard fucking time in this world, man.
Absolutely. And they're out there, front lines, scrubbing toilets.
Making the world nice for us.
Making sure they make it look beautiful.
Everything sparkly and shiny.
So thank you to all the janitors out there.
Keep your fucking chins up.
Keep fucking rocking, man.
Absolutely. Thank you, janitors.
Now, Coop, speaking of janitors and helping out, I need you to help me out with a verb.
Verb. Ending in I-N-G.
Let's just go kegling.
I don't know if that's a real verb, but we're going to go with it.
Oh, it is.
What about a noun?
I need a noun from you as well.
A noun.
Yeah, come on, man.
Give me your best noun.
A noun.
Man, there are a lot of nouns.
That's a good noun.
A shmagma.
Let's go shmagma.
Gross. All right.
We're going to make this a gnarly, gnarly Mad Lib.
Yeah, this Mad Lib is going to be insane.
And then, you know, give me a verb not ending in I-N-G.
Just a regular verb.
Gag. We'll come back to that.
Back to the story.
Back to the story.
So Earl gets a job.
He's sweeping and mopping, doing some other janitorial stuff at the hospital.
Life goes on.
Things seem decent enough.
And things get even more decent when Earl meets a woman.
This woman was 58-year-old Mary Martin.
And she resembled Earl's grandmother to the T, warts and all.
But he was smitten.
He was in love.
And he was also 23 or 24. Which is crazy because he's...
I was just going to say, he's like 23 or 24, right?
Yeah, half the age.
She's almost 60, and he's like, I love you.
I mean, that's crazy.
Yeah, he was in love, bro.
So Mary was a maid and a housekeeper at the same hospital.
She was a bit shy, but Earl found that cute.
And it wasn't long before he proposed to her, and she would say yes.
And the two were married under Catholic rite.
The weird part about the relationship was that, well, for one, Earl didn't have an idea of what a marriage meant, and two, he saw Mary as more of a mother who played that motherly role while he played the disobedient child role.
It was perfect.
Oh, man.
What kind of crazy play is this?
Like, that's insane, dude.
Well, it's kind of, you know, you see like women who are broken as children or whatever, look for that father figure that they never had in men.
So they go after like older men.
True. That whole thing.
Look for a father figure.
And the same goes for dudes.
True. True.
You know, they get abandoned as a child.
I don't know.
And they want that mother figure that they never had.
True. But Schechter writes in his book that Earl expected crazy and wild sex on the daily, multiple times a day.
And I mean, is that a bad thing?
Like, if two people just love fucking, you know?
Is that bad?
You know, at the time that this is written...
I'm sure it was considered odd.
Yeah. But in this case, it was bad.
Earl wanted it all the time, while Mary, being a devout Catholic, wasn't really into it.
So this is where we get, okay, it's bad.
So plus, the dude absolutely refused to bathe like ever.
He was rank as all hell, smelled of roadkill.
Nobody wants to fuck that, bro.
Well, yes.
I could see how this would cause some issues, if that's the case.
So Mary didn't want to fuck him.
Because his hygiene was terrible.
And I don't hold that against her one bit.
So instead, she's laying in bed and Earl lays down next to her and starts stroking himself.
Slowly at first.
You know how it is.
And then he started to flop it around for a few seconds, then a few more strokes, and he was getting all that blood flowing good and strong.
And with a couple slaps with it on one of his legs, Earl would reach climax in which he left himself a gift on his hairy chest.
And even though being the devout Catholic that she was and knowing how sinful his actions were, Mary just laid there and watched him with a mixture of shock and awe.
Now, do we know this from, like, self-reporting?
Like, was the reporter there?
Or was this guy who wrote the book in the room?
I'm just so curious how this all came to light.
He was being cucked, dude.
He was a total cucked guy.
He was a cuck just watching this whole thing go on.
Okay. Alright.
And of course...
At first, their marriage seemed decent enough.
But soon, Earl would become possessive and very jealous.
That's never a good thing.
And he would become irate any time she spoke to another man, including her own brother.
And when Earl would bear witness to such a travesty, he would become violent and even more oppressive.
And there were many times that Earl would throw objects at his wife as a means to deter her from doing that thing called communicating with other people.
Most of the time, he'd beat up inanimate objects, though.
He liked doing that.
Those poor little stuffed animals.
That we know of.
Great fucking point.
I'm sure he was just hate-fucking that Raggedy Andy, as Raggedy Ann was absolutely horrified as she hid in the closet.
Have you seen those stuffed animals back in the day?
They were just a bunch of weird-looking bears.
Dude, they were creepy.
Like, they weren't even cute.
Like, if you gave one of those things to a child, like, today, you'd probably get turned in, first of all.
And then, second of all, they'd be scarred for life, dude.
Those things are horrifying.
Those things were, man.
Truly terrifying, man.
I was looking at photos of those.
I don't know, man, because did people have a different perspective back then, obviously?
I think, yeah, a toy was just a toy, you know?
Yeah, yeah.
No matter how creepy as fuck it looked.
But okay, in that case, let's think about this for a second.
We think those toys were creepy, right?
So back in their day, what did they think was creepy?
Probably behaviors more than toys.
I'll bet you that's what people thought were creepy.
Just how people acted?
Yeah, I think people were more creeped out by people.
Whereas nowadays, we're just like, oh yeah, something wrong with that guy.
And that's about as creeped out as we get.
Then you show us some weird toy and we're like, ooh, shit, get that out of here.
Yeah, man.
Weird shit.
So Scott, let me ask you a question.
Sure, shoot.
How do serial killers typically choose their victims?
Like, we usually see a pattern in the victim type of a serial killer.
Many have a certain thing they look for in a victim.
We discussed this to a degree in previous episodes.
Right, so I'll go off of what I know about.
Ted Bundy.
Right. Because, you know, Ted Bundy chose to murder and he raped women that resembled his ex-girlfriend from his earlier years who broke up with him right before he started killing.
So he had this, like, projected vendetta against people.
But, you know, that's just, like, one type.
Some people choose people that are weaker than them or appear to be weaker.
Some people just have something they never got, so they're looking to replace that, but it just gets all messed up and then it comes out all, you know, fucked up.
There's different ways.
A lot of different victim types, for sure.
With Earl, he seemed to choose women that resembled his grandmother, starting with his own wife, who, as I stated already, highly resembled his own grandmother, who raised him, warts and all.
He didn't kill his wife, Mary, but the majority of the women he would go on to rape, mutilate, and murder, not in that order, and perform necrophilia on, were older women who resembled his own grandmother.
Criminologist Robert Ressler, a super famous dude, has done some amazing work.
And he says that, quote, End quote.
He says that a sexual predator like Earl likely choose victims that have a symbolic meaning to them.
In some cases, it's a killer who attacks victims that resemble a sexual object such as a woman who scorned them at some point, and they don't see them as a person like themselves.
They see them as an attainable object for their own pleasure.
Or maybe the victim resembles someone in their life that they saw as an oppressor, such as a domineering parent, who's usually the mother in most cases.
This also extends to parents who were distant and didn't give their children the attention that they needed.
You know, this gives us a good opportunity to say, you know, you hear this?
Are you hearing this, ladies and gentlemen?
You gotta raise your children right.
You gotta be there for them.
Gotta play with them, talk to them, coddle them, read to them, be involved, make food.
Fresh food, by the way.
I mean, you don't know, like...
If you're not doing these things, you might be doing nothing except creating a future serial killer for future podcasters like us to write about.
Who wants that on their conscience?
Speaking of conscience and speaking of things that are serial killer-esque, we've got to keep working on this Madlib, dude.
Give me an event.
Oh, an event.
Let's go...
What was the...
Jonestown. Jonestown Massacre.
Okay. Day of the week.
Day of the week.
Saturday. I like it.
I like it.
And then I need two verbs for you, man.
Two verbs.
Man. All right.
Two verbs.
Let's see.
Let's see.
Sharting. The sharting.
And fisting.
Oh, my gosh.
I hope this is good.
All right.
Yeah, thanks very much, Coop.
Back to the story now.
Raise your children right, folks.
Back to the story.
As for Mary, she seemed to quench Earl's violent sexual hunger.
But due to her waning age, Earl would lose interest intersexually and therefore begin to look around for other sexual partners who would end up being more than just a sexual partner against their will.
So as you can imagine...
Those headaches that Earl was suffering from had only become worse with time, and no medication seemed to work to ease the maddening discomfort.
And keep in mind, these are some serious, like, stop-you-dead-in-your-tracks type of headaches.
So one day, he was working somewhere and had been up on a ladder doing whatever it was he was doing.
And one of these excruciating headaches came on hard, just crushing it.
And it made him fall off the ladder.
He would end up striking his head on the ground, which left him unconscious for a little while.
He was brought to a hospital where he stayed for two days.
But when he finally came to, after those two days, he got up and ran out of the hospital with his head still bandaged, like you'd see in a movie, just dodging all the nurses and gurneys, being pushed everywhere, jumping and leaping, busting all sorts of parkour moves as he escaped the hospital.
It's crazy because, like, they're just trying to help him.
And he's like...
Get me out of here!
He doesn't want help.
Just losing his shit.
No, he does not.
No, he does not, sir.
Now, with this second severe head injury, Earl's loosening grip on reality was exacerbated tenfold.
The voices he was hearing and the visions he was having were far more real now than they ever were before.
And up until this point, he wasn't physically violent toward his wife, Mary.
But that's not to say that Mary was not afraid of him, because she was.
She was very.
And it came to a point when Mary straight up refused to move with Earl while they lived in Palo Alto after he had caused issues with his employer for the 30,000th time.
Mary basically broke up with Earl.
Earl would leave without her but would return the following day asking for her to take him back to which Mary would adamantly refuse.
She had enough.
And this obviously pissed Earl off quite a bit.
But he didn't react toward her.
He simply left to address his growing anger in other ways.
While reeling in his contempt for Mary's refusals, Earl would set off to find someone that he could hurt to make himself feel better.
While walking around the neighborhood and looking through windows on May 19, 1921, Earl would spot his perfect victim, who was unknown to him, and whose name was Mary Summers.
One to think quick.
Earl devised a plan where he would pretend to be a plumber that was sent to fix a gas leak, despite not knowing a damned thing about plumbing or gas.
Now, I'm not sure if that's a typo or if Earl straight up said that he was a plumber that was sent there to fix a gas leak.
I don't know.
But what I do know is that plumbers don't generally work on gas leaks.
Maybe things were different back then.
I don't know.
Like... I mean, now I feel like people are wise enough to see something like that coming a mile away.
They're like, no, bro.
Sorry, I didn't phone no plumber.
But back then, maybe people would just take it as like, oh, a do-getter out to help.
Like, wow.
Yeah, come on in.
Let's do that.
Because who would do that back then?
Everybody. Exactly.
At any rate, man, his ploy worked.
Earl knocked on the door.
He said who he was and why he was there.
And the 24-year-old brother of Mary Summers, Charles Jr., didn't even think twice and let Earl inside with no question.
Earl immediately descended to the basement where Mary was playing.
He ran directly over to her before she had a chance to even comprehend what was happening, and Earl began to strangle the young girl with both of his hands around her neck.
Fortunately, Mary was able to fight against her attacker and started to scream like no other.
Charles Jr. heard the screams and ran as fast as he could to the basement to rescue his younger sister.
As he was running down the stairs, the frightened Earl was running up the stairs.
He was able to brush past Charles Jr. and made it out into the street.
Charles Jr. was quick on his heels and the two men started to fight it out in the street.
And after some tussling, Earl gave Charles Jr. a crushing blow to the face, which knocked him to the ground, phasing the young man.
Earl took the moment to make a hasty escape between the neighboring houses.
And two hours later, Earl would be spotted by the police as he rode on a trolley down a street in San Francisco.
And how they spotted him is just amazing to me.
Seriously, man.
Police must have been on another level at that time.
Because nowadays, you call in something and the guy's like, yeah, we can't find him.
These guys pick him out on a trolley headed down the street.
They're like, there he is!
In San Francisco, dude.
A huge city.
In San Francisco.
Lots of people.
Man, that's absolutely insane.
Yeah. So he was caught.
Earl would be photographed and booked into the jail.
He had scratches all over his face and neck, which were gifted by Little Mary Summers as she fought back against him.
While in a cell.
He would start to quietly chant weird religious verses, which absolutely made his cellmate feel incredibly uneasy.
But what made him feel even more uneasy was when Earl began to pluck both of his eyebrows with his fingernails until there were no more little hairs to pluck.
This also gave the jailers a bit of a shock, which was amplified when Earl started to howl like a wolf upon seeing faces in the walls of his cell.
Oh yeah, he's one of those guys.
Just making a ton of noise.
Everyone's like, ah, this crazy guy back here, man.
Get him out of here, man.
His wife, Mary, would be notified of his arrest, and he was then transferred to a city hospital for further observation.
He would be placed into a straitjacket and placed on a bed, and this is how Mary found him when she came to see him.
And Earl told her that the faces in the walls were reaching out and scratching him.
Mary was shocked at seeing her husband in this state of mind, but the shock would be worsened when officials would tell her about Earl's true past.
This didn't deter her from being the wife she promised him she would be, though, and she stuck by him while he was involuntarily hospitalized in order to keep him from going to prison.
Judging by how his past hospital visits have gone, I don't feel like this is going to be successful.
I don't think so either.
Let's check this out.
One month after Earl's attack on 12-year-old Mary Summers, He'd stand before a judge to talk about competency.
The psychiatrist involved noted that Earl was quote-unquote apathetic, eccentric, noisy, destructive, and incendiary.
Other doctors would add to that by saying that Earl was quote-unquote restless, violent, dangerous, excited, and depressed.
They warned the court that Earl was a dangerous man who posed a threat to both his wife and himself and essentially anyone anywhere at any time.
They concluded that he was far too dangerous to be let back into the community without some serious medical interventions for his disorders.
The judge ordered him to be transported to the Napa State Hospital immediately.
And if you recall, Earl had already escaped his hospital three times in the past.
Oh yeah, about to add a fourth to the resume.
He would be further diagnosed as being a quote-unquote constitutional psychopath with outbreaks of psychosis.
The doctors also said that he had what they called nomadic dementia, which I believe is a type of dementia that comes and goes.
I'm possibly wrong.
I tried to look into it, but couldn't find anything but a band called nomadic dementia.
That's also going to be the name of my next bluegrass single, nomadic dementia.
Banjo and mandolin.
I love it.
Moving along.
The hospital officials were wise enough to not allow Earl to walk around the grounds without restraints on.
But even then, he still attempted to escape twice in the first two weeks.
The doctors there would give the old chap some salivacin, which was or is an anti-syphilis drug, and this appeared to show some improvement in Earl.
For the first year of his stay, he was cooperative and conversational.
But he still held onto that religious fervor of his.
He also tried to escape a few more times.
But he made half-assed attempts, which the staff seemed to find adorable, because in short time, they started to allow him in certain areas without restraints.
But about 18 months into his stay, Earl began to be a bit more agitated and melancholic.
He stopped taking the Salverson that appeared to be helping him with his ongoing syphilis problem, and he even started telling the doctors that he was planning a great escape.
Naturally, the entire staff gave a chuckle at poor old crazy Earl, early bird Leonard Nelson.
November 2nd, 1923 would roll around, and on that pleasant day, Earl would do exactly as he told the staff that he would.
He escaped.
He would go straight to his Aunt Lillian's house, where he arrived in the middle of the night.
Lillian was awoken by some sounds, so she went to inspect.
What she saw was Earl's face pressed firmly against the glass of a window.
His eyes blink as he slowly let himself slide down it, leaving a trail of moisture and filth.
The sight caused her to scream, but when she realized it was Earl, she let him in.
That's the crazy part, right?
She didn't just, like, call the cops.
She was like, oh, family, I'm letting him in.
He's a little weird, but come on in.
You see, Lillian would say that she was scared beyond death when Earl showed up at her house.
She was scared.
So what she did is she just gave him a set of her husband's clothes and told him that he should run far away as it was too dangerous for him to stay at her house because that's the first place the police would come to look.
Smart lady.
Earl agreed and he scampered off into the darkness making small animal noises like chipmunks.
Lillian watched as he went.
And once she felt that it was safe to do so, she contacted the police and the state hospital.
Two days later, Earl was spotted walking around San Francisco and was quickly apprehended and taken back to the state hospital for a fifth time.
But this time, he would stay for another 16 months, and he seemed to just lay low as there were no entries made in his record.
And in 1925, Earl would be released having served his sentence for his attack on Mary Summers.
In so doing, he was also able to convince his poor wife to take him back.
Within weeks, his anger would evolve into something more menacing, more dangerous.
He would soon take his violent actions a step further and take the life of his first victim.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where we will have to end today's episode.
But don't worry, we will pick right back up at this point next week, where we will close it out with all the brutal and gory details of the crimes of Earl Leonard Nelson.
And it has been, like, quite a build, right?
Because he's been locked up, he's escaped, he's failed, he's come back, he's been kicked out, he's attempted a couple times, you know, sort of like a little half-hearted attempt, you know, at this, like, committing the crime, so he's getting the taste for it, right?
Like, he's out there to cause some destruction.
Oh, yeah.
But he's been thwarted, so it's just...
It's building!
And he's sexually frustrated, and he's criminally frustrated.
Can't seem to do it right.
So yeah, it's building.
It's building.
And you know the whole time he's just locked up, just that last 16 months, you know he's just plotting.
You know he's just like, alright, I messed it up that time, but not this time, homie.
That's right, man.
So far, it's pretty intense, right?
The story's pretty wild, isn't it, so far?
Absolutely. Yeah.
Crazy. Yeah, man.
This guy's not right in the head.
No. He's about to pop off and carry some serious, heinous shit out.
And trust us, you don't want to miss it.
Definitely not.
So, dear listeners, please don't forget to like, share, and, most importantly, subscribe.
And also, don't forget to give us a five-star rating wherever you can.
Apple, freaking whatever, iTunes.
What are some places, Scott?
Acast. iHeartRadio.
iHeartRadio. Deezer.
Spotify. Just anywhere you listen to podcasts, give us a five-star rating, and leave us some glowing reviews wherever possible.
You know, you were talking about places just now, Coop, and we have something we need to finish up before we wrap up today's episode, so I'm gonna need, really quick from you, a place.
Um... Um...
The Marianas Trench.
I like that.
Now, time span.
Give me a time span.
Um, alright, let's just go...
Two minutes and 37 seconds.
Alright. 37 seconds.
I like it.
Alright, verb.
Give me a verb.
Ooh. Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom.
Thank you.
Let's go with...
Oh, man.
Bumping uglies.
Gross. You're disgusting.
Alright, give me an adverb.
Oh, shit.
Is there a name to your story?
Love Letter.
Fuck. Okay.
I don't even know, dude.
Let's go with Ugly.
Horrifyingly Ugly.
Horrifyingly. Okay, and...
Name of a person.
Jeffrey Epstein.
Jeff Ep.
Oh, man.
Yo, Jeff Epp.
Let's get him in there.
Love letter.
Thank you for that, Coop.
Thank you for finishing up that for us, Coop.
And yes, ladies and gentlemen, please email us, follow us on Twitter, check out our Facebook.
But please, help us get the word out about the show, man.
Tag your family, friends, and our posts.
Do all that you can.
Just help us ensure that one more person can find out about this show.
Yeah, and you know what, Scott?
What's up, man?
It's been a while since we've done a listener email.
We love emails.
We love each and every one of them.
There are just so many to go through and we can't address all of them.
There are so many, dude.
So many.
Yeah, bro.
So I just wanted to read a couple really quick.
We haven't done it in quite a while and they've just been stacking up.
Sure, sure.
Alright, so this one comes from Jordan P. out of Phoenix, Arizona.
I love Phoenix.
Yo, guys.
I just wanted to reach out to say you guys are killing it.
I'm loving the range of topics, and the choice of stories you guys do is pretty incredible.
I've been into the true crime world for years, and you guys have brought stories that I've never even heard of, so that's fucking lit.
Keep up the hard work, you guys.
I, for one, he's got typos here.
I, for one, love what you do, so thank you.
That's how you know it's legit when there's some typos.
Yeah, the guy can't spell too well.
Some words that are abbreviated.
Yeah, for sure.
But that's super nice.
Jordan, hey, thanks, man.
Thanks, Jordan P. Appreciate it.
And it's heartwarming for us when we get some emails.
So thank you, Jordan P. Thank you, Jordan P. Very heartwarming.
Scott, why don't you read this next one?
Oh, hell yeah.
All right, so let's see.
This one comes to us from Alexa L. From Anchorage, Alaska.
Nice, dude.
Fucking Anchorage.
Anchorage rocks.
Alaska's like one of the last wildernesses.
Well, hers is short, sweet, and to the point.
She says, hello, guys.
Really great topics.
Your stuff keeps me interested, and I actually find myself laughing at the stupid shit that you guys say.
All right, well, that's fair.
Yeah, true.
Not that it's, quote, stupid shit.
She says, not that it's, quote, stupid, but it's just so hilarious that I literally laugh out loud, which doesn't happen a lot.
People look at me funny.
Anyway, I'm really loving your show, and I hope you guys keep pumping the episodes out.
Well, that is the plan, Alexa L. So thank you for saying that.
That's actually really badass that you would say that, so thank you.
Appreciate it a lot.
Absolutely. Thanks so much, Alexa L. If people are looking at you funny, that means we're doing a good job.
Exactly, exactly.
And speaking of doing a good job, Coop, let's read this Mad Lib that you so kindly gifted me the alchemy for.
This is called...
Love letter number three, actually.
Okay. Here we go.
Dear Xenu, God of Scientology, it has come to my studded butt plug that you are the horniest girlboy in the thigh gap.
My labias start kegling a shmegma every time you speak, and I would like to gag if you want to go to the Jonestown Massacre with me next Saturday.
Oh my god.
If you sharting...
Please fisting me at Mariana's Trench in 2 minutes and 37 seconds.
I'm bumping uglies with you and everything about you.
Horrifyingly ugly, Jeffrey Epstein.
Oh my god, yes, dude.
That's exactly a love letter that Jeffrey Epstein would send to Xenu.
