I never met my paternal grandfather. I saw him once, at a cousin’s wedding open house, when a man walked by who looked exactly like one of my uncles, except older, and I thought, “oh, that must be Gerald.” We didn’t even interact; I just saw him.
My parents had gone no-contact with him…I don't know when, probably the early 80s. He had been abusive when my dad was growing up, my grandmother divorced him, and apparently he didn’t get much better as time went on. He got kicked out of the church, re-baptized, then kicked out again and at some point they (the centralized church bureaucracy) did like a whole investigation on him, because apparently he had the tendency to manipulate and con (and let’s be real, probably abuse) women.
I don't know all the details, because my mom is the queen of just dropping huge bits of information or news in the middle of a conversation, and one time she was like, “I mean, Gerald probably killed his first wife.” First of all, I didn’t even know Gerald had a first wife, let alone that she died under mysterious circumstances! Burying the lede!
According to Mom, it was something about a boiler that used oil, but there was a can of gas in the wrong place and she added it instead and there was an explosion. And of course, how would a can of gas have ended up exactly where the oil was supposed to be?? Anyway, she didn’t know the whole story, so I went digging for the obituary, and the stories are a little different, but the broad strokes are there.
The assumption is that he started being abusive and/or he had been abusive but she didn’t want to subject her child to it and she decided to leave him, and so he retaliated. There is no solid proof, obviously, but as I say at work all the time, it is reasonable to conclude.
I tell you all this only because everyone involved is dead. Not that that changes anything—the obituary is public record, after all—but I generally try not to spill too much tea about people who are still around to possibly read it. This is part of why (steel yourselves) I don’t like true crime.
I do not understand the draw of true crime. There is a very specific stereotype of “white woman who uses true crime podcasts to relax,” and I must ask, why? What is the appeal?? (this is not rhetorical, please tell me your theories.) Is it like, staring into the abyss in a way that doesn't feel like the abyss can stare back? Because I don’t think one-way mirrors work on the abyss.
Maybe I'm just an empath (I am not an empath, I'm not convinced that's even a real thing) but I don't get the appeal of listening to several hours of people talking about the worst thing that ever happened to someone, brought to you by Squarespace. And I think a lot about the other people involved; how do the surviving victims feel? Or their family? Or the criminal's family? These things are often done without the involvement of these people, and sometimes against their express wishes. (This is part of why I won't watch Quiet on Set, which allegedly used interview clips out of context, but also because it directly draws attention to the exploitative content, even as some of the actors are trying to get it removed.)
I was thinking about this recently while reading Kate Clayborn's recent release The Other Side of Disappearing. It's a romance, but it's also a mystery—Jess and her younger sister Tegan go on a road trip with true crime podcaster Salem and Adam, her assistant (? the blurb calls him the producer, but he is new to the field, he isn't producing it! A minor quibble, it's not like the author writes the marketing copy) to follow the route their mom took when she ran away with a notorious con artist that was never heard from again.
I think Kate Clayborn does great work, creating complex, imperfect characters that you still can’t help but root for. Like, Jess has been keeping the truth about their mom from Tegan for years. Years! And Adam develops some qualms as he realizes Jess's reluctance to participate. And don't get me started on Salem's behavior! (I don't like to talk too much about the plot in these—this is neither a college paper nor a book club, although if you have already read it, let's talk about how Jess is the other side of disappearing—but I especially don't want to give away anything that would spoil the mystery part.)
I love a good romcom, and while this does have amusing parts, it's really more of a romdram. All four of the main characters have to face the worst thing that's ever happened to them, and they're all going to do it in public. They say sunlight is the best disinfectant, but it's a big leap when what you're sterilizing are the skeletons from your past.
And so to come full circle (sorry, I've always been bad at conclusions) I would love to hear about the skeletons and legends from your family lore. Men had the tendency to up and die unexpectedly in the days before women could get divorces or bank accounts, tell me your tales!
You know I loved that book!!
It's so good!