This is a Studio both And production. Hey everyone, Studio both And is
hosting a launch party here in the Berkshires on October fourteenth. Both the True
Crime Bullshit and Karen and Ellen Letters teams will be on stage with some of
your other favorite podcasters like Amanda from Weinan Crime, Justin from Generation Why,
Charlie from Crime Lines, Nina from Already Gone, Laney from True Crime Cases
with Blaney, Kristen from Murder She Told, Whitney and Melissa from Navigating Advocacy.
Bob and Darren from The Defense Diaries, and Moore will also be airing
an exclusive premier and Q and A for my newest investigative podcast, Unsafe Spaces.
Get your tickets now at both and dot Fyi Slash Launch. All profits
from the event will be donated to private investigations for the missing and the Northern
Berkshire Community Coalition. Come for the podcasts, stay for the Fall, Foliage.
I look forward to welcoming you all to the beautiful Berkshires. Warning listening
to this podcast may cause on mitigating obsession and cognitive dissonance. All names have
been changed to protect the innocent, the insane, and everyone else in between.
Sometimes we want something so badly, or think we want something so badly,
that we never stop to really interrogate that desire. Do I actually want
this? Do I really want to know the answer to this question? Well,
having this be as rewarding as wanting it. What will happen or change
if I get what I'm looking for? What are the ramifications of my desire?
September twenty fourth, nineteen eighty eight, Dear Mark, I haven't found
a new apartment yet, so I'd like to stay here for another month.
Do you know of any vacant departments? What is the matter with landlords around
here? Anyway? I've looked at about three apartments so far, and the
landlords act so weird when I'm interviewing them. Two of them wouldn't even tell
me their signs. No wonder they have vacant departments anyway. Karen leaves for
Paris on October tenth. I can't believe her father is going to make her
go there. I feel so sorry for Karen. France is a real tourist
trap. I know I was there, yours Ellen. It was autumn of
nineteen eighty eight. The Bush and Ducaucus election campaigns were reaching a fever pitch,
the Cellular Technology Industry Association was created, laying the foundation for the new
cell phone economy. Big, a movie about a boy trapped in a man's
body, hit theaters and in Portland, Oregon, two newlyweds were setting off
to explore Europe, wishing knew a beautiful future made up of one happy day
after another. Congratulations Exceptember twenty seventh, nineteen eighty eight. Dear Karum and
Raw, my sincerest best wishes on your marriage. I can think of no
two people I know more ideally matched than you. I hope you are very
happy together. Although I may have never said so, I have grown to
look forward to your letters to me, and I will miss not receiving them
in future. Good luck, Mark, October nineteenth, nineteen eighty eight.
Dear Mark, Karen called me from Paris today. She says it's not as
bad as we thought. Karen says the Ritz Hotel seems all right, with
towels and everything. Karen says the food at the Ritz Hotel restaurant is okay
once you scrape all the gravy off. She says they put sauce on everything
anyway. Karen says she has already seen the Eyeful Tower and Versailles, where
King Louis lived. Tomorrow, she's going to go to the Louver Museum,
which is full of expensive French paintings by Michael Angelo and Venus de Milo.
None of the paintings are for sale, but Karen says she's going there anyway.
I'll let you know what she thinks of the Louver after she goes there.
Being an artist myself, I'm kind of interested too, Yours, Ellen,
October twenty fifth, nineteen eighty eight. Dear Mark, Karen and Rob
are on their way to Venice, or are already in Venice. The other
day they went to the cathedral of Notre Dame that means an English church of
Our Dame. Well, they learned all about Catholics from a priest who gave
this lecture to the group they were in. Anyway, Catholics believe that Jesus
Christ's mother, Mary Christ, never really died. Catholics believe that Mary Christ
was consumed in heaven. Anyway, that's what they assume happened to her.
So Catholics have a big holiday to celebrate their assumption, called the Feast of
the Consumption. Isn't that interesting. You see, Karen's family is Episcopalian.
They assume Mary christ just died. Yours Ellen, November first, nineteen eighty
eight. Dear Mark, Well, I know I told you that I would
be leaving here by today, but I'd like to stay just a little longer.
I'm trying to find jobs for Karen and me back in Portland, but
my father won't help. He blames me for the explosion at my uncle Gary's
pickle factory two years ago. Did I ever tell you about it? It
really wasn't my fault, but they blame me anyway. But that's a long
story anyway. Karen's father says he'll try to get us jobs if he can,
but not at the genetic engineering lab where we wanted to work. So
my head is sort of up in the air right now. Karen and Robert
and Venice, they said the Orient Express is not bad for an old train.
Karen didn't need to bring any sandwiches. After all. They did have
food on the train. It was all French food, but they ate it
anyway. They are staying at the hour gruenwalg Hotel, which doesn't sound Italian
to me, but the people who work at the hotel are Italian, that
is, Karen's's people in Venice are very poor. They can't afford cars,
she says. The gondolas are just for the tourists. The people who live
in Venice right around on vaporizers. She saw the bridge of size and the
Dog's palace. You see for centuries, even for hundreds of years, Venice
was ruled by the Dog of Venice. He wasn't really a dog, he
was a man, but they called him the dog. Anyway. Karen's father
arranged the hotel reservations and the restaurants too. They are at Danielli's restaurant and
the Antique Martini and Harry's bar. They didn't see him because he died a
long time ago. The people in Venice eat a lot of Italian food.
I already knew that. Though. Yesterday they went to Saint Marco's church.
They learned a lot more stuff about Catholics. Well, this Catholic priest,
who spoke England very well, considering how short he was named, Brother Angelo,
told Karen's group the strangest stories. Karen couldn't hear all of it because
the Agnostics in the church were back anyway, Catholics believed that a long time
ago there was a bad Jewish king named Harod. Well, one day he
really wanted some salami, so this salami danced around him. But the only
way he could get it was to cut this guy's head off and put it
on a plate. It was gross. Catholics have the weirdest ideas, but
I wouldn't say so to one of them. They might get offensive. Catholics
also have nuns. Nuns are women who have taken vowels of chastity, which
doesn't make sense to me. Like I said, Catholics have some weird ideas.
Karen asked Brother Angelo about all this, but she says he looked confused
by her questions. Well, child, for now, that's Italian for goodbye
yours Ellen. November fifteenth, nineteen eighty eight. Dear Mark, by the
time you get this letter, I'll be back in Portland. Enclosed are my
keys and Karen's keys. Rob threw his keys in the trash. He didn't
know he was supposed to return them to you. Karen and Rob are on
their way back to Portland too. Karen says she packed all her suitcases full
of souvenirs of venice. What is for you. She tried to buy Venetian
blinds. Isn't that a great souvenir of Venice. Of course, the only
ones she could find were made in Taiwan. I told her buying them in
Venice is what counts, but she didn't buy them, even though I told
her buying them in Venice is what makes them Venetian. Anyway, I know
I told you they would be in Venice longer, but Karen's father made them
come home early. There was some sort of accident with a gondola, and
Karen's father says he couldn't afford another day with them left to their own advices
or something. Anyway, the Italian police called Karen's father and he made them
come home. The Italian police or such snitches. I cleaned up the house
really good before I left. The only damage is the freezer door, which
broke off its hinges. Rob broke it accidentally when he hit it with a
frozen leg of lamb. It's really not Rob's fault. It could have happened
to anyone, you know, but it happened to Rob. The vacuum cleaner
is busted, too, but you already know about that. It really wasn't
Karen's fault. If you ask me, or if you ask her, I'm
leaving the painting in the living room for you. If you put batteries in
the back of it, the cat's eyes will go back and forth. It
takes four batteries. The cat's tongue is broken. It's not an original painting.
Being an artist myself, I can tell these things. Finally, there's
the security deposit. I don't know what to ask you for. Karen's the
practical one. Karen told me that you're supposed to pay me interest on it,
or I'm supposed to pay you interest on it. I can't keep it
straight, so just send me whatever you feel you should. I'll let Karen
figure it out. Late, Karen's father has got jobs for Karen, robbing
me on a Christmas tree farm near Portland owned by one of his patients.
Karen's father says, probably can't destroy the world on a Christmas tree farm.
He says the silliest things, considering he's an ornithologist, that's an eye doctor.
If you want to write me, you know my address in Portland.
Well, I guess this is goodbye yours. Ellen. November eighteenth, nineteen
eighty eight. Dear Karen and Ellen, you will be receiving your security deposit
refund in about a week. As per California law, I am letting you
know that I intend to make the following deductions from your deposit on the refrigerator
will have to be replaced. Enclosed is the estimate from GE to fix the
freeser door. It will cost me ninety seven dollars and eighty seven cents plus
twenty nine dollars and ninety five cents I have paid for this service call already.
The GE repairman says it doesn't pay to fix the refrigerator because, in
addition to the broken freezer door, there is a low side leak in the
refrigerator coils, due no doubt to your repeated defrosting with your mallet and chisel.
I've warned you not to do this, but you ignored my warnings and
now the refrigerator is beyond repair. In addition, I must tell you that
I do not regard Rob's breaking the freezer door off its hinges by hitting it
with a frozen leg of lamb that he was swinging around as normal wear and
tear. It may come as a surprise to you, But in my many
years in this business, this is the first time a tenant of a mine
has destroyed a refrigerator belonging to me with a lamb leg. The refrigerator will
cost me two hundred and seventy five dollars to replace, plus twenty five dollars
to have the broken fridge haul away. Two The Hoover Quick Vac vacuum cleaner
cost me forty two dollars and is beyond repair. I do not regard your
destruction of my vacuum by sucking up green, slimy stuff in your refrigerator as
normal usage, and therefore I do not regard this breakage as normal wear and
tear either. Three the closet doors in Ellen's bedroom will cost eighty dollars to
replace. The fake fur glued on these doors will not come off. You
may recall I told you not to glue fur or anything else to your walls
or doors. Four it will cost me fifty two dollars to replace the blinds
in the kitchen and Karen's bedroom with all the phone numbers and notes written on
them. Five it will cost me forty dollars to replace the oak framed medicine
cabinet in the bathroom that you took with you and itemized statement and refund if
any, will be sent to you shortly, Sincerely Mark. In the original
run of the Karen and Ellen Letters podcast, there were two interesting questions that
I saw come up over and over again. The first was does Ellen even
exist? People noticed that Mark rarely responded to Ellen's letters, and that almost
all of her letters were completely outside of the scope of a landlord tenant relationship.
Karen would write to Mark about her complaints surrounding the cottage, rent utility
bills, but Ellen would write to Mark about life in general, astrology school,
her concerns surrounding Roger Rabbit, and almost all seemed to be written in
a childlike voice. By this point, I'd found evidence of everyone in the
real world everyone except for Ellen, and so I was fascinated by the two
theories that derived from the Ellen question. One, Ellen never existed and all
of her letters were faked. Two, Ellen was not a college student but
actually a little girl, more specifically Karen and Rob's daughter. The second interesting
question I saw people asking a lot was who was the worst? Karen was
so awful and demanded Mark was mean to be toying with these girls. Rob
had no sense of accountability. And I guess the part of that question that
struck me as interesting was the word worst. Not so much because none of
these people could be considered awful or bad or the worst, but more so
that in any story we seem to look for the person who is the worst.
There's a binary there that now, at this point in my life,
makes me strangely uncomfortable. But back when these letters were a blog, it
was a binary I found myself within. When I started the blog back in
twenty twelve. Initially I would have agreed with any one of the arguments about
who was the worst, Karen Mark Rob. I don't think anyone ever considered
Ellen to be bad. But by twenty thirteen my opinion changed drastically. When
I started blogging these letters, I thought it would remain the inside joke it
had always been amongst my out of state friends and then maybe some of their
friends. I had no idea how big the blog was going to get.
If I had, I hope I would have done a better job of concealing
identities. And you know, I say that now with plenty of hindsight.
In fact, when the blog did start to get big, so did my
ego and my obsession, which grew even greater. I didn't want the excitement
to end. I wanted to sensationalize the moment, stretch it out for as
long as possible, so I began desperately searching for Mark and Karen once again
years later, and it turned out Mark was now even easier to find and
get a hold of, and less than a day I had his phone number
and email address. Karen, on the other hand, seemed a rabbit hole
in the Portland area alone, there were over thirty Karens who shared her full
name just on Facebook alone. I reached out to about half of them before
giving up. Karen seemed like a lost cause, and more than that,
she terrified me. For about a week, I continued blogging and occasionally stared
both curiously and fearfully at Mark's phone number, now saved in my phone.
When I started my journey and even when I started the blog, these people
were more or less anecdotes to me, and while their existence had been a
long debate, while their authenticity had always been up in the air, I
never stopped to consider the real life repercussions of posting these funny found letters.
It was just a joke between friends. But now with Mark's phone number tempting
me on a daily basis, these people had become very real, and the
blog had become very big, and there was just no way to know how
that phone call would go. And then one day my hubrists got the best
of me. I sat in my living room staring out his number and pressed
call. Meanwhile, Karen had numerous concerns with Mark's deposit deductions. Obviously November
twentieth, nineteen eighty eight, Dear Mark, I got your letter. I
can't believe that you're going to keep my security deposit. Rob says he was
expecting you to do something like this, but I'm unbelievable. Unbelieving. Rob
said, I should have expected this when you refuse to pay for the cleaning
stuff when I moved in, even though you should have. Do you remember
anyway, Let's get down to business. As my father says, I took
the medicine cabinet as a trade for the cat painting Ellen, and I left
for you to keep. If you want me to return the old medicine cabinet,
I'll give back to you when I'm back in the Bay Area in the
spring or fall. So that's that you can't charge Ellen for replacing her closet
doors. They worked fine and they're still there, and you never paid for
the fake for anyway. The vacuum cleaner wouldn't have broke if you told me
not to suck up liquid, so that's really your fault. If you had
told me not to vacuum in the green, slimy stuff in the refrigerator,
I wouldn't have done it, so you can't charge me for that either.
As far as the refrigerator goes, you can't charge us for that either,
since Rob didn't hit it with a leg of lamb on purpose, it was
an accident. Also, Rob didn't even live there anyway. I don't want
to get rough with you, but if I don't get back my whole security
deposit plus thirty four point four percent a year interest that we agreed on,
I'm going to turn this whole matter over to Rob. And he's still seriously
thinking about going to law school. Yours, Karen, November twenty fourth,
nineteen eighty eight. Dear Karen, you will not be receiving any money from
maybe the deductions from your security deposit that I outlined in my last letter to
you total more than the amount of the deposit itself. I will not feel
you for the excess. Your last letter to me reflects a good deal of
confusion on your part about law and security deposits. One. I never agreed
to pay you thirty four point four percent a year on your security deposit.
Two. It doesn't matter whether you and Rob broke your vacamm or vacum cleaner
and refrigerator on purpose or not, nor does it matter where whether Robert lived
in your house or not. All that matters legally is whether they broke from
normal wear and tear, which they did not, or whether they broke from
abuse or negligence, which they did. Three. I did not agree to
trade the bathroom medicine cabinet for your cat painting, which I do not want.
In any case, I certainly cannot wait until spring or possibly fall before
replacing it. Four I told you and Ellen repeatedly and in writing not to
glue fake fur on your walls or doors. Furthermore, your lease specifically prohibits
you from any alteration or redecoration of the house without my prior written consent,
which I did not give. You five. As far as your threat to
turn this matter over to Rob quote who was still seriously thinking about applying to
law school end quote, that is a risk I am prepared to accept.
Finally, it has long been obvious to me from reading your letters that you
expect other people to give you anything you demand, regardless of the cost or
reasonableness of your demands. This is not going to work with me. I've
had to work hard and sacrifice for everything I have. Furthermore, I've been
your landlord, not your employee. I am not going to send you money
simply because you demand. Sincerely, Mark, November twenty ninth, nineteen eighty
eight. Mark. The cat painting in the living room costed Ellen one hundred
and ninety seven dollars, which is almost two hundred dollars. That's more than
the medicine cabinet and the vacuum cleaner costs put together. All the cat painting
needs is four batteries and it will work okay anyway. The eyes will go
back and forth like they should. But the cat's tongue is broken and I
don't think it can be fixed. Rob broke off the tongue in August.
It was an accident, and really it could have happened to any of us
anyway. My point is that you're getting a good deal. If the vacuum
cleaner really costed you forty two dollars, like you say in the medicine cabinet,
forty dollars, that's eighty four dollars total. If you subtract that from
one hundred and ninety seven dollars that Ellen paid for the cat painting, which
is almost two hundred dollars, then you've made over one hundred dollars profit on
the trade. Two hundred minus eighty four equals over one hundred dollars. So
you see, you still owe me a full refund of my deposit. Karen,
December two, nineteen eighty eight. Dear Karen, I have received your
letter of November twenty nine. Your line of reasoning, if I may color
that, is absurd. Since you believe the cat painting is valuable, I
will hold it for thirty days from the date of this letter. If it
is not picked up by you within these thirty days, I will have the
painting taken to the city dump, in which case you will receive no compensation
from me for this painting. That I do not want, and that I
do believe is worthless. Sincerely, Mark. When I started blogging the letters
back in twenty twelve, I would have agreed with most arguments about who the
worst person was, because they all had their moments. But by twenty thirteen,
my opinion had drastically changed. Obsession can do a lot of damage.
Desire can make you do strange things. The pair can turn you into a
person you are not. Six months after the blog came down and all the
revelations came out and the letters finally returned to a box in a closet,
I knew that the worst person in all of this was me. The Karen
and Ellen Letters will return on October twelfth. Karen and Ellen Letters are Found
Correspondence narrated by Me and voiced by Sarah Stapleton, Sarah Kitcher, Jeff Powell,
and Chris Brayton. This episode was made possible by the following Patreon producers
Adrian A. Yellow, Amelia Hancock, Amy Basil and l Benjamin Choppafon,
Kasey Jensen Richardson, Dana Keith, Happy Birthday, Doctor Jill Cooper, Drew
Vipon, Daley Reid, Jessica Alihodzik, Gillian Natale, John O'Leary, Kendall
C, Kimberly k, Lauren f Linley, tuscoff Manolas Bulakus, Meghan caps
Seawell, Mike Sherman, Nichol And Dennis Henry, Sarah King, sc Shannon
Foster, Shelley Brewer, Tuesday Woodward zach Ignato. It's Warren, Beth McNally,
John Comrie, Jordan Taylor, Carley McNutt, Lana Sarah c and Lydia
Fiedler. If you'd like to support the show, go to Patreon dot com,
Slash Studio both and. This episode featured music by Lee Rosevier, Icarus
Fifteen, Topaz, White Tide, Junk City, reg X, The ap
X, and Roy Spigler, with featured music by The Bird and the Bee.
The Sunday, December fourth, nineteen eighty eight by Robert Christmas Tree Farm
explodes. The Busy Beaver Christmas Tree Farm in Lynn County was destroyed by a
massive natural gas explosion on November twenty nine. According to Lynn County Sheriff's Investigator,
Captain John O'Hara, the explosion was caused by two careless employees on their
first day of my head over looks. The sentence will show to my heart
bright, watching watching you, watching you, watching you fly with cards,
you fly with love. You can twist it around, baby, that