January 7, 2026 • 28 mins
Content Warning: This episode discusses the death of an individual. If you’re sensitive tothis topic, this episode may not be for you.
Proximity has a way of revealing character, especially when the walls are thin, and patience runs thinner. In this episode of Mayhem in the Morgue, Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Kendall Crowns reflects on neighbors whose actions left an enduring impression. From a disruptive medical school neighbor whose behavior eroded routine and focus to a volatile homeowner whose actions escalated into gunfire and a contested death investigation, Dr. Crowns traces how proximity can transform daily life.
Highlights
• (0:00) Welcome to Mayhem in the Morgue with Dr. Kendall Crowns
• (0:45) Medical school housing and the quiet routine that made it work
• (2:15) A new upstairs neighbor and the slow collapse of routine and focus
• (4:45) Noise confrontation and the limits of courtesy
• (6:00) Retaliation by anonymous landline calls
• (10:15) Finals arrive and behaviors spiral
• (13:30) Years later, a new home brings a new kind of conflict
• (16:00) A routine afternoon in the backyard turns violent
• (18:00) Law enforcement responds, but the behavior continues
• (22:30) A familiar face arrives in the morgue
• (25:00) Gunshot wound analysis and suicide determination
About the Host: Dr. Kendall Crowns
Dr. Crowns is the Chief Medical Examiner for Travis County, Texas, and a nationally recognized forensic pathologist. He las led death investigations in Travis County, Fort Worth, Chicago, and Kansas. Over his career, he has performed thousands of autopsiesand testified in court hundreds of times as an expert witness. A frequent contributor to Crime Stories with Nancy Grace, Dr. Crowns brings unparalleled insight into the strange, grisly, and sometimes absurd realities of forensic pathology.
About the Show
Mayhem in the Morgue takes listeners inside the bloody, bizarre, and often unbelievable world of forensic pathology. Hosted by Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Kendall Crowns, each episode delivers real-life cases from the morgue, the crime scene, and the courtroom. Expect gallows humor, hard truths, and unforgettable investigations.
Connect and Learn More
Have a question for Dr. Crowns? Submit them to mayheminthemorgue@gmail.com
Learn more about Dr. Kendall Crowns on Linkedin. Catch him regularly on Crime Stories with Nancy Grace and follow Mayhem in the Morgue where you get your podcasts.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Once again, this episode has discussions of deaths of individuals.
If this sort of thing upsets you, this is again
not the episode for you. Welcome to Mayhem the More
with your host, Doctor Kidder Crowns. Today's episode Neighbors neighbors.
(00:27):
Unless you own a private island, you can't escape them.
Some are good, some are bad, and some you never know.
But the really bad ones are the ones you really remember. Today,
I'm going to talk about a couple of problematic neighbors
that I have had over the years. When I was
in medical school, I lived in an apartment complex on
(00:47):
Rainbow Boulevard in Kansas City, Kansas. It was near some
train tracks in a highway. The apartments were small, reasonably priced,
and were a few blocks away from the school, and
most of the people who lived there were actually medical students.
I walked from these apartments every day to go to class,
and they were incredibly convenient. I can still remember my
(01:10):
apartment number. It was five fourteen. It was in the
back corner of one section. I shared a wall with
one person, and I had a neighbor across from me
and one above me. Behind my apartment was a tree
covered hill that blocked out the sun, so that wasn't
really a neighbor in West you count the feral cats
and raccoons. In the years that I lived there, my
(01:31):
neighbor across from me was nonexistent. I saw her only once.
She too was a medical student, but a little further
along than me. She was a great neighbor, never there,
kept to herself when she was there, she was always quiet.
During my first semester of school, my upstairs neighbor was
also very quiet. He was in his final year of
(01:53):
school and he was never there as well, and I
never heard him except maybe once or twice. And because
my apartment and was so quiet, I studied there a lot.
It was convenient. I could get snacks, I could nap
and occasionally watch TV, and I developed quite a routine.
I went home for Christmas that year, and when I returned,
(02:14):
I had a new upstairs neighbor. I still remember his name,
but because he isn't dead, maybe I'll refer to him
as Lane. Laine and I started medical school together. My
class size was one hundred and seventy five students, which
is a big group of people, and he were always busy,
and due to that I knew who he was, but
(02:36):
I didn't know him, and his last name was also
further down the alphabet than mine, and that meant we
had no interaction in labs or clinical rotations. Laine wasn't
always in his apartment, but when he was, Laine liked
to get drunk, and when he was drunk, he liked
to get loud, and he liked to do this at
all hours of the day. I remember one time at
(02:59):
two am, he sat on his back porch blowing a
Marty Gras horn for over an hour. Laine also liked
to entertain strippers from a local strip club called Bazookahs
at his apartment. Sometimes he would be having extracurricular activities
with them late at night, and it would also get
awful loud. But the most annoying thing that he did
was on the morning of our examinations, and that activity
(03:22):
was he would play the song Rooster by Alison Chains.
If you're not familiar with Alison Chains, they are a
heavy metal band that formed in Seattle in nineteen eighty
seven and they're always mixed in with the grunge musical
scene of the nineteen nineties. If you're not familiar with
the song Rooster, It's a song about a soldier in
the Vietnam War, and it is written by one of
(03:42):
the members of the band by the name of Jerry Cantrell.
It's a very loud, guitar and drum driven song, and
at seven am on every test day it would start,
like clockwork. I would be sitting eating my cheerios next
to my kitchen sink, reading my panic notes that I
put together the night before to do some last minutes,
and I would hear the opening guitar riff to the song,
(04:03):
followed by the lyric ain't found a way to kill
him yet, and a few seconds later the chorus, here
they come to snuff the rooster. You know he ain't
gonna die, And all the while Laine was screaming at
the top of his voice along with the song. It
was obviously his pretest ritual, and we all have those.
I always liked to wear a particular shirt, but for me,
(04:23):
his was really annoying. Before that time, I thought Allison
Chains were a decent band, But after this sonic torture
that I endured during this time period, I've never been
able to listen to them again. It was incredibly frustrating
because he was so noisy and loud and irritating, often
at weird and bizarre times. I just started avoiding my apartment.
(04:44):
I would try to study at school to just not
listen to him, but that really wasn't working for me
because I had a routine before he got there, and
studying at school also had its problems as well. It
wasn't always convenient. I didn't have food there and napping
in the study cubicles. This wasn't as comfortable. I had
to do something so I could get back to my routine.
I decided I would try talking to him about the noise.
(05:07):
I tried several times, and his response always was a
pleasant f off ah, yes, f off, a truly educated response.
I complained to the apartment manager, Polly, but there was
only so much she could do and she wasn't always there. Finally,
I took matters into my own hands. I know this
is the point in a true crime story where someone
(05:29):
ends up dead, dismembered, and disposed of in a refrigerator,
but instead of that option, I went with option B,
and that was I initially pounded on the ceiling with
the handle of my broom. This was ineffective because it
was often actually not loud enough for him to notice,
and when he did, he would either turn up the
noise or pound on his floor back. I even put
(05:50):
a couple of holes in my ceiling pounding so hard,
and when my dad came up to visit, he had
to help me patch them up. After the pounding was unsuccessful.
I got creative. The apartments we were living in had
the same footprint, so I pretty much knew the layout
of his I knew where his bed was, where his
television was, etc. Etc. I found his phone number in
(06:10):
the student directory, and this is, of course a time
before cell phones and caller ID. It was good old
fashioned land lines. I could track where he was in
his apartment based on his thunderous footsteps, and of course
I knew the location of his phone. It was the
same spot as mine, because all the phone jacks were
in the same place. My diabolical plan was when he
(06:32):
got really loud, I waited until he was at the
farthest point from his phone in his apartment, and I
would call and I could hear his phone ringing, his
music would turn off, or whatever activity he was participating
in would cease, and he would walk across the floor thump, thump, thump,
and when his footsteps would get to his phone, click,
(06:53):
I'd hang up. I could hear him pick up the
phone and say hello, Hello, and then hang up frustrated.
The footsteps would move away from the phone, heading back
to his noisy activity, and I would call again. His
phone would begin ringing, and he would run over to
the phone, and just before he'd reach it again, click,
I would hang up and sometimes sen in my apartment
(07:14):
and laugh a little bit. After a few times, this
would usually agitate him and cause him to leave his
apartment in frustration, and for a little while the noise
would be completely gone and I could study until he
returned to start to cycle over. There was one occasion
he even got so frustrated that he threw his phone
across his apartment, screaming about why did his phone keep ringing?
(07:34):
And why did that person keep hanging up? Success was achieved.
Were my tactics wrong? Were they a little juvenile? Yes?
Yes they were, but it was down to him or
me at that point, and I was going to win.
We kept this game up for most of the semester.
He never took his phone off the hook, which is
what I would have done if the phone kept ringing
(07:55):
and people kept hanging up, But he didn't do it
for whatever reason, and I kept calling and he would
leave longer and longer, giving me longer periods of quiet.
But the one thing is I could never stop the
rooster from arriving on Testay. I just learned to adapt
and be gone before the music started. Eventually, my dad
(08:16):
came up with a very reasonable solution. One time when
he was coming up to visit me, he brought with
him some gun range earmuffs. He told me, this will
probably take some of the edge off that noise, and
it did. I started wearing them and it was a
little easier to deal with Lane's rambunctiousness. And things continued
on for a while. But then there was a turning
(08:37):
point for Lane in school, and it had nothing to
do with me and my phone calls. It was during
the nineteen ninety three national championship game for the NC
DOUBLEA tournament in basketball, or March Madness. Kansas University was
playing the North Carolina tar Heels and the winner would
be crowned the NC DOUBLEA champion the next day, though
after the game, we were scheduled to have several very tests,
(09:01):
but the professor said if Kansas University won, the tests
would be postponed for a few days, but if they lost,
the tests would proceed as normal. All my classmates were
a buzz with Oh, if they win, we don't have
to take the test for another few days and we'll
have more time to study. Some are like, oh, forget it,
I'm going to study anyway. For me, I was really
(09:23):
hopeful that KU would win, and that night I had
the game on my television, but I didn't have the
sound on because Lane's television was so loud I could
hear the announcers through my ceiling. I was half heartily
studying and watching the game, but by halftime it wasn't
looking good. I knew that a true fan would not
have given up and would have had faith that KU
(09:44):
would have won. But this was medical school, after all,
and I couldn't fail a test. I turned off my TV,
slipped on my shooting range earmuffs, and started studying. After
about an hour or so, there was a sudden boom.
My overhead light shook and dust fell from the ceiling
onto my papers. I took my earmuffs off to hear
what was going on. I could hear Lane screaming and
(10:07):
destroying his TV and by the sounds of it his apartment.
Kansas University had lost and the tests were going to happen,
and Lane was not happy at all. The next morning,
test day, I left before the rooster began. I don't
know how he did on the tests, but I know
after that he started to drink and yell more and more,
(10:27):
and there were often loud, angry arguments with his stripper friends.
And that phone, that phone just wouldn't stop effing ringing.
What the hell? The semester was ending and we rolled
into finals. On the day final started, I had shown
up to school to take the first of several tests
of that day, and I heard some people talking that
(10:51):
Lane had been pepper sprayed the night before the tests
by one of his girlfriends from the strip club. He
had run out of his apartment and stuck his face
in the bird bath by the pool at the apartment complex.
And when I heard that, it explained the screaming that
it had woken me up at three am that morning.
Eventually we finished finals, I packed up and I went
(11:11):
home for my short summer break. I kept my apartment
over the summer, because my break wasn't very long. And
when I came back, my neighbor across the way was
again still there, still quiet, still non existent, but Lane
was suddenly incredibly quiet. Did something happen over the summer?
Did he change his ways? I went to class that
(11:33):
first week and I didn't see him around, and I
asked one of the other medical students that knew everybody's business,
because there's always one of those in every class, what
happened to Lane? And they said, well, no one really knows.
He just never came back. Later that week, I saw
my apartment manager and I asked her, Hey, what happened
to the guy who lived above me? And she said
(11:54):
that she didn't know. He just never came back. They
couldn't find him. They called the list of phone numbers,
no one ann and when his lease ran out, they
entered into his apartment and it appeared he just picked
up all of his stuff and left. And there was
trash everywhere and damage to the apartment, and there was
a phone. The base had been smashed pieces, and the
receiver was broken in half, and the parts were all
(12:17):
over the place. When I heard this, I smiled, and
I thought to myself victory. The apartment manager went on
and said he won't be getting his deposit back if
he ever shows up again. I did find out that
Lane's grades had been on the decline most of the semester,
and he actually never showed up for the second half
of finals. I guess the mixture of medical school and
(12:40):
strippers was just a recipe for disaster. I never heard
of him again, and I don't know what happened to him.
He just disappeared. One thing is, though, every time I
hear the opening to Rooster by Alison Chains, I changed
the channel and I think of him, and it reminds
me of how irritating it was to live under him
(13:00):
that time period. Wow Wow. After I finished medical school,
I moved to Memphis, Tennessee for residency. I had nice
neighbors there for the entire time, and then we moved
from Tennessee to Illinois, specifically the western suburbs of Chicago,
and there we had wonderful neighbors. And we moved from
(13:22):
there to Texas, and my new neighbor in Texas was
my most unpleasant neighbor of all. At my new home
in Texas, the backyard opened up into a field. The
one side of the house face a roadway with the
neighbor across the street, and the other side faced an
empty lot. I really only had the one neighbor on
(13:43):
one side, and on the day I moved in, I
was talking to the builder when my new neighbor walked up.
He was kind of a short, elderly man with gray
white hair. He was wearing a white T shirt, suspenders,
and blue jeans. The builder said, hey, Doc, this is
your new neighbor. And the old man turned to me
and he said, so, I hear tell you're a doctor.
(14:04):
Well they call me Doc. And I said to him, well,
nice to meet you, sir. That's interesting. And they call
me Kendall. And from that moment on, that is how
our relationship was. He was unpleasant and sometimes aggressive, trying
to always tell Beth or me how to handle our
house or our yard or things like that. He would
tell us we couldn't plant trees, have a fence. He
(14:27):
was always frustrated when we wouldn't listen to him and
we didn't get his way. He would try to cite
his own obtuse version of the HOA rules, and then
if he didn't get his way, he would write up
a lengthy complaint and turn them into the HOA to
try and get us in trouble. The HOA would come
by and investigate, and they never found that we had
any real violations. One example of this is we had
(14:49):
a shed built that was one inch too close to
the property line based on the HOA rules, and he
measured this with a tape measure and filed an aggressive
complaint about our chef wanting it destroyed probably burned. The
HOA looked at it and said the one inch discrepancy
really wasn't that important. Plus the shed was on the
(15:09):
other side of our fence and really didn't affect his
property at all, and they told him he just needed
to calm down, which made him really mad. The other
thing he used to do was have loud karaoke parties
late at night. And like I said, he was an
old man. He was in his late sixties early seventies,
and he and his friends would become intoxicated and sing
(15:32):
songs by the Eagles, Bob Seeger and Cher and carry
on like they were college kids until well past midnight.
And let's just say he couldn't sing, nor could his friends.
And I again added a couple more songs to my
list of songs that they can't stand when they come
on the radio, which includes Desperado and Believe. This continued
(15:53):
on for quite a while. During this time, I had
a garden in my backyard, and one time I was
out there watering my tomatoes. It was a bright summer day.
The sun was shining and it was warm outside. There
was a dove quietly cooing on the edge of my fence.
I was focusing on the status of my plants. There
were weeds in the garden and some of the tomatoes
(16:14):
were starting to ripen. When out of the blue, there
was this pop, and the cooing dove fell dead at
my feet. Then pop, one of my tomatoes exploded. I
looked up and I could see my neighbor in his
boxers and white tshirt and bathrobe, pointing a gun at
me and taking aim. I dropped my watering can and
I ran zigzagging in the yard. I heard another pop
(16:35):
while I was running, but I don't know where that
one went. When I got in the house, I told
Beth that the neighbor was shooting at me. She called
nine one one, and the Sheriff's office responded but we
lived out in the country, so it took them probably
about twenty minutes for them to get there. During that time,
I looked outside and noticed he was gone. I went
out there and picked up the dead bird. I looked
(16:55):
at the poor dead dove. He was bleeding from his chest,
and I wanted to find out why he died. I
cleaned the feathers off the wounds and found an entrance
an exit wound consisted of a gun shot. They weren't
very big, so whatever the gun was, it didn't have
a lot of power or kinetic energy. Plus the bird
was still intact, so if it had been a high
(17:15):
velocity rifle, the bird would have exploded. When the sheriff's
officer arrived, I went out to the driveway and met
her with the dead bird in my hand. I told
her what had occurred, and then I showed her the
dead bird and began showing her the entrance and exit wounds,
and I started telling her my theory about the gun.
The officer looked at me perplexed, and she said, who
(17:36):
are you. Where did you get this bird from? Again?
And I said to her, well, actually, I'm one of
the medical examiners of this County, and this is the
bird that was shot by my neighbor on my fence,
right next to me when I was watering my tomatoes.
The sheriff's officer said, well, okay, I don't need to
see the dead bird, but you can show me where
this incident occurred. And I put the bird down and
(17:57):
we walked into the back yard where my garden was.
I was pointing out to her where I was standing
when the bird died, and she said, where was the
shooter at I turned and I pointed at the door
my neighbor had shot from. And when I did that,
I saw him standing on his deck eavesdropping on what
I was saying to the sheriff's officer. I said to her, well,
that's him right there. He's the one that shot at me.
(18:19):
And the sheriff's officer said, sir, I'd like to speak
to you. His eyes got real wide and he took
off running, and the sheriff's officer started yelling, excuse me, sir,
I need to speak to you. And he kept running
and he ran to his driveway and he got in
his golf cart and began driving away at the golf
cart's top speed, which wasn't very fast. The sheriff's officer
(18:40):
ran and got into her cruiser and chased after him
down the road, and she cut him off with the
cruiser and got out, saying, sir, I need to speak
to you. It was quite the spectacle, but I didn't
catch what happened next because I went in the house.
And when she got done with the interview of him,
she later called me and told me what the results
of her interview had found. She said that he claimed
(19:00):
to be an air force sniper, which didn't make a
lot of sense. He claimed that he knew his way
around guns, and he was using a co two charge
air rifle and shooting pellets and would never have shot
at me intentionally. But he closed with because if he
wanted to shoot me, he could have done it and
he wouldn't have missed, because you know, he was a sniper.
(19:23):
And he told her his true intentions were to just
get rid of the doves because he found their cooing
to be irritating and he didn't like birds, and the
birds needed to go. And she told him what he
had done constituted a reckless act and he could be
charged with reckless endangerment, and she asked me what I
wanted to do and if I wanted to pursue charges,
(19:46):
and I told her I didn't want to pursue charges
as long as he stopped with the shooting of his
air rifle in my general direction or towards my yard,
because at that time I had a lot of small
children who loved to play outside in the yard most
of the day, and I didn't want them to get
hurt because I knew that air rifles were dangerous and
just one well placed pellet or bebie could easily enter
(20:08):
your body and kill you. Because I had had cases
like that, we didn't press charges. He stopped shooting his
air rifle in my general direction, and we continued on
with our armed truce. He'd occasionally called the HOA and
complained about us, and it went on and on like
that for a few more years, just like with Lane, though,
(20:29):
a turning point came. It was in late March and
I was set to go back to testify in Chicago
on a case. The case was yet another gangland shooting,
lots of bullets, lots of wounds, and one very dead
gang member, and I had to fly back on a Sunday.
Bethel drove me to the airport, and I flew out
(20:49):
that afternoon and was in Chicago by that evening. The
next morning, I got up and took a cab to
the courthouse, and when I got there, I had some
time to kill, so I called Beth to see how
she was doing. When she answered, she told me something
weird had occurred. When she was taking the kids to
school that morning. The neighbor was standing at the end
(21:13):
of our driveway. She was wearing a rumpled overcoat and
her house slippers. Her hair was crazy, and she had
this wild look on her face. She was shaking her
fist and screaming and waving a white towel that was
stained red aggressively back and forth. Beth was attempting to
back out of the driveway with our kids in the van,
(21:34):
and one of our children said to her, why is
the neighbor acting so weird? And Beth said, I don't know,
but we're just going to get around her, and she
maneuvered the van and got around her and drove away
while the neighbor continued to scream and shake her fist
at the car. Beth told me all of this, and
I said to her, that's incredibly odd. That doesn't even
(21:56):
make sense. I wonder what they're up to now. I
will be getting a call from the HOA sometime this week.
Beth agreed, but she said this time it was really different,
and it was exceptionally odd. I went on to testify
in the case later that day, and after I got done,
I was driven to the airport, bordered a plane of
(22:16):
O'Hare and flew home. The next morning, I got up
and went to work like I always did. Arrived around
six am and I cut through the death investigator's office
on my way to my office. One of the death
investigators saw me and she said, Hey, we think we
got your neighbor in here late Sunday night. And I
said to her, are you kidding me? And she pulled
(22:38):
up the file and the pictures on her computer and
showed them to me, and sure enough, it was my
neighbor wearing the same white tshirt, same suspenders, and blue
denim pants that he was wearing when I met him
for that first time all those years ago. The only
difference was he was laying there dead on an autopsy table.
I asked her what had happened to him, and she
(22:59):
told me the case was pending. He had evidently gotten
in his wife's car, driven to the end of the street,
pulled up in the driveway of another person's house, which
was for sale, got out of his car, walked along
the driveway into the yard, and that's where he was
found dead with two separate gunshot wounds of entrance to
his head. The gun was at the scene, which made
(23:21):
it seem like it was a suicide, but there were
other circumstances that called the manner of death into question,
and these were when the sheriffs arrived at the scene.
His wife was hysterical and screaming, and she had the
hoa president and her husband sitting in her house with her.
She was carrying on and on, moaning and incredibly enraged,
crying and yelling, and she kept telling the sheriff's officers
(23:43):
that responded she didn't want that son of a bitch
doctor touching her husband. And she kept saying this over
and over. The sheriff's officers were like, what doctor are
you talking about? And she pointed out her window towards
my house, and one of the sheriffs officers looked over
and noticed sitting in my driveway my car. At that time.
(24:06):
I had a very distinctive blue Mustang that I drove
all the time, and all the officers knew about it.
I didn't take it to the airport when I left
for obvious reasons. And when the sheriff's officers saw that car,
they knew who that son of a bitch doctor was.
It was me. And then they both thought, wait, this
is the crazy neighbor. The doctor Crowns is always talking
(24:28):
about the one who shot at him and the one
who does all those other crazy things. And while they
were taking their notes, the neighbor's wife alleged that I
had something to do with his death, and that created
the issue with the manner of death. They had to
rule out a homicide. A suicide in which two gunshot
wounds of the head occur is unusual. In the US,
(24:51):
twenty thousand people die each year from gunshot wounds to
the head. There's a five percent survival with these, and
three percent of those people have a good call of life.
There are a few factors that come into play that
determine if a person can have purposeful movement after they're
shot in the head. A low speed, small bullet will
fracture the skull but lose most of its energy doing that,
(25:14):
and the resultant damage is just along the wound track.
A high velocity bullet, on the other hand, can cause
a massive wound track with a pressure wave and results
in significant damage and it almost always kills the individual.
It's really truly about the velocity, so as always speed kills. Also,
(25:35):
if you just damage one side of your brain, the
other side of the brain can be still functioning and
take over and you'll survive at least for a little while,
depending on how much hemorrhage there is, so it can
occur you can shoot yourself more than once in the
head and still be able to move around and pull
the trigger again, or even survive. When I saw my
(25:57):
boss later that morning, questioned me about my whereabouts on
Sunday and Monday, and I told them, well, you know
where I was at. I was in Chicago testifying. And
my boss said it would be in my best interests
to have an alibi stating where I was at on
Sunday and Monday. And I said, well, wait a second,
am I being blamed for something? And my boss emphasized
(26:21):
saying it would just be best if I could prove
my whereabouts on that Sunday evening, due to the allegations
that were being made, I called the lawyers in Chicago
and I told them my situation and how I needed
a certified letter from them verifying that I had been
there on Sunday and Monday. And the lawyer said to me, well,
that's highly unusual, doctor, what kind of place are you
(26:42):
working in. But if that's what you need, well we
can provide you with one, and they did. They sent
me a letter by overnight mail, and it was fancy.
It was unofficial Cook County stationery. And I took that
letter and I gave it to my boss, who showed
it to the sheriff's officers that were investigating the death.
And I was able to prove I wasn't there when
my neighbor killed himself, And eventually the investigation showed that
(27:05):
he had shot himself twice. I mean, it was two
contact range wounds, and the gun was at the scene
with two fired casings still in the gun. And it
turned out he had been making suicidal gestures to his wife,
to the point that his wife had taken away all
of his guns, but she had kept hers because it
is Texas, and the gun he used was one of hers,
(27:28):
and it was a small caliber, low velocity firearm, so
it made sense why he was able to shoot himself twice.
The cause of deaths was made gun shot wounds of
the head, manner of death's suicide case closed. And what
was on that towel you ask, Well, she had walked
down to the scene and was noticed by the people
(27:48):
who lived in the house to be cleaning up the
area where her husband had shot himself, So what was
on that towel was probably some of his remains. About
a year after the incident, we moved away and new
neighbors came in and things returned to normal, and eventually
we moved away as well, and now we have new
neighbors too, and that whole incident has just become a distant,
(28:14):
bizarre memory. And that brings us to the end of
the episode. I hope you learned something like the call
is coming from inside the house sort of. I hope
you were entertained until the next time.
Once again, this episode has discussions of deaths of individuals.
If this sort of thing upsets you, this is again
not the episode for you. Welcome to Mayhem the More
with your host, Doctor Kidder Crowns. Today's episode Neighbors neighbors.
(00:27):
Unless you own a private island, you can't escape them.
Some are good, some are bad, and some you never know.
But the really bad ones are the ones you really remember. Today,
I'm going to talk about a couple of problematic neighbors
that I have had over the years. When I was
in medical school, I lived in an apartment complex on
(00:47):
Rainbow Boulevard in Kansas City, Kansas. It was near some
train tracks in a highway. The apartments were small, reasonably priced,
and were a few blocks away from the school, and
most of the people who lived there were actually medical students.
I walked from these apartments every day to go to class,
and they were incredibly convenient. I can still remember my
(01:10):
apartment number. It was five fourteen. It was in the
back corner of one section. I shared a wall with
one person, and I had a neighbor across from me
and one above me. Behind my apartment was a tree
covered hill that blocked out the sun, so that wasn't
really a neighbor in West you count the feral cats
and raccoons. In the years that I lived there, my
(01:31):
neighbor across from me was nonexistent. I saw her only once.
She too was a medical student, but a little further
along than me. She was a great neighbor, never there,
kept to herself when she was there, she was always quiet.
During my first semester of school, my upstairs neighbor was
also very quiet. He was in his final year of
(01:53):
school and he was never there as well, and I
never heard him except maybe once or twice. And because
my apartment and was so quiet, I studied there a lot.
It was convenient. I could get snacks, I could nap
and occasionally watch TV, and I developed quite a routine.
I went home for Christmas that year, and when I returned,
(02:14):
I had a new upstairs neighbor. I still remember his name,
but because he isn't dead, maybe I'll refer to him
as Lane. Laine and I started medical school together. My
class size was one hundred and seventy five students, which
is a big group of people, and he were always busy,
and due to that I knew who he was, but
(02:36):
I didn't know him, and his last name was also
further down the alphabet than mine, and that meant we
had no interaction in labs or clinical rotations. Laine wasn't
always in his apartment, but when he was, Laine liked
to get drunk, and when he was drunk, he liked
to get loud, and he liked to do this at
all hours of the day. I remember one time at
(02:59):
two am, he sat on his back porch blowing a
Marty Gras horn for over an hour. Laine also liked
to entertain strippers from a local strip club called Bazookahs
at his apartment. Sometimes he would be having extracurricular activities
with them late at night, and it would also get
awful loud. But the most annoying thing that he did
was on the morning of our examinations, and that activity
(03:22):
was he would play the song Rooster by Alison Chains.
If you're not familiar with Alison Chains, they are a
heavy metal band that formed in Seattle in nineteen eighty
seven and they're always mixed in with the grunge musical
scene of the nineteen nineties. If you're not familiar with
the song Rooster, It's a song about a soldier in
the Vietnam War, and it is written by one of
(03:42):
the members of the band by the name of Jerry Cantrell.
It's a very loud, guitar and drum driven song, and
at seven am on every test day it would start,
like clockwork. I would be sitting eating my cheerios next
to my kitchen sink, reading my panic notes that I
put together the night before to do some last minutes,
and I would hear the opening guitar riff to the song,
(04:03):
followed by the lyric ain't found a way to kill
him yet, and a few seconds later the chorus, here
they come to snuff the rooster. You know he ain't
gonna die, And all the while Laine was screaming at
the top of his voice along with the song. It
was obviously his pretest ritual, and we all have those.
I always liked to wear a particular shirt, but for me,
(04:23):
his was really annoying. Before that time, I thought Allison
Chains were a decent band, But after this sonic torture
that I endured during this time period, I've never been
able to listen to them again. It was incredibly frustrating
because he was so noisy and loud and irritating, often
at weird and bizarre times. I just started avoiding my apartment.
(04:44):
I would try to study at school to just not
listen to him, but that really wasn't working for me
because I had a routine before he got there, and
studying at school also had its problems as well. It
wasn't always convenient. I didn't have food there and napping
in the study cubicles. This wasn't as comfortable. I had
to do something so I could get back to my routine.
I decided I would try talking to him about the noise.
(05:07):
I tried several times, and his response always was a
pleasant f off ah, yes, f off, a truly educated response.
I complained to the apartment manager, Polly, but there was
only so much she could do and she wasn't always there. Finally,
I took matters into my own hands. I know this
is the point in a true crime story where someone
(05:29):
ends up dead, dismembered, and disposed of in a refrigerator,
but instead of that option, I went with option B,
and that was I initially pounded on the ceiling with
the handle of my broom. This was ineffective because it
was often actually not loud enough for him to notice,
and when he did, he would either turn up the
noise or pound on his floor back. I even put
(05:50):
a couple of holes in my ceiling pounding so hard,
and when my dad came up to visit, he had
to help me patch them up. After the pounding was unsuccessful.
I got creative. The apartments we were living in had
the same footprint, so I pretty much knew the layout
of his I knew where his bed was, where his
television was, etc. Etc. I found his phone number in
(06:10):
the student directory, and this is, of course a time
before cell phones and caller ID. It was good old
fashioned land lines. I could track where he was in
his apartment based on his thunderous footsteps, and of course
I knew the location of his phone. It was the
same spot as mine, because all the phone jacks were
in the same place. My diabolical plan was when he
(06:32):
got really loud, I waited until he was at the
farthest point from his phone in his apartment, and I
would call and I could hear his phone ringing, his
music would turn off, or whatever activity he was participating
in would cease, and he would walk across the floor thump, thump, thump,
and when his footsteps would get to his phone, click,
(06:53):
I'd hang up. I could hear him pick up the
phone and say hello, Hello, and then hang up frustrated.
The footsteps would move away from the phone, heading back
to his noisy activity, and I would call again. His
phone would begin ringing, and he would run over to
the phone, and just before he'd reach it again, click,
I would hang up and sometimes sen in my apartment
(07:14):
and laugh a little bit. After a few times, this
would usually agitate him and cause him to leave his
apartment in frustration, and for a little while the noise
would be completely gone and I could study until he
returned to start to cycle over. There was one occasion
he even got so frustrated that he threw his phone
across his apartment, screaming about why did his phone keep ringing?
(07:34):
And why did that person keep hanging up? Success was achieved.
Were my tactics wrong? Were they a little juvenile? Yes?
Yes they were, but it was down to him or
me at that point, and I was going to win.
We kept this game up for most of the semester.
He never took his phone off the hook, which is
what I would have done if the phone kept ringing
(07:55):
and people kept hanging up, But he didn't do it
for whatever reason, and I kept calling and he would
leave longer and longer, giving me longer periods of quiet.
But the one thing is I could never stop the
rooster from arriving on Testay. I just learned to adapt
and be gone before the music started. Eventually, my dad
(08:16):
came up with a very reasonable solution. One time when
he was coming up to visit me, he brought with
him some gun range earmuffs. He told me, this will
probably take some of the edge off that noise, and
it did. I started wearing them and it was a
little easier to deal with Lane's rambunctiousness. And things continued
on for a while. But then there was a turning
(08:37):
point for Lane in school, and it had nothing to
do with me and my phone calls. It was during
the nineteen ninety three national championship game for the NC
DOUBLEA tournament in basketball, or March Madness. Kansas University was
playing the North Carolina tar Heels and the winner would
be crowned the NC DOUBLEA champion the next day, though
after the game, we were scheduled to have several very tests,
(09:01):
but the professor said if Kansas University won, the tests
would be postponed for a few days, but if they lost,
the tests would proceed as normal. All my classmates were
a buzz with Oh, if they win, we don't have
to take the test for another few days and we'll
have more time to study. Some are like, oh, forget it,
I'm going to study anyway. For me, I was really
(09:23):
hopeful that KU would win, and that night I had
the game on my television, but I didn't have the
sound on because Lane's television was so loud I could
hear the announcers through my ceiling. I was half heartily
studying and watching the game, but by halftime it wasn't
looking good. I knew that a true fan would not
have given up and would have had faith that KU
(09:44):
would have won. But this was medical school, after all,
and I couldn't fail a test. I turned off my TV,
slipped on my shooting range earmuffs, and started studying. After
about an hour or so, there was a sudden boom.
My overhead light shook and dust fell from the ceiling
onto my papers. I took my earmuffs off to hear
what was going on. I could hear Lane screaming and
(10:07):
destroying his TV and by the sounds of it his apartment.
Kansas University had lost and the tests were going to happen,
and Lane was not happy at all. The next morning,
test day, I left before the rooster began. I don't
know how he did on the tests, but I know
after that he started to drink and yell more and more,
(10:27):
and there were often loud, angry arguments with his stripper friends.
And that phone, that phone just wouldn't stop effing ringing.
What the hell? The semester was ending and we rolled
into finals. On the day final started, I had shown
up to school to take the first of several tests
of that day, and I heard some people talking that
(10:51):
Lane had been pepper sprayed the night before the tests
by one of his girlfriends from the strip club. He
had run out of his apartment and stuck his face
in the bird bath by the pool at the apartment complex.
And when I heard that, it explained the screaming that
it had woken me up at three am that morning.
Eventually we finished finals, I packed up and I went
(11:11):
home for my short summer break. I kept my apartment
over the summer, because my break wasn't very long. And
when I came back, my neighbor across the way was
again still there, still quiet, still non existent, but Lane
was suddenly incredibly quiet. Did something happen over the summer?
Did he change his ways? I went to class that
(11:33):
first week and I didn't see him around, and I
asked one of the other medical students that knew everybody's business,
because there's always one of those in every class, what
happened to Lane? And they said, well, no one really knows.
He just never came back. Later that week, I saw
my apartment manager and I asked her, Hey, what happened
to the guy who lived above me? And she said
(11:54):
that she didn't know. He just never came back. They
couldn't find him. They called the list of phone numbers,
no one ann and when his lease ran out, they
entered into his apartment and it appeared he just picked
up all of his stuff and left. And there was
trash everywhere and damage to the apartment, and there was
a phone. The base had been smashed pieces, and the
receiver was broken in half, and the parts were all
(12:17):
over the place. When I heard this, I smiled, and
I thought to myself victory. The apartment manager went on
and said he won't be getting his deposit back if
he ever shows up again. I did find out that
Lane's grades had been on the decline most of the semester,
and he actually never showed up for the second half
of finals. I guess the mixture of medical school and
(12:40):
strippers was just a recipe for disaster. I never heard
of him again, and I don't know what happened to him.
He just disappeared. One thing is, though, every time I
hear the opening to Rooster by Alison Chains, I changed
the channel and I think of him, and it reminds
me of how irritating it was to live under him
(13:00):
that time period. Wow Wow. After I finished medical school,
I moved to Memphis, Tennessee for residency. I had nice
neighbors there for the entire time, and then we moved
from Tennessee to Illinois, specifically the western suburbs of Chicago,
and there we had wonderful neighbors. And we moved from
(13:22):
there to Texas, and my new neighbor in Texas was
my most unpleasant neighbor of all. At my new home
in Texas, the backyard opened up into a field. The
one side of the house face a roadway with the
neighbor across the street, and the other side faced an
empty lot. I really only had the one neighbor on
(13:43):
one side, and on the day I moved in, I
was talking to the builder when my new neighbor walked up.
He was kind of a short, elderly man with gray
white hair. He was wearing a white T shirt, suspenders,
and blue jeans. The builder said, hey, Doc, this is
your new neighbor. And the old man turned to me
and he said, so, I hear tell you're a doctor.
(14:04):
Well they call me Doc. And I said to him, well,
nice to meet you, sir. That's interesting. And they call
me Kendall. And from that moment on, that is how
our relationship was. He was unpleasant and sometimes aggressive, trying
to always tell Beth or me how to handle our
house or our yard or things like that. He would
tell us we couldn't plant trees, have a fence. He
(14:27):
was always frustrated when we wouldn't listen to him and
we didn't get his way. He would try to cite
his own obtuse version of the HOA rules, and then
if he didn't get his way, he would write up
a lengthy complaint and turn them into the HOA to
try and get us in trouble. The HOA would come
by and investigate, and they never found that we had
any real violations. One example of this is we had
(14:49):
a shed built that was one inch too close to
the property line based on the HOA rules, and he
measured this with a tape measure and filed an aggressive
complaint about our chef wanting it destroyed probably burned. The
HOA looked at it and said the one inch discrepancy
really wasn't that important. Plus the shed was on the
(15:09):
other side of our fence and really didn't affect his
property at all, and they told him he just needed
to calm down, which made him really mad. The other
thing he used to do was have loud karaoke parties
late at night. And like I said, he was an
old man. He was in his late sixties early seventies,
and he and his friends would become intoxicated and sing
(15:32):
songs by the Eagles, Bob Seeger and Cher and carry
on like they were college kids until well past midnight.
And let's just say he couldn't sing, nor could his friends.
And I again added a couple more songs to my
list of songs that they can't stand when they come
on the radio, which includes Desperado and Believe. This continued
(15:53):
on for quite a while. During this time, I had
a garden in my backyard, and one time I was
out there watering my tomatoes. It was a bright summer day.
The sun was shining and it was warm outside. There
was a dove quietly cooing on the edge of my fence.
I was focusing on the status of my plants. There
were weeds in the garden and some of the tomatoes
(16:14):
were starting to ripen. When out of the blue, there
was this pop, and the cooing dove fell dead at
my feet. Then pop, one of my tomatoes exploded. I
looked up and I could see my neighbor in his
boxers and white tshirt and bathrobe, pointing a gun at
me and taking aim. I dropped my watering can and
I ran zigzagging in the yard. I heard another pop
(16:35):
while I was running, but I don't know where that
one went. When I got in the house, I told
Beth that the neighbor was shooting at me. She called
nine one one, and the Sheriff's office responded but we
lived out in the country, so it took them probably
about twenty minutes for them to get there. During that time,
I looked outside and noticed he was gone. I went
out there and picked up the dead bird. I looked
(16:55):
at the poor dead dove. He was bleeding from his chest,
and I wanted to find out why he died. I
cleaned the feathers off the wounds and found an entrance
an exit wound consisted of a gun shot. They weren't
very big, so whatever the gun was, it didn't have
a lot of power or kinetic energy. Plus the bird
was still intact, so if it had been a high
(17:15):
velocity rifle, the bird would have exploded. When the sheriff's
officer arrived, I went out to the driveway and met
her with the dead bird in my hand. I told
her what had occurred, and then I showed her the
dead bird and began showing her the entrance and exit wounds,
and I started telling her my theory about the gun.
The officer looked at me perplexed, and she said, who
(17:36):
are you. Where did you get this bird from? Again?
And I said to her, well, actually, I'm one of
the medical examiners of this County, and this is the
bird that was shot by my neighbor on my fence,
right next to me when I was watering my tomatoes.
The sheriff's officer said, well, okay, I don't need to
see the dead bird, but you can show me where
this incident occurred. And I put the bird down and
(17:57):
we walked into the back yard where my garden was.
I was pointing out to her where I was standing
when the bird died, and she said, where was the
shooter at I turned and I pointed at the door
my neighbor had shot from. And when I did that,
I saw him standing on his deck eavesdropping on what
I was saying to the sheriff's officer. I said to her, well,
that's him right there. He's the one that shot at me.
(18:19):
And the sheriff's officer said, sir, I'd like to speak
to you. His eyes got real wide and he took
off running, and the sheriff's officer started yelling, excuse me, sir,
I need to speak to you. And he kept running
and he ran to his driveway and he got in
his golf cart and began driving away at the golf
cart's top speed, which wasn't very fast. The sheriff's officer
(18:40):
ran and got into her cruiser and chased after him
down the road, and she cut him off with the
cruiser and got out, saying, sir, I need to speak
to you. It was quite the spectacle, but I didn't
catch what happened next because I went in the house.
And when she got done with the interview of him,
she later called me and told me what the results
of her interview had found. She said that he claimed
(19:00):
to be an air force sniper, which didn't make a
lot of sense. He claimed that he knew his way
around guns, and he was using a co two charge
air rifle and shooting pellets and would never have shot
at me intentionally. But he closed with because if he
wanted to shoot me, he could have done it and
he wouldn't have missed, because you know, he was a sniper.
(19:23):
And he told her his true intentions were to just
get rid of the doves because he found their cooing
to be irritating and he didn't like birds, and the
birds needed to go. And she told him what he
had done constituted a reckless act and he could be
charged with reckless endangerment, and she asked me what I
wanted to do and if I wanted to pursue charges,
(19:46):
and I told her I didn't want to pursue charges
as long as he stopped with the shooting of his
air rifle in my general direction or towards my yard,
because at that time I had a lot of small
children who loved to play outside in the yard most
of the day, and I didn't want them to get
hurt because I knew that air rifles were dangerous and
just one well placed pellet or bebie could easily enter
(20:08):
your body and kill you. Because I had had cases
like that, we didn't press charges. He stopped shooting his
air rifle in my general direction, and we continued on
with our armed truce. He'd occasionally called the HOA and
complained about us, and it went on and on like
that for a few more years, just like with Lane, though,
(20:29):
a turning point came. It was in late March and
I was set to go back to testify in Chicago
on a case. The case was yet another gangland shooting,
lots of bullets, lots of wounds, and one very dead
gang member, and I had to fly back on a Sunday.
Bethel drove me to the airport, and I flew out
(20:49):
that afternoon and was in Chicago by that evening. The
next morning, I got up and took a cab to
the courthouse, and when I got there, I had some
time to kill, so I called Beth to see how
she was doing. When she answered, she told me something
weird had occurred. When she was taking the kids to
school that morning. The neighbor was standing at the end
(21:13):
of our driveway. She was wearing a rumpled overcoat and
her house slippers. Her hair was crazy, and she had
this wild look on her face. She was shaking her
fist and screaming and waving a white towel that was
stained red aggressively back and forth. Beth was attempting to
back out of the driveway with our kids in the van,
(21:34):
and one of our children said to her, why is
the neighbor acting so weird? And Beth said, I don't know,
but we're just going to get around her, and she
maneuvered the van and got around her and drove away
while the neighbor continued to scream and shake her fist
at the car. Beth told me all of this, and
I said to her, that's incredibly odd. That doesn't even
(21:56):
make sense. I wonder what they're up to now. I
will be getting a call from the HOA sometime this week.
Beth agreed, but she said this time it was really different,
and it was exceptionally odd. I went on to testify
in the case later that day, and after I got done,
I was driven to the airport, bordered a plane of
(22:16):
O'Hare and flew home. The next morning, I got up
and went to work like I always did. Arrived around
six am and I cut through the death investigator's office
on my way to my office. One of the death
investigators saw me and she said, Hey, we think we
got your neighbor in here late Sunday night. And I
said to her, are you kidding me? And she pulled
(22:38):
up the file and the pictures on her computer and
showed them to me, and sure enough, it was my
neighbor wearing the same white tshirt, same suspenders, and blue
denim pants that he was wearing when I met him
for that first time all those years ago. The only
difference was he was laying there dead on an autopsy table.
I asked her what had happened to him, and she
(22:59):
told me the case was pending. He had evidently gotten
in his wife's car, driven to the end of the street,
pulled up in the driveway of another person's house, which
was for sale, got out of his car, walked along
the driveway into the yard, and that's where he was
found dead with two separate gunshot wounds of entrance to
his head. The gun was at the scene, which made
(23:21):
it seem like it was a suicide, but there were
other circumstances that called the manner of death into question,
and these were when the sheriffs arrived at the scene.
His wife was hysterical and screaming, and she had the
hoa president and her husband sitting in her house with her.
She was carrying on and on, moaning and incredibly enraged,
crying and yelling, and she kept telling the sheriff's officers
(23:43):
that responded she didn't want that son of a bitch
doctor touching her husband. And she kept saying this over
and over. The sheriff's officers were like, what doctor are
you talking about? And she pointed out her window towards
my house, and one of the sheriffs officers looked over
and noticed sitting in my driveway my car. At that time.
(24:06):
I had a very distinctive blue Mustang that I drove
all the time, and all the officers knew about it.
I didn't take it to the airport when I left
for obvious reasons. And when the sheriff's officers saw that car,
they knew who that son of a bitch doctor was.
It was me. And then they both thought, wait, this
is the crazy neighbor. The doctor Crowns is always talking
(24:28):
about the one who shot at him and the one
who does all those other crazy things. And while they
were taking their notes, the neighbor's wife alleged that I
had something to do with his death, and that created
the issue with the manner of death. They had to
rule out a homicide. A suicide in which two gunshot
wounds of the head occur is unusual. In the US,
(24:51):
twenty thousand people die each year from gunshot wounds to
the head. There's a five percent survival with these, and
three percent of those people have a good call of life.
There are a few factors that come into play that
determine if a person can have purposeful movement after they're
shot in the head. A low speed, small bullet will
fracture the skull but lose most of its energy doing that,
(25:14):
and the resultant damage is just along the wound track.
A high velocity bullet, on the other hand, can cause
a massive wound track with a pressure wave and results
in significant damage and it almost always kills the individual.
It's really truly about the velocity, so as always speed kills. Also,
(25:35):
if you just damage one side of your brain, the
other side of the brain can be still functioning and
take over and you'll survive at least for a little while,
depending on how much hemorrhage there is, so it can
occur you can shoot yourself more than once in the
head and still be able to move around and pull
the trigger again, or even survive. When I saw my
(25:57):
boss later that morning, questioned me about my whereabouts on
Sunday and Monday, and I told them, well, you know
where I was at. I was in Chicago testifying. And
my boss said it would be in my best interests
to have an alibi stating where I was at on
Sunday and Monday. And I said, well, wait a second,
am I being blamed for something? And my boss emphasized
(26:21):
saying it would just be best if I could prove
my whereabouts on that Sunday evening, due to the allegations
that were being made, I called the lawyers in Chicago
and I told them my situation and how I needed
a certified letter from them verifying that I had been
there on Sunday and Monday. And the lawyer said to me, well,
that's highly unusual, doctor, what kind of place are you
(26:42):
working in. But if that's what you need, well we
can provide you with one, and they did. They sent
me a letter by overnight mail, and it was fancy.
It was unofficial Cook County stationery. And I took that
letter and I gave it to my boss, who showed
it to the sheriff's officers that were investigating the death.
And I was able to prove I wasn't there when
my neighbor killed himself, And eventually the investigation showed that
(27:05):
he had shot himself twice. I mean, it was two
contact range wounds, and the gun was at the scene
with two fired casings still in the gun. And it
turned out he had been making suicidal gestures to his wife,
to the point that his wife had taken away all
of his guns, but she had kept hers because it
is Texas, and the gun he used was one of hers,
(27:28):
and it was a small caliber, low velocity firearm, so
it made sense why he was able to shoot himself twice.
The cause of deaths was made gun shot wounds of
the head, manner of death's suicide case closed. And what
was on that towel you ask, Well, she had walked
down to the scene and was noticed by the people
(27:48):
who lived in the house to be cleaning up the
area where her husband had shot himself, So what was
on that towel was probably some of his remains. About
a year after the incident, we moved away and new
neighbors came in and things returned to normal, and eventually
we moved away as well, and now we have new
neighbors too, and that whole incident has just become a distant,
(28:14):
bizarre memory. And that brings us to the end of
the episode. I hope you learned something like the call
is coming from inside the house sort of. I hope
you were entertained until the next time.
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